#not because of that but just because he sucks at responding

[sillywizardinthewoods]

I am the token straight man, I know what he thinks this means. I suck at this sort of thing, which I think makes me a subject matter expert because this guy also clearly sucks at this sort of thing.

Disclaimer: I know the correct thing to do when seeing a young woman alone at a restaurant is to ‘mind my own gosh darn business’, not that my social anxiety would let me try this anyway. I also know that what he refers to as ���traps’ are in fact reasonable reactions to creeps. A good rule of thumb is that pickup artists are wrong about everything and any video evidence to the contrary is staged.

Crucially, there’s a picture of a woman attached to the original tweet he’s responding to that has been cropped out. I reckon this makes a bit more sense if we could see the picture, but I’m making some inferences based on what he wrote.

Complimenting her manicure is a very safe compliment in that it’s hard to take the wrong way or be offended over, and asking about the cross earrings is just a setup for the religious pickup line, and a possible conversation starter if this guy is anti-smalltalk. Saying he used to believe in angels but the devil is a fallen angel is him saying he’s just gotten out of a rough relationship (his ex being the angel who fell and caused him to stop believing). This very specific fantasy woman wearing cross earrings with a perfect manicure is also drinking apple juice*. Asking if angels drink apple juice is therefore a way to imply he’s hoping she could be the angel who restores his faith, but is prepared to accept no for an answer.

*Possibly beer or cider, I don’t have the image but I’m making an educated guess. It’s more likely beer or cider (can’t speak for everyone but if I’m in a restaurant and have the choice between cider or apple juice, I’m picking cider every time), but I’m guessing our wannabe Casanova has Opinions on what is appropriate for women to drink, saw a yellowish liquid in a glass, and made an assumption.

The two traps are an attempt at a compliment that makes someone uncomfortable and comes across as a catcall, which he avoids by complimenting her manicure, and by coming on too strong by insisting that she is an angel, which he avoids by instead asking her if she’s an angel.

I’m going to finish my critique by pointing out that while this whole opener is a red flag, if I’m right about this then he actually mentioned his toxic ex girlfriend in the second sentence he spoke to this poor imaginary woman, which is honestly a worse red flag IMO. Rookie mistake tbh.

This has got to be the most incomprehensible thing I’ve ever read this is a reply to a dumbass pick up artist twitter thread but it sounds like a riddle that you’d be given 3 chances to solve before getting thrown in the gallows

[neferaskingdom]

Not So Bad After All | CL16

NEFERASKINGDOM

Summary: Valentine’s Day sucks, the bathroom line is too long, and Charles just wants to go home. Until a ridiculous scheme, a fake proposal, and the best tiramisu of his life change everything.

Previous | Series Masterlist | Next

Charles Leclerc did not want to be here.

Valentine’s Day was already insufferable, but being dragged to a bar by his well-meaning (and currently very drunk) friends was making it so much worse. His brothers were off on their respective romantic dates, and instead of sulking in peace at home, he was here—stuck in a crowded bar, dodging heart-shaped balloons and being subjected to overly loud love songs blaring from the speakers.

And now, to top it all off, he was standing in an absurdly long line for the bathroom.

“Ridiculous,” he muttered under his breath, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as the line refused to move.

“Tell me about it,” a voice said beside him.

Charles turned his head to find a woman standing next to him, arms crossed, scowling at the line ahead. She looked equally unimpressed with the night’s events.

He raised an eyebrow. “Bad night?”

She huffed, tilting her head towards the couple making out aggressively in the corner. “I’ve seen horror movies less disturbing than that.”

Charles snorted, a genuine smile tugging at his lips. “Agreed.”

They lapsed into silence, both staring ahead at the unmoving line. A few seconds passed before she spoke again. “You don’t look like you’re having fun.”

He exhaled, rubbing his face. “That’s because I’m not.”

She smirked. “Then why are you here?”

Charles sighed, hands in his pockets. “My friends thought I needed ‘cheering up’ because my brothers are both in relationships, and I am not.”

She nodded sympathetically. “Same. Except my best friend didn’t even try to lie about it. She just said, ‘You’re too single, and it’s embarrassing.’” She gestured toward the girl still making out in the corner. “That would be her.”

Charles winced. “Brutal.”

“Right? I told her I’d rather stay home and watch a move or something.”

Charles let out a laugh, genuinely amused. “I think I’d prefer that too.”

As the line inched forward at a snail’s pace, their conversation flowed effortlessly.

"Okay, explain this to me," she said, turning to face him fully. "Why do people think giving someone overpriced flowers that will die in three days is romantic?"

Charles chuckled. "Right? And the price! it's like they double it just because it’s February 14th."

She scoffed. "Exactly! And don't even get me started on the chocolates. You know they just put the same candy in a heart-shaped box and charge extra."

"The worst part is the expectation," Charles added, shaking his head. "Like, if you don’t do something extravagant, suddenly you don’t love your partner enough?"

She snapped her fingers. "Yes! If you need a specific day to prove your love, maybe your relationship isn’t as strong as you think."

Charles smirked. "So, not a fan of grand gestures, then?"

"Oh, I love grand gestures," she admitted, tilting her head. "Just not ones dictated by capitalism."

“So let me get this straight,” she said after a particularly heated rant about heart-shaped balloons. “You got dragged here against your will, your friends abandoned you, and now you’re standing in line for the bathroom ranting at a stranger?”

Charles groaned. “I am beginning to think I have been tricked.”

She shook her head in mock pity. “Tragic.”

He opened his mouth to respond when, to his horror, his stomach let out a loud growl.

She turned to him, grinning. “Oh my god.”

“…I’m hungry,” he admitted, rubbing his neck sheepishly.

She laughed. “You know what? Let’s get out of here. I know a place.”

The place she led him to was a semi-formal restaurant with dim lighting, cozy booths, and the most incredible menu Charles had ever seen. By the time their food arrived, they were already deep into conversation, swapping stories about their worst dates, cringiest romantic gestures, and Valentine’s Day traumas.

Charles took a bite of the cheesecake and immediately let out a sound that could only be described as obscene. “Mon dieu. This is the best thing I have ever eaten.”

His companion grinned. “Oh, you think that’s good? There’s something even better.”

He looked up, intrigued. “Impossible.”

She leaned forward conspiratorially. “They used to sell the most heavenly tiramisu. It was legendary. But they discontinued it.”

Charles frowned. “Then how do you know it’s better?”

She smirked. "Because I’ve had it before and fun fact it’s on the secret menu now. But it’s a whole ordeal." She leaned in slightly, lowering her voice like she was letting him in on a great secret. "The thing is, their tiramisu is legendary—like, hours of prep, delicate layers, the kind of dessert that requires actual effort. It got discontinued because the chef didn’t want to deal with the hassle anymore. But, through my very reliable sources—" she wiggled her eyebrows "—I found out they still serve it. But… only for very, very special occasions."

He raised an eyebrow. “I’m listening.”

She pulled a simple ring off her finger and slid it across the table. "They only serve it on very special occasions Charles. The chef is a real romantic."

Charles stared at her, unblinking. “You’re joking.”

She shook her head, trying to look serious despite the mischief in her eyes. “Not at all. I’ve tried everything to get a taste again, but my friends refuse to participate in my schemes.”

Charles hesitated, glancing between her and the ring. “You’re telling me I have to propose to you… for tiramisu?”

She nodded solemnly. “For the greatest tiramisu known to man.”

He exhaled, rubbing his temples. “I cannot believe I am considering this.”

She gasped. “Charles. Think of the dessert.”

He groaned dramatically before picking up the ring. “Fine. But if we’re doing this, we’re doing it right.”

Before she could react, he got down on one knee.

The restaurant quieted.

Charles took her hand, his thumb brushing over her knuckles as he looked up at her with nothing but warmth in his eyes. "Mon amour," he murmured, voice steady, heartfelt. "We've known each other since we were kids. You were always there—my partner in crime, my best friend. I can't imagine my life without you."

A few people around them sighed dreamily.

She felt a laugh bubble up, but Charles was fully committed, his gaze unwavering. "We've had our ups and downs, but through it all, it's always been you. And it always will be." He lifted the ring, giving her a small, knowing smile. "So what do you say, mon coeur? Marry me, and let’s spend the rest of our lives together."

The restaurant erupted in applause as she let out a shaky laugh, nodding. "Yes," she breathed, eyes locked onto his. "Yes, Charles, of course."

His grin was immediate, radiant, as he slipped the ring onto her finger. She let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. "You know... I think I always knew it was you. Ever since the day you carried me home after I sprained my ankle as a kid."

Charles chuckled, squeezing her hand. "You remember that?"

"Always," she said, voice warm. "And now, I guess I get to spend forever remembering this too."

The applause grew louder, a few cheers echoing through the restaurant as the chef himself emerged, grinning from ear to ear, ready to present them with their well-earned tiramisu.

As soon as they sat back down, she burst into laughter. “I cannot believe you just did that.”

He smirked. “Well, I had to commit.”

The tiramisu arrived, and the moment Charles took his first bite, he slumped back in his seat. “Merde.”

She watched, delighted. “I told you.”

Charles stretched his arms above his head as they stepped out into the cool night air, letting out a dramatic sigh. "I hate you."

She snorted, stuffing her hands into her coat pockets. "Wow. Romance is alive and thriving, I see."

"No, seriously," Charles continued, shaking his head. "That tiramisu was too good. Now every other tiramisu I eat will be a disappointment. You’ve ruined me."

She smirked. "That’s the price you pay."

Charles groaned. "I despise you."

She hummed, clearly enjoying his suffering. "Well, if it helps, they have different staff on Mondays."

He glanced at her. "And?"

She grinned. "So, if you want another piece, we could just… go again."

Charles narrowed his eyes. "How do you even know this?"

She took a deep breath, like she was trying very hard to act normal before saying something completely unhinged. "Because I have tried everything to get that tiramisu again. I have studied their staff schedules, noted which days the chef isn’t working, and even considered staging a fake engagement like 15 times, but my friends—" she threw her hands up in frustration "—are all cowards who refuse to propose to me for the sake of dessert."

Charles was already laughing before she even finished. "I cannot believe you have gone to these lengths for tiramisu."

"It’s not just tiramisu, Charles. It’s a masterpiece. A once-in-a-lifetime experience. A divine creation that mere mortals like us barely deserve. And yet, my so-called friends refuse to put their morals aside for the cause." She sighed. "Until tonight. You, sir, are a true ally."

He smirked. "Clearly. And what do allies get?"

She shrugged. "Eternal gratitude? The satisfaction of knowing you’ve done something noble?"

Charles held out his phone. "Your number."

She blinked. "What?"

He wiggled the phone slightly. "So we can go on Monday, obviously."

Her lips parted, eyes scanning his face like she was trying to find the joke. "You actually want to go again?"

Charles shrugged. "I mean… yeah. That tiramisu was worth it. And, you know… you’re fun."

She studied him for a second before snorting. "Unbelievable."

"Believe it, mon amour." He winked.

Still smiling, she took his phone and added her number before handing it back. "Fine. Monday it is."

Charles grinned. "Perfect."

As they walked side by side, their conversation spiraled into absurdity.

"Okay," she said, "how many ways do you think we could disguise ourselves to get another piece?"

"Fake mustaches?" Charles suggested. "Though that might be too suspicious."

"Agreed. What about wigs? I could totally pull off blonde."

"Mmm… questionable. We’d need a full transformation."

She snapped her fingers. "Fake accents! If we pretend to be tourists, they might not recognize us."

Charles gasped. "Genius. We’ll go in, act completely clueless—where should we be from?"

