#or they just can't remember what they're doing

[ihaveatypeanditstrickstergods]

I work at a public library with a large computer lab and let me tell you, it's not just your mom. I swear everybody suddenly forgets all relevant words and how to follow directions when someone is helping them with technology. I can be pointing directly at the tab they need on the browser and they'll go up to the x button to close the whole window.

why does my mother suddenly fail kindergarten whenever she tries to do anything on the computer

[qqueenofhades]

Okay all -- few quick thoughts about the Elon Muskifying of the government, especially the takeover of the Treasury and associated financial data for every single US citizen and organization, that we are learning about in detail today.

Don't panic. This sounds bad, because it is bad. It's really, really bad. It's outrageously fascist bad. But we've still gotta take a deep breath and get through it.

This is the kind of shock-and-awe exercise of untrammeled fascist power where they are absolutely counting on gleefully terrorizing, paralyzing, and stunning you into mounting no resistance, or just giving up and giving in. They are literally live-tweeting it in real time and boasting about all the access and influence they have right now. They want you to know about it and feel like you can't do anything, so you might as well let it happen.

We have to show them that's not true.

TIME TO MAKE SOME NOISE. Because it's Sunday night, I've gone ahead and contacted my state Attorney General and both senators by email (but come Monday morning, we should all be calling). Here is the email that I wrote to my AG:

Dear Mr. [AG],

As you will be aware, today (February 2, 2025) the Trump administration has granted wide-ranging access to sensitive US Treasury data, including the personal and private information of [state] citizens, to Elon Musk's so-called "Department of Government Efficiency." Musk is an unelected private citizen who has no legal right to access this data, and is engaging in extensive intimidation and coercion to fulfill his personal and harmful ideological agenda. The present and material harm that this causes to US citizens, [state] residents, and basic laws of government, privacy, and financial security is direct, unconscionable, and actionable. I strongly urge you, in your capacity as [state] Attorney General, to file direct suit against the Trump administration, Elon Musk, the "DOGE" office, and any identifiable individuals who have taken part in this action, in order to protect consumer data, citizen privacy, and basic faith and trust in government.

All the best,

[Qqueenofhades]

Short! To the point! Doesn't waste time, tells him what I want him to do, how Elmo's nonsense directly harms the residents of my state, and why he should take action to stop it! And frankly, given how on-the-ball blue-state AGs have been thus far, they're probably already working on it. You are very welcome to copy-and-paste this message and fill in your AG's last name and your state as appropriate. Super easy to do. Takes five minutes. Call tomorrow.

If you are in a red state, your voice is particularly important right now. The Trumpsters are counting on and are even emboldened by blue state pushback, but you really need to make it start coming from Republican strongholds. Congressional Republicans will only feel the slightest amount of unease about docilely enabling this BS when it starts threatening their own personal power. Hit them where it hurts.

Other lawsuits are coming. Marc Elias, Democratic lawyer extraordinaire, is well aware of this situation and has noted on Bluesky that more lawsuits are in the works. He often wins his cases. This does not mean that you shouldn't loudly make noise elsewhere, but please remember that this is one of those 24-hour periods where, as noted, they are counting on demoralizing you with a nonstop blizzard of bullshit. It does not say anything about how this will play out long-term or the opposition that can and will be mobilized to stop it.

Once again: courage. Take the small steps that you can do today. Then take a breath and get off social media for a little while. Try to take the long view. One step at a time, we will get through this.

Courage.

[tarotbyjam24]

messages from your future spouse

Likes , reblogs and feedbacks are very much appreciated 💗

Masterlist \pick a cards

Disclaimer: This is general reading . It may or may not resonate . If reading doesn't resonate let it fly and choose another pile or simply there were no messages for you through this reading 😊 Take the reading lightly as nothing's set in stone until you believe so🕊️

Thankyou for stopping by let's dive in ☄️,shall we ? Choose the pile you feel most drawn to 🧸

Pile 1

Anyone who takes the time to be kind is beautiful .

Some people don't change no matter how hard you try.

But we can not simply sit and stare at our wonds forever .

You spread joy because you're joy that's what I admire most about you .

First love teaches us what love isn't .

It's better to feel the hurt of honesty then to live in a false comfort of lie .

The secret of life is to be obsessed with yourself and be kind to everyone around you.

Some days are just heavy .

Everything you lost will be replaced with something better.

Imagine being loved the way you love .