"Not Australia. You could never pull off an Aussie accent."

"Fine. Italian tourists. Very authentic."

She laughed. "You realize this is insane, right?"

Charles smirked, nudging her playfully. "And yet, you’re still planning it with me."

She groaned. "I hate that you have a point."

As their ridiculous tiramisu heist plans continued, Charles found himself thinking that maybe—just maybe—Valentine’s Day wasn’t so bad after all.

[bvrnesher]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐘 𝐎𝐍𝐄

cw: none.

ㅤ୨ৎㅤ🌙ㅤ˳ 𝒑���𝒓𝒄𝒚 𝒋𝒂𝒄𝒌𝒔𝒐𝒏 ! 𝒂𝒑𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒅𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒇𝒆𝒎. 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

﹙𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒉 𝒊𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒂𝒈𝒆! ﹚ꪆ

𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗛𝗔𝗗 𝗡𝗢 𝗜𝗗𝗘𝗔 𝗪𝗛𝗔𝗧 the future had in store when you said yes to that son of Ares.

You were relatively lucky. Everyone liked charismatic people—you figured that out the moment you arrived at camp.

I mean, you were beautiful, kind, and… well, everything a daughter of Aphrodite was supposed to be.

Some people thought that made you shallow, but that was subjective. The thing was, good or bad, people were always watching you.

And you liked the attention, sure, but sometimes it was too much. Lately, your ex—an idiot son of Ares—decided it’d be a great idea to tell every camper at a bonfire party in the woods that you’d slept with him.

People said you were lucky. Lucky to be a daughter of Aphrodite, ridiculously gorgeous and popular, but… well, you felt more like you’d been used.

And you meant that. You found out that every single guy who had sworn to love you for a lifetime had a pretty short concept of what that meant—and not just because they were demigods.

Everything had a limit, including you. So it wasn’t a surprise when, a week later, you ended up crying on a forgotten dock, way out at the furthest edge of the camp’s beach.

The waves crashed against the rocks while the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a sunset that, under any other circumstance, you would’ve considered beautiful—if only your eyes weren’t drowning in tears just as salty as the ocean.

You cursed under your breath when you heard the wooden planks of the dock creak under unfamiliar footsteps. Pressing the heels of your hands against your eyes, you tried to force the tears to stop.

You didn’t turn around as you wiped your face. Not until you heard a voice you recognized anywhere.

A voice belonging to a very specific idiot.

"Hey, you okay?"

Percy’s voice came from behind you, sounding ridiculously concerned compared to his usual habit of messing with you over… well, everything.

Seriously. Why now?

"Yeah," you answered on instinct, steady but quieter than usual.

Percy wasn’t that much of an idiot.

"Do you need something, or can you leave already?" The words came out harsher than you meant, but you couldn’t help it.

He frowned at your tone but hesitated before responding.

"No." His voice lacked the usual teasing edge. No witty comeback, no sarcasm—just that. "I don’t want to."

You let out an exasperated sigh, keeping your gaze fixed on the ocean, not even daring to look at him.

"Jackson, seriously, I’m not in the mood for your—"

"I’m not an idiot," he cut in, though even he didn’t sound entirely convinced. "I asked if you were okay." His voice was softer this time, surprisingly gentle coming from him.

For a second, he considered just walking away, letting you be miserable in peace. He had enough problems of his own—he didn’t need to get involved in yours.

And yet, he found himself stepping closer, slow, hesitant.

"You look like a mess," he said, sitting next to you on the dock, his feet dangling off the edge, dipping into the salty water below.

"How sweet," you muttered, turning away from him, clearing your throat as you started playing with the hem of your dress.

Percy winced at his own words. He sucked at this. He wasn’t exactly good with comforting people.

"I mean… you… uh… You look beautiful, but I just—" He stopped, realizing his slip but not bothering to correct himself. "I mean, you don’t exactly look happy." He shifted uncomfortably.

“Oh, really? You think?” you didn’t meant sound like a jerk. He wasn’t being one. But old habits died hard.

Percy rolled his eyes.

“Look at me,” he said.

“No.” you refused, keeping your gaze locked on the waves.

Percy mumbled some curse in Ancient Greek. He could leave. He knew he should. But something kept him there. Impulse won over logic—again. Percy reached out, tilting your chin up between his fingers, forcing you to face him.

He frowned the second he saw your slightly red, tear-streaked eyes.

“This is ‘fine’ to you?”

You swallowed, caught off guard by the sudden touch, and felt heat rise to your face. You nodded and tried to pull away, but he held on just a little longer, keeping your eyes on his.

“We seriously need to work on your definition of ‘fine,’” he muttered.

His voice had softened.

Silence.

"You have a terrible definition of ‘okay.’"

He tilted his head, letting go of your chin only to wipe away a stray tear with his thumb.

And, as always, he didn’t think twice about it. And you? You almost died right there.

"Thanks," you murmured, your shoulders relaxing ever so slightly—something that never happened around him.

"Who did this to you?" he asked. His voice was relatively calm, but there was something else in his eyes, something you couldn’t quite place. Was it… protectiveness?

"No o—"

"Was it that idiot son of Ares?" he cut in before you could finish. "Figures. It’s always them. Just as dumb as their dad."

"Percy!" you gasped, but a laugh escaped before you could stop it.

"What? It’s not a lie," he said, meeting your gaze head-on.

His eyes. The kind you could drown in and wake up in Elysium. Not that you’d ever tell him that.

You smiled. He smiled back. And, of course, an idea popped into his head—just like always.

"Come on, get up." He stood, offering you his hand. "I can’t dance, but I’ve been told I’m hilarious when I try. Want to confirm that for me?"

The grin he gave you wasn’t one he usually directed at you. His eyes gleamed with that signature mischief of his.

You hesitated before taking his hand, letting him pull you to your feet. Looking up, you found him already watching you. For the past two years, he’d had a solid height advantage over you—not that you’d ever admit it bothered you.

"On a half-rotten dock, at the beach, with no music?" You raised a brow, almost amused. "And without knowing how to dance? I knew making a fool of yourself was your thing, but this is a new level."

He scoffed.

"I learned it from you."

"Yeah, right," you shot back. "You do it so naturally, I thought you were born with it."

Before you could react, his hand was at your waist, pulling you closer in one quick movement.

Your hands landed against his chest from the suddenness of it, but he barely reacted. Instead, he took one of your hands in his, intertwining your fingers.

"I’ve seen you dance," he murmured, his voice lower, softer. He leaned in, lips close to your ear. "Teach me." The warmth of his breath sent a shiver down your spine.

You swallowed hard.

"Put your hands like this," you murmured, adjusting the hand he had on your waist with your free one—bringing the two of you even closer.

You rested your head against his chest, and Percy felt his heart stumble. He exhaled, dropping his chin to the top of your head and closing his eyes, letting himself be guided by your steps.

You arched a brow at him. "You said you saw me dance before. When was that, Jackson?"

He shrugged, his movements awkward as he tried to follow your lead in what could barely be called a dance. "Once, in the Aphrodite cabin. One of your sisters was teaching you, I think. You weren’t terrible."

You scoffed, but the warmth creeping up your cheeks betrayed you. "So, you spy. How flattering."

"It’s not spying if it’s not intentional," he shot back, rolling his eyes, though the smirk never left his face.

His hands remained where they were—one on your waist, the other holding yours—as he led you in graceless, offbeat turns. You were pretty sure any child of Apollo watching would throw themselves into the sea from secondhand embarrassment. But Percy was right about one thing: he managed to make you laugh.

"Gods, you are awful at this," you wheezed between laughs, nearly tripping over his feet.

"I know," he said, all mock pride. "But at least you’re not crying anymore."

You froze. The laughter died on your lips, but the warmth in your chest did not. Percy stilled too, still holding your hand.

His eyes—those damn eyes—softened. And right then, with the salty breeze in the air and the waves crashing in the background, you knew you were screwed.

Percy Jackson had just made you forget your pain with nothing but a smile. Gods, what the hell was wrong with you? You didn’t even like Percy.

After a while, he started to catch the rhythm, the stumbles growing fewer.

"Like this?" he asked, voice quieter.

"Just like that," you answered.

A week later, the son of Ares woke up in the infirmary with no particular desire to go near water ever again.

ꪆৎ. Hope you guys liked it !

[heechwe]

anything for you | 𝐣𝐰𝐰

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ MY FIC FOR JUPITER'S SECRET CUPID COLLAB

୨୧ pairing: jeon wonwoo x fem!reader ୨୧ word count: 3k ୨୧ genre: slight comedy, fluff, smut ୨୧ tags: best friends to lovers au, drunk confession, dirty talk, breeding kink, unprotected sex, creampie, cum eating ୨୧ synopsis: Wonwoo has been your best friend forever. And maybe something more could be in the cards with a mature, sophisticated confession. Or a lot of alcohol.

⟢ AUTHOR'S NOTE: Inspired by LANY's song "anything 4 u"! Big thanks to my betas for this fic Tiya (@gyubakeries), Honey (@heesuncore), and Mitchie (@seokgyuu)! I love you all so much. And this fic is for my Secret Cupid Ally (@lovetaroandtaemin)!! I love you loads and you're an incredible friend. I'm so glad I got you so I could share a small token of appreciation for our friendship. I hope you love this story as much as I did writing it! ♥︎

Valentine’s Day weekend. The one weekend you have to suffer through everything being doused in red, pink, and white decorations. It’s everywhere: across your work office, all around the city you live in, and even plastered around the hole-in-the-wall bar that all of your friends are drinking in now. 

It’s not one of your least favorite holidays, per se. But the intensity of it can be incredibly draining. The constant declarations of affection, the emotionally gooey visual representations of one’s desire for another person, it’s too much even for some of your own friends who are coupled up. 

The reality of your loneliness pushes your mood down just enough that staring down your third bottle of beer makes you yearn for another, despite your alcohol tolerance being less than stellar. And to make matters worse, it sucks to be surrounded by others’ happiness when you’re so alone in love and in love with someone too enmeshed in your life as a friend, rather than a person of romantic interest.

Wonwoo sits with Vernon and Soonyoung at the high-top bar, nursing tequila shots and Coronas without bothering to look back at the rest of your table of friends. Yes, you were all celebrating Soonyoung’s new promotion and Vernon finally nabbing a girlfriend in time for Valentine’s this year, and they only stalked off a few minutes ago to share a few drinks on their own, but you wish Wonwoo was sitting next to you again. 

You always mocked him for telling you to slow down. To drink water to avoid dehydration or to eat something to offset your alcohol intake. With all of his parroted wisdom that drives some of his closest friends crazy, you love him for it. You love him for a lot of reasons, really.

“Maybe you should just tell him, you know?” Seokmin says across from you, looking over at you from the rim of his Whiskey Sunrise. It’s a sickly shade of red, grenadine mixed in with the other ingredients to commemorate the holiday season. You wonder if it tastes like cough syrup, because it sure looks like it.

“You think I haven’t thought of that?” You ask with a slur, licking the remaining beer on your lips. “It’s not that easy to destroy seven years of friendship.”

“Come on. You act like nobody else has noticed when it’s plain as day, babe,” Seungkwan pipes up next to you, elbowing you softly in the ribs with an accompanying waggle of his eyebrows.

“And what is your best course of action, Dum and Dee?” You split your stare between both of your friends, your irritation peaking. “I just go over to that bar and confess everything to him. Then he’ll say he’s felt the same this entire time and we ride off into the sunset together?”

“One, you don’t need to be rude,” Seokmin responds. “Two, you don’t have to make it so dramatic. Get him alone tomorrow, maybe. Talk it out, see where it goes.”

“Exactly,” Seungkwan says. “It doesn’t need to be this big movie scene thing.”

“What movie?” Soonyoung asks, sitting back down next to Seungkwan and in front of his empty bowl of ramen. The other boys follow suit, Vernon alongside Seokmin and Wonwoo next to you once again.

It feels like torture and sanctuary in the same moment, so close but so far from what you wish the two of you could be.

“Nothing, just this documentary we all saw the other night,” you respond. You press your lips to your bottle again, pouting when the last droplets hit your tongue. “I’m gonna get another,” you say to nobody in particular. Wonwoo perks up once he notices you stumbling to get out of your chair.

“Not so fast,” Wonwoo says as you fall back into his arms. “I think I should get you home.”

“No, the night’s still young!” You whine into his jacket, your hair ruffling the skin on his neck. His chest rumbles with laughter, but nothing at the moment is funny to you. You don’t want to leave just yet, and he doesn’t need to treat you like a baby. “We still haven't even gone to karaoke.”

“Another night. Go sleep it off!” Vernon calls from behind you.

“You kids have fun!” Seokmin says with a conspiratory wink. You and Wonwoo walk towards the entrance of the bar, and you want to throw something at Seokmin to make your idiot best friend’s dumb smirk and even more ridiculous idea of confessing your feelings to your mutual friend blip out of existence.

Wonwoo has seen you at your lowest. He consoled you after you ran your car into a parked motorcycle when you were sixteen, your humiliation palpable the whole three hours you both waited for the police to show up. He’s held you in his arms after every failed romantic relationship, telling you it was always them and never you when it ended poorly. There’s nothing the two of you haven’t been there for each other for, no experience too vulnerable to share and overcome together.

But Wonwoo holding your hair in a makeshift ponytail as you throw up may just be the all-time low of your embarrassing moments. He whispers in your ear that you’re okay and rubs your back with a soft hand, and you feel all the worse for it. How could he ever love someone this prone to disaster, this cringeworthy?

“You should go home,” you cry into the toilet bowl. “I’m disgusting.”

Wonwoo says your name in a mocking tone, pretending to be serious but in no way critical of you or the situation. He takes off his plaid button up and throws it in some random corner of your bathroom, free to hold you as close as possible as you continue dry-heaving. “You’re not disgusting.”

“Of course you’d say that, you’re you.”

He laughs again, tucking what hair he can from your face so you can lift your head off of the toilet. “And what’s that?”

You look at him with puffy, half-open eyes. “Perfect.”

He helps you up from the tile floor and moves you to your bedroom on your weak legs. He sheds off your overshirt as you kick off your denim jeans. Your mind rumbles with a whirlpool of thoughts as his brain ruminates on the word you used when comparing himself to you.

“I’m in no way perfect, kid,” he whispers. The nickname he’s used on you forever feels like a backhand, a copious amount of salt in a wound you know will never heal. He’ll always see you at a distance from him, his feelings leagues away from yours.

“Don’t call me that,” you cry into your pillow, resting your cheek deep into the material to muffle the quiet sobs in your throat. He can’t be serious, talking to you so tenderly when you’re falling apart.

“Hey, can you look at me?” You shake your head and settle deeper into the pile of comforters and throw pillows. Wonwoo suddenly feels his gut turn into a dozen knots. He doesn’t know what’s wrong, how to fix it, or what to say to make things better, and it kills him. “Why are you acting like this?”

“Because you’re too perfect to love someone like me. But I love you so much, and it fucking sucks,” you hiccup, the darkness of your bed making you believe he’s not there, this isn’t real, and it’s okay to release all the words in your heart into the dark. “And every time I see those damn red and pink hearts all over the place, I think of you and I want to die.”

The force of your confession almost knocks Wonwoo on his ass. At the very least, he settles onto the desk chair near your bed and hears your whimpers give way to light snores.

He runs his hands through your hair again and tucks the covers up to your chin. He holds himself back from pressing a kiss to your forehead, the one thing he’s always done when you’ve passed out countless times before in his presence, but never recalled the next morning. This time, though, he prays you’ll remember your drunken admission.

“I hope you meant everything you said,” he whispers before retreating to your couch to fall asleep to the sounds of the cityscape below.

You wake up to low jazz playing from your living room TV and the smell of sizzling eggs. Each limb aches from the heavy sleep you fell under last night. You quietly pad out of your room to find Wonwoo cooking what looks to be the perfect mix of breakfast and hangover food. A makeshift Bloody Mary sits on the counter next to him, waiting for you.

Wonwoo turns when he senses you behind him, and he grins. “Hey, you’re awake. I was worried you’d be passed out until the afternoon. I wouldn’t blame you, though.”

You blush a shade deeper, still sporting your tank top and clad in a pair of boy shorts. You forgot you had taken your pants off before slipping into bed the night prior, but it isn’t the first time Wonwoo’s seen you half-clothed. You drink half of the concoction and set it down, your headache throbbing a little less. “How bad was I last night?”

He smirks. “Bad enough to throw up another three times.”

You groan into the back of your hand and hitch yourself up on the counter across from Wonwoo, his focus still on the over-medium eggs in the pan. “I’m sorry you had to take care of me again.”

“I wanted to,” he says without looking up at you. “I always want to be here when you need me.”

“I know, I know, it’s your job to say that,” you joke.

He drops the metal spatula next to him on the stove, and you jump up at the sound. He doesn’t look up, doesn’t say a word for a moment, and you’re unsure if he’s even breathing when you ask him if he’s okay. “So, you don’t remember then?” His question comes out almost like a statement, but the wavered edge of it proves he is concerned with whatever has slipped your mind.

“Woo, you’re freaking me out.”

He turns the stove to a low, simmering heat before facing you. His eyes look sad but expectant, waiting for the inevitable to come to you. “You really have no idea what I’m talking about?”

You tuck your hair behind your ear, and in that instant, you recall that last hour before you fell asleep. Wonwoo helping you into bed. Crying in your bed. And all the words that followed.

The memories bring tears to your eyes and your hands to your face. “Oh my god—”

Wonwoo takes your palms away and holds them to his mouth. “Stop running from me.”

“Don’t make me say it again, Woo, please.” Your bottom lip trembles. You fight every instinct to run from the kitchen and out of the apartment altogether, wanting to accept the continuous pain of hiding your feelings than the truth that this could be the end of the both of you as you know it, for better or worse.

“Fine, you don’t have to.” Wonwoo’s lips curl into that grin you’ve adored for almost a decade. “I’ll say what I need to first, then.”

He takes a deep breath and sets his jaw. “I’ve been in love with you since the minute you threw your ice-cream at that biker who almost clipped me in the foot on the way to school. Remember? I may have loved you long before that, but that’s the moment I realized.

“And I don’t want to lose you. I want to be more than just the guy you call your best friend. I want to be the only friend that matters, the friend that kisses you goodnight and tells you how beautiful you are because there’s no other way to describe you. I love you, too, kid, whether you realized it or not.”

A breathy yelp leaves your mouth before you kiss Wonwoo on the mouth. It’s a hard one, a clash of teeth and a bit of tongue, but you didn’t expect less from such an unexpected and perfect confession. Maybe this was the way you rode off into the sunset together. Sure, there was the smell of burning eggs instead of the sounds of a white stallion gallivanting off to the unforeseeable future, but it’s perfect. It’s yours.

Wonwoo shuts the burner off entirely before he takes you by the hand into your bedroom. When your bed is in full view, he kisses you long and slow. It’s nothing like the first kisses you shared a second ago, but it’s earth-shattering all the same.

You moan into his mouth when he presses a free hand to your breast, teasing the skin above your shirt until your nipple pebbles.

“Is this too fast?” He asks in a gruff voice. “We don’t have to do anything if you’re not comfortable, I just—”

You press a finger to his lips, effectively shutting him up. “If you do not take my clothes off right now and fuck me, I will never speak to you again.”

Wonwoo smirks and kisses you once more, only stopping to pull your tank top over your head and rip your underwear off of your legs. His fingers delve between your folds, and you shudder in his hold but refuse to let him take his hand away.

“You like this,” he whispers, the statement thick with his lust.

“Yes, it feels so good,” you whimper. You gasp when two of his fingers curl inside of you, his thumb still nestled on top of your clit to swirl around with the pad. The amount of pleasure he’s already given you is indescribable, and he hasn’t even truly done much yet.

You whine when he takes his hand away, but it’s to discard his own clothes and sit at the edge of your bed. He beckons for you to sit on top of him, and he doesn’t think twice about swirling himself between your essence and lining the head of his dick with your entrance. His tip is so swollen and covered in pre-cum, there’s no problem sinking it inside of your heat.

You share a mutual curse of pleasure when he bottoms out, his pelvic bone meeting your skin. You stay like that for a moment. You’re so full and unable to move from the size of him filling every empty space inside of you, you think this has to be a dream. Last night has not given way to day yet, and now is just a conjuring of your cruel mind. 

You get lost in your thoughts for so long Wonwoo brings his hand to your face and traces his fingers over your cheek, staring at you lovingly. “Where’d you go?”

You smile shyly and kiss his nose. “I just can’t believe this is happening.”

“I guess I’ll just have to remind you it’s real.”

He takes your ass between his hands and spreads you out before thrusting up inside of you, making you gasp hard. He moves long and slow underneath you, almost taking his cock out of your pussy completely before delving back into you.

“I want to give you everything,” he pants. “All that I have—will have—is for you. You know that, right?”

“Yes, fuck,” you whisper, meeting his hips with yours as you try to set your own pace, sinking down onto him with every thrust where your skin meets with loud smacks.

“I love you so much,” he says into your neck before biting down on your soft skin. You moan loudly and press yourself deeper and harder against him. His cock hits you at the perfect angle as you straddle him, and you feel the start of your climax deep in your stomach.

Seven years of missed opportunities. More than too many chances for days and nights like this spent together so intimately gone to the wind. It’s easy to be regretful for all the time that you’ve wasted without each other, but you realize it’s not wasted at all.

Every step, every thread of fate that tied you two together, brought you here. Whatever comes of today is just an extension of what has already existed in your hearts. So what more is there to ask for?

“Fuck, I’m so close,” he growls in your ear. His balls smack against your skin as he continues to slam into you. Tears spring in your eyes as he moves even harder, trying to take you both to your peaks together. “Where can I come, baby?”

“Inside of me. I want all of it, all of you. Please,” you beg. You bounce harder on top of him, circling your clit with your fingers to fall off the precipice with Wonwoo by your side.

“You want to feel all of me, yeah? So full of my cum it’s all you’ll think about?” He smirks and replaces the fingers on your clit with his own. “Maybe I’ll fuck a baby into you with how much cum I give you. Would you like that?”

You see stars behind your eyelids as you listen to the beautiful, dirty words on his lips. You nod vigorously, wanting nothing more than for him to claim you in this way. It’s all you’ve thought about for years, truthfully.

“God, I’m coming,” you say into his neck, thighs quivering as the rest of your body goes slack from the pleasure. Wonwoo grunts into the shell of your ear as he orgasms himself, his seed spilling into you so deep you think there’s no way any remnant of him will slip out.

When he takes himself out of you, he swirls the mixture of both of your releases on his fingers before you take those fingers into your mouth, sucking them dry.

Wonwoo chuckles and kisses you deeply, the taste of the two of you on both of your tongues. “That’s one way to end Valentine’s weekend, don’t you think?”

You giggle and kiss him on both cheeks, too eager to see the rest of your future together. “You could say that.”