Pile 2

You haven't met the best version of yourself yet don't give up

when you choose yourself everything around you will choose you too

remember you can start again over and over as often as you need

people don't cry because they're weak it's because they've been strong for too long

the little things ? little moments ? they aren't little

perhaps we should learn to love ourselves so loudly , it silences our insecurities

I love seeing you happy

it happened so that you could grow

you will forever be my always

do it for your future self

Pile 3

You can't go back and change the beginning but you can start where you're and change the ending

expect nothing appreciate everything

you can also comit injustice by doing nothing

be patient. Sometimes you've to go through the worst to get best

how many time can the same thing break your heart ? As long as you love it

find joy in simple things life will always be fulfilling

In the end, I realized the hurt never turned to hate. No matter how much my emotions led me to feel so. I never stopped loving people. I stopped trusting them.

The art of observing and not absorbing

Not liking me is fine, but making up lies to destroy my character is weird.

Keep it private until you know it's permanent

Imagine being loved the way you love .

Pile 4

First love teaches us what love isn't .

Discipline is the strongest form of self love .

She's an old soul with young eyes, a vintage heart, and a beautiful mind

people talk about me behind my back and i just sit here like damn i got myself a fan club

It takes grace to remain kind in cruel situations .

Forgive yourself for the mask you wore when you didn't feel safe enough to be yourself

YOU DON'T NEED EVERYONE TO love you, JUST A FEW GOOD PEOPLE

may every hour in your soul be golden, may it be filled with endless magic .

Vibes to carry through out the week

You're not sensitive. You're not overreacting. If it hurts you, it hurts you. Don't let anyone invalidate your feelings. Ever

I hope you liked the reading . Thank you so much for letting me read for you . Wishing you best ahead . 🎀 Bless you and have a nice day 🫶🏻

Loads of love , jam\gem

Exchanges : open , collabs for paps : open

[babyangelsky]

I love that Phu was wearing his teddy bear pajamas when he got blown by Cir

And I love it specifically because it flies in the face of a rather unfortunate trend that's always been present but that has been on my mind a lot lately.

A couple of months ago, I came across a post that referred to Teerak from Your Sky as "basically a child" and went in on the show for portraying him in any sort of sexual light and then went in on Muenfah and criticized him for wanting to do anything remotely sexual with Teerak and just—

No. NO. NO!

Listen, I don't give a fuck how someone interprets a character even if I disagree on every possible level. Art is subjective. How someone sees the art they consume and what they get out of it is none of my fucking business.

But there's this awful tendency to conflate cuteness with immaturity and to infantilize any character that exhibits any traits or preferences that can be read as cute. Hell, sometimes even a character's appearance is all it takes for them to be infantilized.

And it's always the same shit. If a character is shy, soft-spoken, bubbly, cheerful, or sweet, they're seen as a child. If they have plushies and enjoy lots of color, they're seen as a child. Act cute? Child. Like cute things? Child. Shorter than their love interest? Child. Younger than their love interest? Child.

Fucking STOP.

The person who made the post I referred to used a screenshot of Teerak hugging his Snoopy plush to somehow justify their interpretation and you know what? LIKING PLUSHIES AND CUTE THINGS DOES NOT MAKE SOMEONE """"BASICALLY A CHILD"""".

Whether or not a character (or a real actual person) likes cute things or happens to be sweet and soft-spoken and shy has nothing to do with how mature they are and it certainly says nothing about their sexuality and sexual desires. I turn 31 years old in just over a week and there are plushies on my bed. I put hearts all over my blog. Liking cute things just means you like cute things! That's all!

Teerak is adorable and colorful and sweet, and he's also a young man who's deliriously in love and HORNY for his boyfriend. He ALWAYS wanted to fuck that man and if he hesitated at first, it was due only to his lack of experience. Nothing else.

Which is partly why this scene:

Was so fucking great to watch. Not just because Teerak wanted to fuck his boyfriend and made his intent crystal clear and took the initiative, but because he was allowed to by the story. @iguessitsjustme wrote a great post about it, go give it a read.

More and more we're seeing BL's where both characters (THE CUTE ONES INCLUDED) are allowed and shown to want each other sexually and it's been amazing to see. Mutual horniness will never not be amazing to see.

Allll of that is why I love that Phukan was in his teddy bear pajamas in his love scene with Cir. Because like Teerak, Phukan is exactly the type of character that gets infantilized and that people get all pearl-clutchy about when he's portrayed doing anything sexual.