@gyubakeries @loserlvrss @okiedokrie-main @brownbunnyb

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 ౨ৎ˚₊

@kstrucknet @k-films @kvanity-main @lapydiaries @moadiarynet @/sweetvenomnet @onedoornet @deoboyznet @violetanet @whipped-kpop-creators

[jtownraindancer]

Full text below the cut, just in case:

Is Somebody Doing Something?!

Yes. Let me break it down for you.

Jay Kuo Feb 03, 2025

This weekend’s head-spinning headlines were enough to spike blood pressure nationwide. Mass purges of prosecutors and agents at the FBI. A shutdown of an entire agency at USAID. Even a tech bro putsch at Treasury and the Office of Personnel Management, giving an unelected billionaire access and possible control over our entire federal workforce HR and some $6 trillion paid annually by our federal payment system.

The most common question I saw across social media and in the comments was understandable: Is somebody doing something about this?

The short and important answer is yes. And we need to understand a few things to help bring things into focus.

First, the timing of all of this was intentional. It all went down on a Friday night, when there would be less ability among affected employees to communicate and resist; decreased national press attention; and closed congressional offices, courthouses and law offices. They wanted us to panic for several days and make us feel like we were rudderless and without clear options.

But today is the first business day after last Friday’s bombshells, and I can report confidently that the anti-Trump/Musk response is well underway.

It’s helpful to think of the response as falling into four distinct yet sometimes overlapping categories, each with increasing urgency. These responses include the personal, the political, the legal and the popular.

Once we place a response into one of these categories, it’s far easier to assess whether it is serving its intended purpose. This level of disciplined reasoning will also help us all prevent the common error of expecting, for example, personal responses to create legal results, or political responses to generate popular ones. These are all very different beasts, each important in its own right, but usually led by very different actors.

The personal responses

The front line defenders of our democracy at this moment are the civil servants whose roles and responsibilities are being upended or whose jobs are on the chopping block under the new administration. How they respond matters a great deal for a number of reasons, both moral and practical.

From a moral standpoint, standing up to authoritarianism, while risking persecution or even violence from the MAGA mob, takes courage. One person’s courage is sometimes all it takes for many to find their own.

From a practical standpoint, stopping an illegal move initially buys valuable time for the press to be alerted, for union leaders and politicians to organize and respond, and for lawyers to be called in. Personal resistance is the first fistful of sand thrown into the gears of a takeover machine. In the past three days alone, we have witnessed some heroic personal responses.

James Dennehy at the FBI

Nine high-ranking career FBI officials had already been forced out, spreading fear and uncertainty in the ranks of the Bureau. Then on Friday the Justice Department, through its acting AG Emil Bove, who was once also Trump’s personal attorney, ordered the FBI to collect names of anyone who even so much as helped investigate the January 6 attack on the Capitol, a sign of a purge that would include some 6,000 rank-and-file agents.

A top ranking FBI official, James Dennehy, who heads up the largest FBI office in the country based in New York, refused to remain silent. He vowed in a defiant email to his staff to “dig in” while praising the interim leadership of the Bureau. Dennehy wrote, “Today, we find ourselves in the middle of a battle of our own, as good people are being walked out of the F.B.I. and others are being targeted because they did their jobs in accordance with the law and F.B.I. policy.” Dennehy compared the current situation to when he had to dig a small foxhole five feet deep as a Marine in the 1990s and hunker down for safety.

“It sucked,” he wrote. “But it worked.”

David Lebryk at Treasury

The first person to refuse Elon Musk’s team’s outrageous and illegal requests at Treasury was David Lebryk. He was the acting Treasury Secretary until Trump’s selection, Scott Bessent, was recently appointed and confirmed.

As a career civil servant, Lebryk oversaw the Fiscal Service, a little-known but mission critical office that handles more than one billion payments from the federal government every year, disbursing over $5.4 trillion. After Lebryk’s refusal to grant Musk’s team access, he was placed on administrative leave. Only then did Lebryk announce his retirement after 35 years of service.

Lebryk did not comply, meaning those 35 years’ of knowledge about how to read, sort and control payments was not immediately available to Musk’s team. More sand in the gears.

“The fiscal service performs some of the most vital functions in government,” Lebryk wrote to his colleagues in his farewell email. “Our work may be unknown to most of the public, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t exceptionally important.”

Director and Dep. Director for Security, John Vorhees and Brian McGill at USAID

When Elon Musk’s so-called “Department of Government Efficiency” (DOGE) demanded access to classified materials in restricted areas from the U.S. Agency for International Development (USAID), two officials said, “Not on my watch.”

Director of Security John Vorhees and Deputy Director for Security Brian McGill at USAID understood that granting such access could expose classified information to individuals lacking the security clearances to view them. In refusing DOGE access, both officials acted to protect our nation’s secrets. For that they were both placed on leave Saturday night, joining a growing list of suspensions and layoffs at that agency.

The Trump White House’s official response to press inquiries came from DOGE spokesperson Katie Miller (the wife of Stephen Miller…) who reposted an AP article on Twitter with the comment, “No classified material was accessed without proper security clearances.” For starters, that of course misses the point. Merely granting access to classified materials would have been a serious breach of security. Further, we shouldn’t take this administration’s word on anything, especially given Trump’s own mishandling and theft of classified documents.

The political responses

Before I get into some of the responses of Democratic politicians to the many nightmares that unfolded over the weekend, I’d like to reset some common incorrect assumptions and expectations.

A party that is out of power in a democracy typically doesn’t have the power to do very much. In the Senate, for example, Democrats alone can’t prevent a quorum and can’t stop most legislation from passing. They can’t block nominees without help from less extreme GOP senators. And the number of procedural blocks they can put up are limited. At best these can stall, but ultimately not stop, things like cabinet confirmations.

The job of politicians from the party that is out of power is to make the political argument for why their party should be returned to power. That means highlighting the misdeeds, mistakes and malfeasance of the other party. It means providing clear statements about the rules, norms and processes that were violated so that the press can report on them from experts whose job it is to understand legislation and limits on power.

Note also that politicians normally do not themselves file lawsuits unless they were personally injured in some way. And even then there are many reasons why lawsuits are best left to other litigants, such as unions, state attorneys general or nonprofits, who have the resources and time to bring complex suits with seasoned lawyers.

Some political responses may help lead to other types of responses, but that is not their primary end. The primary goal of a political response is to make the political case. And that’s it.

So it will help us and our cause to stop rolling our eyes when, say, a politician writes a stern letter to a Trump official demanding that the administration cease its illegal activity. That is actually what our senators and representatives are supposed to do. That is how they set the record and inform the press and through them the larger public. As discussed above, politicians don’t bring lawsuits. They usually don’t lead street protests. And the more experienced among them don’t waste political capital on performative stunts that don’t actually fix anything.

That said, those letters and statements, which help establish the public record, are a vital resource. They are cited in lawsuits, often as evidence that the administration was on notice of its illegal actions. They point investigative journalists toward more reporting. And they are an important expenditure of political capital, signaling the priorities of our representatives.

With that in mind, let’s look at some examples out of the many political responses we have already seen. And as a bonus, I’ll include some ratcheted up action by two U.S. senators addressing the travesty of the USAID office.

Sen. Wyden on the Treasury takeover

Shortly after news broke that private teams of software engineers had forcefully commandeered access to the federal payment system at the Treasury Department, Sen. Ron Wyden (D-OR) wrote to newly confirmed Treasury Secretary Scott Bessent. In that letter, Wyden blasted the move as “politically motivated meddling” that “risks severe damage to our country and the economy."

Wyden was alarmed that “officials associated with Musk may have intended to access these payment systems to illegally withhold payments to any number of programs.” Wyden also raised the alarm over the current financial strain on the federal government, which is now relying on some accounting maneuvers to meet its obligations after reaching the debt limit.

He also noted Musk’s business dealings in China, which has a history of cyberattacks on U.S. government systems. Wyden warned that Musk’s Chinese business ties could create conflicts of interest and present a national security risk, particularly if Musk were granted access to these sensitive systems.

When a staffer or a lawyer reads such a demand letter, a few things jump out. Bessent is now on notice that the system could be severely injured by Musk’s access; that it would be illegal to withhold any payments; that the debt limit and the need for the GOP to raise it is on Wyden’s mind; and that there’s a huge security risk because of China. Those are things the public should understand, too. And they should know these things were communicated directly to the Trump White House, especially if they wind up coming true.

Sens. Coons and Murphy on USAID

Over the weekend, Musk and the White House went to war with USAID, the agency that provides billions in aid to stricken parts of the world. It’s the only thing keeping hundreds of thousands from starving in places like Somalia. And it’s keeping the promise of democracy alive in nations like Hungary—which is probably why Musk hates it so much.

Sen. Chris Coons (D-DE) used his position to give interviews and to raise the alarm over what the administration was up to. “All the signals of how the senior staff have been put on administrative leave, many of the field staff and headquarters staff have been put on a gag order,” said Coons on Saturday. Coons is a member of both the foreign relations and appropriations Senate committees. “It seems more like the early stages of shutting down than it does of reviewing it or merely retitling it,” Coons added.

Also going to bat for USAID was Sen. Chris Murphy (D-CT), who warned over social media,

Trump isn’t satisfied just to close programs and fire staff. He is now planning to ELIMINATE THE ENTIRE AGENCY. Maybe this weekend. That would be illegal. He cannot unilaterally close a federal agency. Another assault on the Constitution.

Trump may indeed have been planning to issue an Executive Order as early as today purporting to disband USAID. Indeed, Musk claimed in a Twitter Spaces talk late Sunday night that Trump had agreed that USAID should be shut down and that the two had gone over in great detail how that would be accomplished.

But as Sen. Murphy indicated, such a unilateral move would be illegal. As of this morning, employees at USAID headquarters have been told not to report to work. But that doesn’t mean USAID is dissolved. In fact, as a legal analysis in Just Security out on Saturday noted, Congress established USAID as its own agency, and therefore under current law only Congress can abolish it.

The enabling Act for USAID in fact is unequivocal:

Unless abolished pursuant to the reorganization plan submitted under section 6601 of this title, and except as provided in section 6562 of this title, there is within the Executive branch of Government the United States Agency for International Development as an entity described in section 104 of title 5. (emphasis added)

As Trump/Musk move to dissolve the agency, expect legal challenges from the nonprofits and organizations directly affected by the loss in funding and operational support.

Sen. Blumenthal and the FBI purges

Senior Democratic leaders have not remained silent as a purge of top FBI officials has unfolded. Sen. Richard Blumenthal (D-CT), who sits on the Judiciary Committee and directly questioned FBI Director Kash Patel, released an official statement about the firings:

“This reported mass purging of professional law enforcement is surreal and sickening. Less than twenty-four hours after President Trump’s nominee to run the Federal Bureau of Investigation testified to me that there would be no political retribution against agents, apparently dozens – maybe even hundreds – of federal law enforcement officials may be fired. I am appalled by this vile retaliation against agents who sought to hold accountable people who stabbed cops with flagpoles and crushed officers until they broke bones. The silence from my Republican colleagues is disgusting and deafening.”

Again, using a lawyer’s ear on this, the words “mass purging,” “professional,” “political retribution,” “retaliation” and “hold accountable” jump out. That is not only the political case that Blumenthal intends to make to the electorate (and wants others to echo and amplify), but also a signal that the firings as he understands them violate rules protecting civil servants from this kind of politicized firing.

He also took to social media with a stark warning about firing any agents who even happened to work on January 6 cases:

FBI agents working on the Trump criminal cases were almost all ASSIGNED—they weren’t volunteers. This political retribution is deeply destructive, telling agents they can be punished for following proper directives. It’s fatal to discipline, morale, & recruiting.

Sens. Kim and Schatz

As I was editing this, I saw two interesting developments with other U.S. Senators. Andy Kim (D-NJ) went to USAID office—his very first government job—and stood outside its doors, drawing press attention while indicating that employees had been blocked from entering the building. “This is a blatant, illegal action by the Trump administration that is trying to overturn something that is codified in federal law,” Sen. Kim said.

And Brian Schatz (D-HI) has announced he is putting a blanket hold on all of Trump’s State Department nominees until USAID is back up and running. At a press conference, Schatz blasted the administration, saying, “If you want to change an agency, introduce a bill and pass a law. You cannot wave away an agency that you don't like or that you disagree with by executive order, or by literally storming into the building and taking over the servers. That is not how the American system of government works.”

As former GOP strategist Rick Wilson of the Lincoln Project remarked, “This is the way.”

UPDATE: Over the course of the week, many members of Congress attended rallies held in front of government buildings including the Treasury Department and USAID demanding that DOGE members have their access to sensitive and private information be terminated.

Here come the lawsuits

We already have seen several legal actions against DOGE, with four cases alleging that the entity has violated transparency, conflict of interest and other relevant federal laws. These suits are seeking to kneecap DOGE from even being allowed to operate.

We have also seen lawsuits brought by blue state attorneys general (led by Leticia James of New York) and by nonprofits seeking an injunction against the federal government-wide pause on financing and grants. That entire effort by the Trump White House to freeze funds met with such pushback that the original memo implementing the freeze was rescinded, and a federal judge, who reviewed Press Secretary Karoline’s Leavitt’s misleading post on social media claiming that the freeze was still in effect, expanded the injunction beyond the memo to include the entire administration.

That is important, because Musk is currently threatening to halt payments that Congress has already authorized through his control of the federal payment system, deciding on his own that something is “fraud” or “waste.” But Musk doesn’t have that power, and he certainly doesn’t have it in light of the judge’s injunction. If he defies it, as he has shown a willingness to do in the past, he could be held in contempt of court.

On Sunday, the New York Times reported that the FBI agents affected by the purge and the inquiries into whether they even participated in any investigations of January 6 defendants have retained legal counsel to protect their rights as government employees. Their lawyers sent a letter to Acting Director Bove, warning, “If you proceed with terminations and/or public exposure of terminated employees’ identities, we stand ready to vindicate their rights through all available legal means.”

Musk’s team’s takeover of the OPM, USAID and Treasury has also triggered numerous apparent violations of law including the illegal exposure of personal private information and illegal access to classified documents by persons unauthorized to view them. Employees whose privacy rights were violated would have standing to sue, and it seems highly likely that such cases are coming quite soon. One lawsuit, filed by whistleblowers against Musk’s team for failure to conduct a privacy impact assessment before a new server mass emailed federal workers, already landed in the federal courts last week.

I’ll have more to say on the actual suits once they are filed. Again, because the attacks on our system and the violations of law occurred late on a Friday, we wouldn’t expect lawsuits to be ready to move forward until, at the earliest, the following business day—which is today.

UPDATES: Lawsuits filed this week by labor unions and other parties against the Treasury and its Secretary, the Office of Personnel Management, and the Department of Labor have all seen some form of judicial intervention. In the case of the Treasury, a federal court that had indicated it was leaning toward granting a temporary restraining order issued an order, agreed to by the parties, limiting access of DOGE members who were now working as Treasury employees to “read only” access and preventing the unauthorized distribution of sensitive material outside of the Department. This is an ongoing matter.

The popular response

Grassroots organizing groups are swinging into action. I want to highlight just a few examples from the groups Indivisible and MoveOn, which held an online collective action call late Sunday night with over 50,000 people registered to attend.

These groups are organizing direct pressure campaigns upon the Senate as well as protests outside of the federal buildings taken over by Musk and his engineers, who as Wired reported include several young men barely out of high school who have worked at Musk’s other companies or for his billionaire pal, Peter Thiel.

Specifically, Indivisible and MoveOn have called for daily protests outside of OPM each morning. They have also organized a protest set for Tuesday evening at Treasury demanding Musk and his team be ejected.

As a side note, the first organized protests against ICE and its policies, involving thousands of people in Los Angeles, Dallas, and many other cities across the country took place over the weekend.

It’s too early to tell whether protests against the Trump administration will continue to grow in strength or what effect they may have on the situation on the ground. There is some concern that Trump will use any sign of civil unrest as an excuse to invoke the Insurrection Act and turn U.S. military forces against peaceful protestors. But the threat of possible overreach by Trump should not and likely will not deter protestors, and if Trump chooses to escalate in this fashion he may lose further public support.

But one thing is already clear: Resistance to Trump and Musk will take many forms, all of which can involve some level of participation from the public. We can amplify stories of the personal heroes who stood up to the illegal orders. We can support our Democratic leaders even as we urge them to take stronger stances. We can donate to the nonprofits who are litigating constitutional rights on our behalf. And we can take direct, peaceful action through organized groups like Indivisible and MoveOn.

As the saying goes, we can all be the someone who is doing something.

Quietly losing my mind over the fact that Elon Musk has straight up orchestrated a coup of our executive branch and like....I don't even know what, if any, system we have in place to fix this. Like... He's just taken control of the money and locked out the actual appointed officials. What the fuck.

[fangirl-writes]

Insufferable

JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

Warning(s): Kissing, weed smoking, no swearing in this one surprisingly.

Request: Hi! I notice you haven't posted in while, so it's chill if you don't get to this request. I just really like your fics. I was wondering if you could write a JJ Maybank x Reader from the perspective of the Charleston episode in season 2? I was thinking J and reader are in a relationship already, and most of it's just them talking and bantering with Pope and Kie, and maybe cuddling/giggling/kissing on/in the truck? I think it'd be cute! Love your stuff!

Notes: This was fun. Usually these fics have more of the actual plot going on that I have to weave in and out of, but this one I was able to keep it to the one scene or so scene that was requested.

There were a lot of worse situations to be in.

Sitting in the back of Pope's dad's truck on the ferry on your way to Charleston and passing a blunt back and forth with JJ was pretty good, all things considered.

Pope and Kie were perched on the tailgate while you and JJ's backs were against the window.

"Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?" JJ said.

"You talking to me or the weed?" you joked.

"Oh, you're beautiful, too, baby," JJ joked back, blowing his smoke in your face.

You laughed, shoving him and stealing the blunt from between his fingers.

"Asshole," you said, affectionately.

"Can you two focus?" Pope said, frowning. "We're trying to clear John B.'s name here. And right now this letter's our best bet."

"Right. Stay on task," JJ said as you discreetly passed the blunt to Kiara. "That's why I love ya, Pope."

Kie took a hit before standing up and handing it to him. "Which Pope you gonna be today?"

Pope considered it for a moment, eyes darting between the blunt and Kiara's face. "I'm good."

He shifted back a little, folding his hands.

"I'm gonna try to stay focused."

"Good Pope," Kiara said, disappointedly taking another hit before passing you back the joint.

"Boring Pope," you joked.

"I'll take that," JJ said, reaching for the joint that you quickly pulled out of his reach.

Pope threw his legs over the side of the truck and hopped out of the bed, leaning against the side as you dangled it above JJ's head.

"Sit, boy! Speak!" you said.

"Arf!" JJ responded, biting at the joint like a dog vying for a treat.

You laughed, allowing him to grab it and scratching behind his ear playfully. "Good boy!"

"You two are disgusting," Kiara said, laying down on her back in the bed of the truck with her feet propped up on the side.

"You're just jealous," JJ said, inhaling deeply and opening his mouth to let the smoke fly out.

"Right, that's it," Kiara said, sarcastically, taking the joint and another hit.

JJ leaned over and began whispering in your ear, biting at your ear lobe a little, making you giggle.

"C'mon, baby, give me a kiss," JJ said, puckering his lips at you.

You and JJ were never shy about being affectionate, sometimes to the point of grossing the other pogues out if you got a little too lost in it.

But you were proud of your relationship with JJ and weren't afraid to show everyone who he belonged to.

Especially when tourons or kooks would leer at him at parties.

It was nice to walk up to JJ and kiss him square on the mouth and watch those other girls' jaws drop when JJ practically turned into a puddle at your feet.

You pecked his lips.

"Just because you've been such a good boy," you said, giggling.

Kiara was practically asleep and Pope had taken off on a walk somewhere, so you allowed JJ to kiss you a little harder for a moment.

"If you two are gonna suck face, could you at least have the decency to do it inside the truck?" Kiara asked, eyes still closed.

You snorted, pulling away from JJ with a laugh.

JJ smirked. "If we did that, you might not want to get back in it later."

You laughed harder and Kiara made a disgusted face before kicking JJ with her foot.

The bliss wouldn't last.

As always, the pogues encountered a bump in their road.

More specifically, Pope's dad's truck's radiator blew and they had to one: get it towed, two: get it fixed, and three: find someplace to crash for the night.

Which ended up being an empty patch of grass where they could park the truck and sleep in the bed.

Thankfully, Pope's dad kept the thing practically stuffed with blankets and towels you could lay out for a…reasonably comfortable sleep.

It wasn't a memory foam mattress or anything, but it wasn't so bad.

You cuddled up to JJ, laying your head on his chest and he put an arm around you.

"Looks like it's slumming it for you and me again, huh?" JJ mumbled, sliding his cap over his eyes.

You hummed. "Well, anything's better than that time you convinced me to sleep in the tree by John B.'s house. I had bark marks for a week."

"Yeah, that was my bad," JJ admitted, smiling a little.

"Doesn't beat the hammock, though," you said.

JJ hummed.

The hammocks that hung around the trees of the chateau were your and JJ's favorite cuddle spot, where you snuck out to whenever you could.

No funny business could go on in them though, unless you wanted to end up face down in the dirt…which may or may not have happened a time or two.

…What? Sometimes the two of you just can't keep your hands to yourselves.

You yawned.

"Good night everyone," Pope said, lying down.

You and JJ shared a look as Kiara leaned over and kissed Pope on the cheek.

"Good night," she said.

You snuggled a little closer to JJ and he tucked you carefully in his arms before closing his eyes and letting sleep take him.

"Wonder where John B. and Sarah are right now," he said, before finally drifting off.

[transformers-spike]

Which bots do u think would be into somno? I feel like Megs kinda would but that's also a given. Mans a freak

All versions of Megs would be into it. Especially TFA. He gets a kick out of how you writhe in your sleep and how you respond to his touches. TFP is most likely to eat you out/suck you off during tho Otherwise TFA Bumblebee, but even with consent he feels soooooo guilty and embarrassed about it. Won't stop him from doing it again tho, lol Blitzwing's there, but surprisingly not because of Random (tho he's also into it), but because of his Icy personality. He thoroughly enjoys the power he holds over his partner during it, he loves having complete control over the situation TFP Shockwave would do it for "scientific" reasons (lies) And Knock Out too because he's a bastard and if he finds out you like the idea of it, oh he'll treat you just right

[mybelovedsylus]

Another day another smutty drabble. You know the drill, no minor interactions please. I’m a Sylus girlie who still quite enjoyed the unhinged Caleb - so I got to thinking. Sylus would definitely want to make sure Caleb knew that you were taken - granted a little OOC cause he likes these intimate moments to be private, but I couldn’t get the idea of him calling Caleb while fucking MC to prove a point… so well that’s what this shit is and that’s your warning. Hope you like it - not edited as always. I'm still working on my smut writing too so forgive me

_______________________________________________________________________________________

Sylus knew he was a possessive motherfucker. Of that he had no doubt, but if he did he knew for sure when he had your ankles draped loosely over his shoulder as your phone dialed next to your head on speakerphone.