Phu is adorable and colorful and he likes being babied and he collects those cute little trinket things I can't remember the name of and he ALSO REALLY WANTS TO FUCK CIRRUS. To quote @poetry-protest-pornography , he was an active and enthusiastic participant in his first blowjob and that's exactly as it should be regardless of what he's wearing or what he likes! He's a full person with a functioning libido and I'm so happy and grateful that the story isn't infantilizing him.

TL;DR, some of ya'll have got to let go of the notion that a character being/acting cute and them experiencing sexual desire are mutually exclusive.

[un-fwuit-un-fwog]

Fine. One more night.

After Azul's overblot everyone was exhausted. When you finally stumbled out of Octavinelle's portal the sun has already set beneath the horizon.

Leona and the other Savanaclaw boys walked out of the portal behind you in similar states of exhaustion. Seeing them caused you to remember you had still had to grab your stuff from their dorm before heading off to Ramshackle. After that you would likely have to spend around 10 minutes trying to get the front door unlocked and open, check the old dorm to make sure it hadn't deteriorated to the point it would collapse on yours and Grim's heads as you slept, make sure nobody broke into the dorm in your time away (they'd have nothing to steal, but you've caught students more than once trying to vandalize the place), and then the ghosts would likely hound you with questions as to what had happened. You weren't going to get any sleep tonight.

You groaned and ran your hands over your tired face.

Leona noticed this action and looked at you suspiciously. "What now," he asked against his own best judgement. Whatever it was would probably cause trouble for him, but he asked before he could stop himself.

"I still have to grab our stuff from Savanaclaw before heading back to Ramshackle. And when we get there. . ." you sighed and rubbed your face again "so much to do. Not gonna get any sleep."

Without another word, you and Grim hobbled through Savanaclaw's mirror. Once the two of you were gone Jack and Ruggie both looked over towards Leona.

"What?" He tried to snap, but he was to tired to put any real bite in his words.

"Surely. . .one more night wouldn't hurt. . ." Jack mumbled.

"Could get 'em to cook breakfast again in the morning." Ruggie hummed. "They're a pretty killer cook."

Leona just stared at the two like they each had grown another head. "You're kiddin'. After the Ruckas they caused last night?"

"They were just trying to convince you to help! They'd have no reason to do that again tonight." Jack immediately piped up.

"It's not like ya had any troubly sleeping the other couple of nights they were here," Ruggie snickered. "If I didn't know any better, I'd even say ya slept better."

The two watch as Leona growl before walking to the Savanaclaw mirror with a huff.

In Leona's room, you'd just finished getting yours and Grims stuff packed up. Grim hadn't been much help, having fallen asleep on a plush chair the moment you stepped foot in the room.

You were about to wake him when a grumpy Leona came stomping through the door. Assuming he was angry at the two of you for still being there you began to apologize: "Sorry, Leona. I just finished packing out stuff and I was just about to wake Grim so we could-"

Before you could finish your sentence he cut you off "You're staying here tonight."

". . .wha-?"

"I said you're staying here tonight! It's dark out and you're already here, so you're staying here tonight. I don't need the two of you getting into trouble on your way home that becomes my problem in the morning," he grumbles.

"Why would any trouble we get in become your-"

"Do you wanna stay here tonight or not?" Leona's tone is harsh, but his posture is relaxed as always, and his face is just a hair softer than usual.

"Uhm. . .yeah. Thanks." You stumble a bit, shocked by his words, but eventually manage to respond. When you do he simply huffs and flops onto his bed.

You hurry to unfold the futon in the area next to Grim's chair so as to not make him keep the lights on any longer. After draping a blanket over the sleeping Grim, you toss the pillow and blanket you had been using the past few night onto the futon and crawl onto it.

Leona finally shuts off the lights (not that he was waiting for you or anything) and the room falls into darkness. The only light comes from the moon shining through the openings in the wall next to Leona's bed.

Several minutes pass in silence before Leona speaks: "Whatever you have to say just say it so I can get to sleep. I can't relax with you staring me down like that."

"It's. . .It's nothing."

You're about to close your eyes and pull the blanket over your head so you can wallow in your embarrassment when you hear a click. You slowly turn over to see the lamp next to Leona's bed has been turned on and he's staring at you with an expression that reads 'don't play with me right now."

You sigh and sit up. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me. I already told you my reasons for letting you stay here tonight." He grumbles, reaching to turn off the lamp again.

"No! I-I mean. . .for that too, but what I meant was: thank you for letting us stay here and for helping us with the overblot. I know you didn't have to, and I appreciate it. It may sound dramatic, but you really did risk your life to help us today. . .thank you."