"You can not be serious right now," you gasped, hands clutching against nothing as Sylus' evol kept them pinned to the bed. Couldn't have you hanging up prematurely now could we? Not when there was a point to be proven.

"Pipsqueak, what's up?"

Sylus sneered as soon as he picked up, like that wasn’t exactly what his intention was. He looked from the phone to you and raised an eyebrow, waiting for you to respond. As you opened your mouth, he slammed all the way home causing a moan to rip out of your throat, which you were quick to try and muffle by biting down hard on your lip. Sylus looked downright gleeful, the red of his eyes practically glowing.

"You okay over there?" Caleb's voice came through gentle but questioning.

"Ye-yeah, just stubbed my toe?" you gasped out but it sounded unsure. Well now that wouldn't do. Sylus leaned down, essentially folding your knees into your chest, which in turn pushed him even further into you which you couldn't help but groan at. His mouth latched on to your peaked nipple, flicking and tweaking it as his hand reached up to lavish the other with similar attention.

"You must have really stubbed it good, do you need me to bring dinner and some medical aid?" Caleb offers sweetly.

"NO!"

There's silence on the line and you glare as Sylus chokes back a laugh as he leans back, resuming a lazy pace and wiping the hair out of your eyes. The sweet gesture is a stark contrast to the debauchery happening here. Sylus is drawing it out, giving slow lazy thrusts that drag every vein and inch over your sensitive spots, dragging you closer and closer to that precipice. You need Caleb to hang the fuck up before that happens.

"I appreciate the - fuck - offer, but really I'll be okay."

You know it comes out like phone sex, airy and deep, but that's because it's like Sylus can read my mind and is trying to get me over the peak as quick as he can - like he wants Caleb to hear just what he does to me. This possessive motherfucker - but also what does that say about you that you find yourself getting wetter at the idea?

"Uh, okay, was that all you called to tell me? That you stubbed your toe, but otherwise you are fine?" Caleb asked. You could tell he didn't believe a word of what you were trying to sell.

"Mhm," you gasp out as Sylus draws tight circles over your clit, picking up the pace of his thrusts. You are starting to wonder if the slap of skin and the rough slide through your wetness is echoing on the phone like it is in your ears.

"Okay," he draws out, suspicion evident in his tone, "I'm just gonna let you go then."

It's too late though. Between the bruising and pistoning pace,and the flicking of your clit, there's not much you can do to hold it back. You try to bite your lip to hold the noises at bay, but Sylus pulls it free with his other hand. He holds your cheeks in a grasp that holds your mouth open, and you cry his name out as your vision goes white and everything in your body pulls taught with your orgasm. He laughs breathlessly, leaning down to suck at the skin of your neck. He turns his head slightly towards the phone, groaning out your name as his hips stutter and he meets you at the peak. He leans more deeply on you, keeping the two of you joined as he reaches over for the phone.

"Aw, looks like your “gege” hung up," he mutters, tossing your phone off the bed as he looks down at you with what you can only say is a boyish smile.

"You are such a possessive asshole, oh my god, how am I ever supposed to look him in the eye again?"

"You can protest all you want, but you were gushing- looks to me like my kitten might have a bit of an exhibitionist in her," Sylus responds with a sly grin, his hand giving a lazy tweak to your overabused clit that makes you jump. You try to pull away and he makes a tsk noise as he follows, ensuring he remains firmly within the snug confines of your walls.

"Where do you think you're going, when did I say I was done with you?"

[itshiaoszn]

I used to date a guy who during the first couple of dates would take me to expensive places and surprised me with Switch games that I wanted to get. But once we became an official couple things took a complete 180 and he was asking me to drive to his place because my house is too far, the traffic sucks etc., and whenever we spend the entire day together (lunch, movie and dinner) he would bring up how much he'd spent for the day, expressing how expensive it was. One time he told me that he thought of getting a bag of cookies for me, but forgot, as if I was supposed to return the affection simply because he thought about doing it. Also, he's never shown respect to my parents.

One day we were at the mall and Burberry was promoting one of their new line of handbags, they created a giant replica of their purse and I jokingly said "hey can you buy me that one." and he immediately responded with "No, I wouldn't even get one for myself, why would I buy it for you?", which I should've taken it as a sign that the relationship was over. Not because he refused to buy me a purse, but the implication that he will always put himself first and I will never be a priority. He was just dating me because it was convenient for him.

[tojimybelovedd]

Anatomy lesson!

Gojo x fem!reader ; mndi ; Nerdjo saves life!

Warning: masturbation f!receives ; fingering ; clit bullying ; kinda mirror sex ; dirty talk ; Nerdjo!!

"Aaand here, here is the clitoris, do you feel, sweet, how good it is?" Satoru's voice is calm, interested not so much in having a delicious pussy between his fingers but in teaching you your own anatomy. His fingers flick your clit, swollen and sore. And no, he hasn't even touched you yet, not really, but you're so wet, so needy, you've probably already had an orgasm.

That fucking nerd. If you could only form a sensible sentence, you would say that. With his chest resting on your back, his legs intertwined well with yours to keep them open and his fingers torturing your pussy, you don't miss the little smile that curves his lips. he's having so much fun torturing you, as if he wasn't even hard enough to hurt, his erection pressing into your back. "fu—uck Toru.. do-do something" you whine, causing Satoru to laugh.

But no, Satoru has to give you an anatomy lesson before he fingers you so hard you pass out, just like he promised. "Tch tch, crybaby" He says, pinching your clit in such a way that makes you moan so deliciously. "The lesson is not over. Be-Be patient"

ah-ah! did you hear that? Satoru is slowly breaking too, his voice faltering, his grip on your hip slightly tighter. "Who cares Toru! I can't take it anymore please—please" You hear him snorting at your whims. But hey, he's not the one being tortured, kept on edge.

or maybe yes?

The mirror in front of you shows your bodies intertwined, yours exposed but in a way that takes your breath away. You can see everything. From your rapidly rising and falling breasts, to your messy hair, to your open thighs, all the way down to your pussy. Shiny and plump, wetting Satoru's fingers, oh, it's such an erotic sight.

"Since you didn't pay attention in class, I'll have to punish you, right?" His voice tickles your neck, goosebumps covering your skin but you can't tell if it's his gaze, his touch or his words to make you feel this way. Maybe all three. "This naughty little pussy needs to be put in her place, don't you think?"

You don't have time to respond before the fingers that were teasing your clit are now inside your tight hole, disappearing inside you until only his knuckles remain outside. Oh fuck, fuck. Your eyes roll back, as your head rests on his shoulder.

But Satoru's other hand, previously busy holding your hip, grabs your chin bringing your gaze back to the reflection of the two of you in front of you and you see it. Your pussy split open by Satoru's fingers, sliding in and out with speed, the obscene sound of your fluids.

And you cry, because he's going at such a fast pace that your whole body is shaking, and you squirm, your back rubbing against his painfully hard cock, a grunt escaping his lips. "That's right sweet. feel my fingers that—that go so easily inside your tight little pussy"

"mh-mh let me hear those moans sweet, don't hold back. After all, your pussy isn't doing that, it's literally sucking my fingers! How cute!"

And it's at this moment, with the orgasm imminent and Satoru's mean fingers inside you, that you realize that giving the school nerd a chance was the best choice of your life.

oof!! first real nsfw fic!! i don't know how to feel tbh! Nerdjo is taking over my life🧎

uhh please leave some feedback so i know I don't really suck at writing!

i don't know y'all i got freaky ok? not my fault<3

[earlgreylatte]

Nothing to Declare

You and Mark try not to sync up your breakdowns.

Watching Mark solemnly gaze at his phone, his call with Amber cut because of the ship’s rising altitude, you shift, fiddling with your camera’s settings.

“It’s not too late to back out,” you suggest, “I should be fine to go on my own. Honestly, this might be overkill.”

“No way,” he immediately refutes, looking back at you, “I’m not letting you go to a planet that’s who knows where by yourself. And, honestly? You should still be resting. You can only now just eat solids—“

You press a hand to your abdomen. It’s been months now since your dad impaled you with his bare hand and took off. If you weren’t you, you’d be killed instantly.

You brought back into reality when Mark places a hand on your shoulder, “I just mean…you shouldn’t be pushing yourself back into work so soon. You’ve been going at it for years now.”

You grimace at the reminder, “I could say the same to you. You don’t need to put others before yourself all the time. You’re missing your first week of lectures, for god’s sake.”

“It’s fine, William will cover for me,” he shakes his head.

“You better take him flying when you get back.”

“I guess you’re right…”

“You guess?”

You and Mark take a seat as you see stars shine outside the ship’s windows.

The Thraxan piloting the ship, speaks up, “Are you comfortable, Mark Gray—sorry, Invincible, Singularity?”

“Very plush seats,” you compliment.

“Yeah, thanks,” Mark responds, sullenly. “How long until we get to Thraxa?”

“Approximately six of your Earth days!” The alien informs.

You eye your brother as he sighs and slumps into his seat. “Space sucks…”

You don’t disagree.

Mark shakes you awake, you try to batt your hand at him, “We’re here. Finally.”

Staring out the windows, you immediately notice the violet colour of the planet and its architecture, maybe you’ll take a picture or two. When the planetary threat was extinguished, of course.

Exiting the ship, you and Mark find yourselves surrounded by Thraxans starting at you two in awe, whispers of excitement filling the air. You take a picture. You can multitask.

“Uh, hi?” Mark offered.

Your alien guide, leans in, “Don’t mind them! The monarch wants to meet you at once!”

Mark steps forward first, into the direction of the purple palace at the centre of the city, cubic and with waterfalls. You snap another photo as two children duck under Mark’s arm, laughter filling the air as they eagerly try to take the lead.

For a planet on the cusp of supposed doom, they sure are cheerful.

“It’s certainly tranquil here,” you murmur.

“Wait, what exactly about this planet needs saving?” Mark questions, looking around. “What about the meteors?”

“Meteors? What meteors?”

You and Mark stop walking, and blankly stare at the Thraxan.

“The ones that are killing billions?”

“Ah, those meteors! Must be a touch of dementia, we age much quicker than you humans, you know! Don’t worry, the monarch will explain all!”

You and Mark exchange a look.

“Bro.”

Finally making your way in the Monarch’s abode, the outer-worldly architecture now filling up your camera’s gallery, you notice Mark softening at the serene aura encompassing your surroundings.

Approaching a grand and very red staircase, you observe what must be a throne like area above.

“Your Majesty,” the alien beckons making way for you, three Thraxans turning to look down at your party. “May I present Invincible and Singularity of Earth.”

You and Mark take a kneel, awkwardly lowering your heads in respect.

The Thraxans part, and your hear heavy footsteps sound against the floor. The ruler.

“Hello, kids,” A warm and agonizingly familiar voice greets.

Mark gasps and jolts up but you keep your head down for a second before slowly lifting your head up.

Your father, with his hand outstretched, smiles down at you two, “It’s been a while.”

“…Dad?”

You pull off your mask, letting it fell to the floor.

“Dad?” You call, as your brother clenches his fists next to you, breath shuttering, “Dad!”

You fly to embrace him, tears burning your eyes. He catches you, like he always does, strong arms wrapping around your form, bring a hand up to cradle your head that’s buried against his shoulder. You hear his heartbeat thump, slow and calm. You can almost pretend things are normal again.

“I…missed you two,” he admits.

Mark shouts your name, a thunder you’ve never heard in his voice before. The spectating Thraxans flinch, as Mark rips off his mask, approaching you with measured steps, grabbing you by the arm to pull you away and behind him as he stares down your father.

“This was all you? Bringing us here?” He grits out, “The Thraxans told us they needed help, but that was another one of your lies?”

“They do need your help,” your dad responds.

“Why?” He squeezes out, his grip on your arm tightening.

“It’s complicated. Come with me—“

“No, WHY did you lie to us again?” Your brother’s glare hardens, “You killed thousands of people. You nearly killed your own daughter after scaring her into silence! Who knows what else you did to her! You stuck a hand through her, like—-like she was nothing!”

You bite your lip, “Mark—“

“Why would you think we would ever want to see you again? That you would even deserve it. You called mom a pet,” his voice breaks.

“You broke her heart,” you whisper, backing away.

Your dad calls your names, “I need your help—“

Mark sighs, tired, before gesturing to the aliens standing behind your father, “And you made them lie to us?”

“Just listen—“

“I don’t need to listen to anything you say,” he retorts, turning away and pulling you with him.

“Look, I made a mistake. I thought about you two every day—“

“A mistake!?” Mark shouts, twisting around to face your father.

“Son—“

“No, you don’t get to call me that anymore!”

“What do you want me to say?” Your father looks defeated.

“You could have started with ‘I’m sorry’!”

A moment of silence passes over you.

“You know what? Don’t bother, alright? It wouldn’t mean anything anyways. I hope you like it here with your new friends,” Mark asserted, “Guess they don’t know you the way we do.”

You breathe out, “We can’t go back to how things were, dad. Not after everything.”

You follow Mark as he makes to leave, the latter glancing behind him.

“Fuck you.” Were his final words before you two took off into the sky.

You hear your father follow.

“You’ll never make it back on your own. It’s millions of miles, and you don’t know the way. Navigation was neither of yours strong suit. Come back, and we’ll talk,” your father explained, “Please.”

“And what are you going to do if we don’t? Knock out all my teeth again? Strand her in another planet with you to make a point?” he asks venomously, gesturing towards you before speeding up, you and your father following.

“I’ll get you a ship home, but there’s something you need to see first.” Your father bargains.

“No,” Mark refuses.

“Nol’Zak wasn’t lying to you, his people do need your help. Let me tell you why.”

“I don’t care.”

“I know that’s not true,” your father refutes.

“Mark,” you speak up, “If we leave now, we could risk being stranded for years or even forever without a way home. Let’s just help this planet and we can go home.”

Your brother slows to a stop with you, “Five minutes. For them, not you.”

He descends back down. You and your father hover for a moment.

“Dad,” you speak up, “If you try to do anything to Mark, I won’t hesitate this time.”

“I know.”

“So, you conquered this place, instead of Earth?” Mark notes.

“I didn’t conquer this planet, the Thraxans asked me to be their emperor.” Your father rebuffs, leading you through the palace halls before stopping at a door.

“Conqueror, emperor, what’s the difference?” Your brother mumbles.

“Consent, I guess?” You answer as you three enter a pastel coloured room, a lone female Thraxan standing within.

You and Mark watch in horror as your father… tongues her. You tried to step out of the room, but your back meets the door that closed automatically, the traitor.

The Thraxan turns to warmly greet you two, your father’s arm on her waist, oblivious to the looks on your faces, “Welcome to our home, my husband’s told me so much about you two.”

“Andressa,” your father near chides.

“What the fuck is going on,” Mark whispers, a second away from bursting.

With your back still against the door, you slowly slide down until you’re sitting on your knees.

“Did I mispeak?” Your stepmother asks as your father silently gestures for her to give you some space.

“I know this comes as a surprise—“

Your brother immediately interrupts him, “No shit, we’re surprised! What about mom?”

“I can’t go back to Earth, Mark. Not ever. That life is over.”

You and Mark stare at him, hurt, before your brother scoffs, “Alright, you’re all done with Earth. Super glad you got to show us how great your life is without us!”

You rise to your feet, “She’s still mourning you, beating herself up for not seeing you for what you really are, and you just—start over?”

You shake your head before moving a hand against the door to try to open it, Mark following behind you.

“That’s not what I wanted to show you.”

You bump your head against the door. “Fucking seriously…”

Mark whips around, “What else could you possibly mean—“

Nothing could prepare you for the sight of your dad holding a purple, but very human—-no, Viltrumite looking baby, his wife proudly at his side.

“Who is that?” Mark asks, denial etched on his face as you slowly raise your camera.

“This is your little brother,” your father introduces.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me!” Your brother explodes as your shutter goes off, before turning to you, “Sis, what the fuck!?”

“Instinct,” you say, a little shellshocked, blankly staring at the trio in front of you.

You stare as your…new little brother coos, cradled to his mother’s chest. Mark continues to berate your father, who explains that Thraxans ages faster than humans, which is why he’s so big for what should be a newborn.

Mark shakes your shoulder before pointing at your dad, “Are you even paying attention!? He literally—-with a grasshopper! Say something!”

“He kinda looks like you,” you observe, “When you were that young.”

He stares at you incredulously.

Debbie: Who’s the father!?

Singularity, holding baby Oliver: The better question is ‘who’s the mother?’

Debbie: Oh, honey, I’ve always known—

Singularity: Excuse me?

Mark: Yeah, things are looking up, I think.

*

Donald: The Graysons are back on Earth, but Singularity seems to have a purple baby??

Cecil: The kid has a kid now? They’ve only been gone for two months!

Donald: That’s what Debbie seems to be saying right now, at least. Well, we don’t have any information on how pregnancy works for female Viltrumites—

Cecil: Listen in!

*

Mark: I can’t believe the last thing he says to us is to read his books—

Singularity: Huh?

Mark: You were passed out, and what books??

Singularity: …is Space Rider real?

*

Singularity: If anything happens to this baby, I will actually end it

*

Mark: You got a lot of nice photos when we weren’t being beaten to death.

Singularity: Yeah, I’ll probably get a decent amount for them, Thraxa is a pretty place.

Mark: What are you going to tell them when they ask where the photos are from?

Singularity: That’s the neat thing; I won’t.

Mark:

Lol, Singularity took a family photo for Nolan, instinct from doing baby showers and family photos as a freelancer…

Yes, we do see some canon divergence here with Mark being abrasive with Omni-man from the start! He literally saw his dad stick a hand through his sister’s stomach and then found out their dynamic was a lot more harmful than he could have ever known! Mark seems to hold Nolan’s actions towards others against him more than his own pain.

And, have you noticed a pattern where sometimes the eldest child will be the nicest/most forgiving to bad parents while the younger one is more unhinged? I’m the younger sibling hehe

I would describe Mark’s weakness to be his inexperience while Singularity’s weakness is because of her experience, being unable to handle violence and responsibility, starting out as a hero at such a young age. If she were a computer, she’d have really good hardware that could run Elden Ring without overheating but software from the 2000s.

Masterlist, Series Masterlist

[woozinhos]

DOES ANYONE ELSE GET MUNCH VIBES FROM JUN..... NOT JUST BECAUSE OF EFT BUT HEAR ME OUTTTTTTTT DOES HE NOT SEEM LIKE. PROUD MUNCH. congrats to mrs wen (me)🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉

Notes: hes so a munch god he’d be so skilled dont even!

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.

You're on your knees in front of Jun, his strong hands gripping your hips as he pushes you down onto the bed. He looks at you with a mix of hunger and adoration, his eyes dark with desire.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs, running his hands up your thighs. "I've been thinking about this all day." He pushes your legs apart, exposing you to him completely. He leans in, his breath hot against your skin as he begins to kiss and bite your inner thighs.

"I'm going to make you feel so good," he promises, his voice low and sultry. Jun continues to kiss and nibble your thighs, his lips leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses in their wake. He moves closer and closer to your core, his tongue occasionally flicking out to taste you.

"You're so wet for me," he groans, his eyes locked on your face. "I can smell how badly you want me." He finally reaches your core, his tongue darting out to lick a long stripe up your slit. He moans at the taste of you, his hands gripping your thighs tighter as he starts to devour you.

"You taste amazing," he growls, his tongue swirling around your clit. "I could do this all day."

"Oh god, Jun," you moan, your hands fisting in the sheets. "Don't stop, please don't stop." Jun smirks against you, clearly enjoying the effect he's having on you. He pushes his tongue inside you, his nose rubbing against your clit as he starts to eat you out in earnest. Jun is skilled indeed, his tongue working magic on your sensitive flesh. He knows just where to touch, just how to flick his tongue to drive you crazy with pleasure. He looks up at you through his lashes, his eyes burning with intensity as he watches you fall apart under his ministrations. Jun continues to eat you out, his pace relentless. He adds a finger to the mix, pumping it in and out of you in time with the movements of his tongue.

"You're so tight," he murmurs against your skin. "I can't wait to feel you cum on my face." Jun groans as you pull his hair, the sound sending vibrations through your body. He looks up at you again, his eyes dark with desire and his lips slick with your juices.

"Pull harder," he demands, his voice rough with need. "I want you to use me." You oblige, tugging harder on his hair and grinding your hips against his face. Jun responds by doubling his efforts, his tongue working your clit faster and harder as he adds another finger to stretch you out.

"You're so needy," he growls, his fingers curling inside you. "You're going to come for me, aren't you? You're going to come all over my face like a good girl." You can feel your orgasm building, your body trembling with the force of it. Jun senses that you're close and redoubles his efforts, sucking your clit into his mouth and pushing his fingers deeper inside you.

"That's it," he urges. "Let go for me. I want to taste you." You come hard, your body arching off the bed as you cry out Jun's name. He keeps his mouth on you, lapping up every drop of your release as you ride out your orgasm. When you finally come down from your high, he pulls back and looks up at you with a satisfied grin. "Good girl," he says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "You taste so sweet." Jun crawls up your body, his lips finding yours in a heated kiss. You can taste yourself on his tongue as he kisses you deeply, his hands roaming over your skin.

"I need you," he murmurs against your lips. "I need to be inside you."

[neonpaperlanterns]

Hello! Could I request another Dog Day x reader smut?

Just like the last request it’s mainly bodily worship this time dog day is doing it, payment for last time. And because the reader had a long day at work. Upon worshiping though a new discovery about the readers affections is revealed alongside dog days…leads to steamy action.

Again romantic language/love confessions (loved how you did it last time), both nobs to the whole process, dogday being unintentional hot to the reader, and the reader makes dog day more horny then it first seems. (He admits it after the deed is done). Also these two try to be quiet…both aren’t especially dog day.

Bonus: Kissy Missy and Poppy act as if they didn’t hear anything yet they definitely knew what happened! Excellent job on the last request btw!

[A/n: MINORS DO NOT ENTER, 18+ I'm sorry this took so long and also I've never written smut before. This is probably terrible but I hope you enjoy it either way. Also Thank you, I'm glad you like my writing.]

[All of you]

Can I?

DogDay could hear as the shower turned on. The pipes groaning to life as you washed away the day. He was trying not to listen but he could focus on nothing else. The bed creaked underneath his weight as he fidgeted. Unable to stay still as he waited for you.

He wrung his hands together as his foot tapped against the plush carpet. You never took overly long showers but today he sort of wished you would. DogDay needed more time to prepare himself. 

He didn’t understand how you just did things. How you could just adapt and roll with whatever came your way. It was a stark contrast to him and how he sat here jittery, wishing he had just a little more time.

“Penny for your thoughts?” The sound of your voice made him jump. Fumbling to turn around he ended up slipping half off the bed. His arms outstretched as he fisted the comforter.

“You okay DD?” A smile was spreading across your face as you toweled off your hair. He nodded a bit dumbly as he worried the fabric between his fingers. Words caught in his throat as he watched you. There was still a subtle tension in your shoulders and he wanted to help you but his mouth felt full of cotton.

“Are you sure everything is okay?” Your mouth was set in a small pout as you eyed him. Dropping your hair towel you climbed onto the bed, gaze soft yet suspicious.

“Because if something is wrong you shoul-” DogDay cut you off by grabbing your ankle and dragging you closer. A small oomph sound left you as your back bounced against the mattress. Fixing his gaze down he rubbed circles into your skin, he couldn’t bring himself to look up at you.

Not yet anyways.

“Nothin’s wrong.” He tried to sound casual but he was anything but.

“Then what’s up?” You inquired, your patience was never ending. Swallowing around the lump in his throat he tentatively peeked up at you. DogDay could feel heat crawling up his chest as he swallowed again, his throat suddenly very dry.

“I was…” He trailed off, averting his gaze once more. “Would it be okay if I….” He let his hand slowly rise up to run along the underside of your calf. “I wanna do for you what you did for me.” He spoke barely above a whisper.

“Oh!” Your voice was pitched a bit higher as what sounded like a nervous laugh left you. 

“Would that be okay?” Alright it’s out there, he did it. He heard you suck in a breath as your other foot bounced against the bed.

“Are you sure?” A low laugh left him at your question. Shouldn’t he be the one asking that?

“Yes I’m sure.” He thinks this is the first time he was reassuring you. Looking up at you he watches your face as he carefully places a chaste kiss to the top of your foot. Your skin is still warm from the shower as he tentatively moves his mouth upward. He can feel the muscles in your legs tense as he passes over your knee. 

“Are you doing okay?” He asks against the inside of your thigh and you respond with a thin yes. Your cheeks are colored a dark crimson as he moves to the other leg. Feeling a bit emboldened by your flustered expression he plants a kiss on the juncture of your hip. An airy gasp leaves you as your back arches off of the bed. 

DogDay stalls, mouth hovering above the band of your sleep shorts. There is silence for a moment as he flicks he gaze up towards you. Something hot slithers down his spine as he eyes meet yours. Your pupils are dilated as you gesture for him to continue. Your shirt bunches up as he traces along the dip in your waist. He can feel little tremors running along your back as he moves his hands to knead at the skin of your thighs. 

“You’re so soft. You know that.” He mutters against your ribs. He can feel as your hand comes up, nimble fingers run along the back of his neck. It makes him shiver as he turns, placing a kiss on your forearm. DogDay can hear how hard your heart is beating as he nuzzles along your chest. He knew you made his heart beat this hard, he had no idea he did the same. 

“I love you.” It came out breathy as he mouthed along your exposed shoulder. “So much. I don’t know what I would do without you.” Squeezing the back of your thighs had your back arching into his chest, the originally loose grip you had on him tightening. 

“Kiss?” You asked so sweetly as your head reached up, lips slightly pursed and DogDay would never dream to refuse you. Leaning down he slotted his mouth against yours. A low sigh left you as you seemed to just melt into him. It made something hot pool in his stomach and he couldn’t help but hold you tighter against him.

Hands fumbled along warm skin, pushing and pulling at fabric exposing more to inexperienced trembling fingers. Adoration and arousal swirled in his mind as you met his every caress with one of your own. He wanted to keep going, the way you moved against him made it hard to think of anything else yet he needed to know if this was actually okay.

“Is this alright?” DogDay pulled away as he brushed along the now naked dip of your hip. “Do you want to sleep with me? Because I really want to sleep with you but only if you want to.” Doubt crept along the edges of his mind but was immediately swept away in the wake of your smile, it was a gentle thing overflowing with love as you propped yourself up.

“Yes.” You pecked him on the nose as you wiggled out from under him. “You have no idea how much I want this. How much I want you.” Your confession had him reeling and his mouth going dry as you slipped out of your clothes. 

This was happening. 

This was really happening.

Feeling bolder than he really was, DogDay grabbed for you. Hands wrapped around your thighs as you met in the middle. Lips collided as he rolled his hips against yours. It sent a shudder running along his spine and he pressed closer, needing to feel as much of you as possible. Your hands pawed at him, gently but insistently as he did his best to work you open. He was shaking so bad he thought he was going to mess up but the pleased mewls that were falling from your kiss swollen lips were helping to alleviate his nerves. 

“DogDay~” You moaned out his name and he couldn’t take this anymore. Propping himself up he fumbled as he lined himself up with your entrance. Breathing heavily he made eye contact with your heavily lidded gaze. A cheeky lazy grin spread across your face as you wiggled your hips at him. 

“You have no idea what you do to me.” And before you could respond DogDay thrust his hips forward. You moaned in unison as he slowly sunk into your heat.

“You’re so warm inside.” He panted. “And soft. How are you so soft everywhere?” He groaned, pushing a miniscule amount further into you. Your mouth opened as if you were going to say something but he wasn’t done yet, he had so much more he wanted to say. Angling his hips he thrust forward, he wasn’t entirely sure what he did but it had you throwing your head back and a beautifully loud moan escaping you.

“God Angel I love you so much.” He dug his thumbs into your hips. “You’re so wonderful and perfect.” Your arms reached up, lips pursing again as you silently asked for a kiss. 

“Not yet Angel.” you let out a whine and it almost broke him. “I know, I know. I’m sorry but ah~” DogDay gasped as you locked your legs around his waist, forcing him deeper. 

“Please?” You pet along his shoulders and really he couldn’t say no to you. DogDay would never get tired of kissing you. He never wanted to come up for air, he wanted to stay like this forever. “Harder, please~” you push your hips up to meet his thrusts. “I promise I won't break.” You say between kisses and it had him groaned. Moving his hands he shoves one under your shoulders as he plants the other beside your head.

He would do anything you wanted. 

Your nails bite into his skin as they drag down his back and you’re chanting his name like a prayer, telling him how much you love him, how good he is making you feel. It has his hips stuttering and his rhythm becoming sloppy. Your walls flutter around him as he grinds down. You nip at his ear and he grits his teeth, trying and failing not to finish. But his climax washed over him in shuddering waves, his hips didn't stop though. He can’t, not until you feel as good as he does. 

Shivers rack down his back as he feels overly sensitive but he doesn’t stop until he feels you clamp down around him. Your body goes tense as you pull him down, moaning into his mouth as you reach your peak. 

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” 

In the morning after you have untangled yourself, you drag him into the shower. It’s a tight squeeze, the space not made for him but you insist on having him here. On gently gliding the washcloth over him and mumbling sweet nothings against the now clean fur. It makes heat pool in his stomach again and he reaches for you, intent on returning the affection but there is a knocking at the door. 

It’s Poppy, her and Kissy are hungry and while DogDay is tempted to pretend he didn’t hear them because you are pressed so tight and warm against him, he knows he can’t. 

When you both emerge from the bathroom he notes that both of the girls are not, not looking at either of you. You don’t seem to notice their not looks and go about making breakfast. Humming something you heard on the radio as you whisk the eggs together and that’s when Poppy leans over, giving him a pat on the leg and a thumbs up. Embarrassment burns hot across his face as he sinks down into the chair. He should have let them go hungry.

[spursdontplaybasketball]

Random ask! 🫶 How did you get into supporting Tottenham?

Thank you for asking! 💫

I initially watched soccer in the 2014 World Cup; I got really into watching as many of the games as I could at cafes and other places that were showing it in San Francisco where I lived at the time, and I had just moved into my own place and I was having a bit of trouble adjusting, so it was something cool to throw myself into. The first match I watched was Brazil-Mexico, and I loved the goalkeeping, especially Memo Ochoa. But at that point, after the World Cup was over, I kinda let it fall by the wayside for a bit.

Then in mid-2016, I moved to Pittsburgh because San Francisco was too expensive and I had also found a school I wanted to go to to finish my bachelor's degree. I joined the school rugby team just for the hell of it, even though I'm terrible at sports. I became pretty good friends with a few of the guys from the team, one of whom supported Tottenham. It was my first time hearing of Spurs, but I was intrigued.

The next spring (2017) I was having lunch with him and another rugby buddy. The other guy said that he had been thinking of getting into watching Premier League, and I thought it sounded fun too. My buddy and I both decided to look into what teams we liked. If Ochoa had been in prem, I would have probably just supported his team. I was already kinda feeling a draw towards Spurs because of the first friend, but I did look around at other teams.

Having previously been fascinated by goalkeeping, I wanted a team with a good keeper. I found a list where someone had ranked each team's goalkeeper throughout the 2016/17 season, which was coming to an end soon. The #1 ranking was De Gea, but I felt like going with United would kinda make me seem like a poser (and there were also a lot of rumors going around at the time that he was going to be transferring to Real Madrid). Not only was Lloris ranked #2 on the list, but thinking back, I feel like I was always going to end up with Spurs somehow in any case.

I started watching at the very end of the season, just the last 2 matches. I went in with Lloris as my favorite player, but the first match I ever watched, Sonny scored his 20th (and 21st) goal of the season and was so excited and enthusiastic about it that he immediately won my heart. Even though I was a bit confused because the only stream I could pull up that was working was in Spanish.

I just was stuck in after that. The next season I started going out to watch with my local supporters club, and I've been going as much as I can basically ever since.

[sanasanakun]

People try too hard to make Curly an active participant in Jimmy's abuse. Isn't the whole point that he's passive in everything Jimmy does? Abuse occurs because he actively doesn't do anything? Not to call someone out or be mean, but I saw a post saying Anya's ID being in Curly's locker at the beginning shows that he intended to prevent Anya from filing an HR report and I disagree. I get where that interpretation is coming from, but I think it's a little uncharitable. I don't like being too kind to Curly because he's like...a morally mid dude at best lol But if we're going by the HR report interpretation, I would say it's more likely he requested Anya's ID in order to file an HR report on her behalf. After all, the only way to contact Pony (that we see) is in the cockpit, he's the Captain, and Pony Express sucks bad so I wouldn't put it past them to only allow the Captain to use the communication device thing. As we see before, Curly is the only one able to use tools around the ship that you would think other employees could use (ex. Swansea should be able to use the axe if he's the repair guy. Idk why they'd need an ax but that falls under manual labor which Swansea is designated for as the mechanic/fixer dude. But it has to go through Curly). I never got the vibe that Curly moved to actively protect Jimmy. He just lets things happen without say a word; Jimmy walks all over him, and by extension, the whole crew. I get why people would think that because he gives the whole "Hey Jimmy, we can get through this together, bud" spiel right before the crash. This part interests me a lot because there's so many ways to interpret Curly's intentions there. My interpretation is that Curly is on autopilot mode. The responses seem so stilted in comparison to Jimmy's. Like it's the kind of thing Curly's said before again and again and again when Jimmy's gotten in trouble. However, as others previously pointed out, I don't think Curly ever dealt with Jimmy doing something this irredeemable. He doesn't know how to respond, so he just goes for the default "You've gotten through tough situations before. Work through it one step at a time." Like the response is lame af lol I think he was in shock; he was scared (and just so I can say it one more time: he's super lame).

Anyway, this is way longer than I intended and I've said things a billion people have already stated. But uhhh tldr the whole point of Curly's character is he's passive; he never acts. He just watches. Making him an active participant in the abuse by taking actions to cover for Jimmy (like preventing Anya from filing an HR report) defeats the purpose of his character. He's a bystander.

[vaguely-concerned]

in his and davrin's banters, lucanis exhibits a certain little shit energy I don't think we see him have with anyone else other than illario and honestly I am living for this