The room falls into silence again before you hear Leona's laugh ring through the space. You look up in surprise.

"It almost sounds like I'm a good person when you put it like that."

Another moment of silence.

"You're not?"

He looks at you like you're crazy before clicking the light back off.

You both shuffle back into comfortable positions. You aren't sure if you were simply imagining things from exhaustion, but you could have sworn you heard a mumbled "Thanks to you too" from across the room before you drifted off to the land of dreams.

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[acerikus]

I wonder what it's like, for everyone who still lives on the island north of vaugarde. If it's still there, if there's still people there, if it's still within their time, what's like over there at this point?

If people who leave the island Forget and have no way of going home, it stands to reason that they've been completely isolated from the outside world. No way for outside news to get to them, anyone who leaves never returns... Do you think there's STILL people washing up from there even in isat's point in the timeline? More people going through what the king went through as an adult, as Siffrin did as a teen?

If people from the island can't make their way back home, I guess that would mean from their perspective, anyone who leaves the island doesn't return, and nobody visits From The Outside any more, either.

What would they think of that? Would it feel like the world is crumbling, ending, that the island is the last bastion of safety? Leaving the island is dangerous. Leaving the island means you'll never be seen again. Fishing boats don't dare stray too far. They've probably sent it search parties for missing children, before. None ever come back.

Does the daydreaming one's sister know that her family is okay, or does she assume the worst? Has the rest of the world fallen, or at least everything by these waters? Is wish craft the only thing keeping them safe?

... Does anybody know about the wish that left the island in this state? Do they, in fact, know the rest of the world is fine, while the island is essentially sealed off forever for whatever reason? Did they do it for a reason, or is there someone out there who knows they're responsible, knows the truth, someone who burns with guilt as the rest of the island continues to wonder?

Just what does life look like there now, in a country nobody is ever allowed to remember?

[bittersweet-jack-of-no-trades]

Stan gives the Mystery Shack to Soos, Ford ties up some loose ends that came of Stan using his name to commit massive tax fraud for thirty years, and then, finally, they take the Stan o' War II out on the high seas. Except...

They have no idea how to sail.

Sure, they had taught themselves (sorta) when they were kids, but that was... a long, long time ago. And sailing, especially sailing the 40' 'aged but beautiful' vessel they bought off the coast of California and refurbished, isn't actually... easy.

So they dock themselves up in the closest marina they could limp to on their little inboard engine, apologize to each other for the arguments that were sparked while fighting the main sheet in thirty-five knot winds and sideways rain, and shuffle their way to a sailing class.

And aren't they a sight: two sixty-somethings, identical twins, strangely haunted looks in their eyes, who seem to know everything and yet nothing about each other. Their classmates learn this quickly: Stan knows Ford's fingerprints, but not his favorite food. Ford remembers what Stan got for his fifth birthday, but not the name of his last ex. They're top of the class, of course (there's no official ranking, but everyone Knows Who's Best), and Ford keeps calling the twenty year old sailing instructor "kid," and we're pretty sure Stanley is... is that a gun? They're an entertaining pair of old men, for sure. Stan can't help it--- he's an entertainer at heart, he loves the attention--- and Ford finds he likes being recognized, but not for his oddities--- just his personality, and his stories.

Finally they feel confident enough to go out sailing on their own, and it's fulfilling, and fun, and they find a lot of cool shit. But as much as they love each other, and as much they learn about each other while sailing the deep blue, one just isn't enough company for two brothers who have always dreamed of being known. So, once or twice or four times a year, they sail back to that marina, check in on that class, and maybe do a little show 'n' tell. They become known in the area, two grunkles with a love for the sea but a heart belonging to land, and their visits are wild, fantastical things, with preserved mystical creatures and stories changing hands across each dock. Stan and Ford--- twins, but each their own personality, and appreciated for who they are. The Stan o' War II is their home, their purpose, and their future.

Fifteen or twenty or twenty-five or maybe, if we're lucky, thirty years later--- that's when the Stan o' War II sails into the marina slow and uncertain. And when they dock, it's not Stan and Ford who step off, but two young adults, a man and a woman. The sailing instructor, who is now a new twenty-year old, but has heard all the old stories of his predecessor, steps forward warily.

"You knew our grunkles, Stan and Ford," Dipper says to the suspicious crowd. He looks at the sailboat, and his face crumbles in the unmistakable folds of grief. "They... they used to say that their first breaths were by the sea, in a small Jersey beach town and--- and in order to top that, their last breaths should be on the sea. And they got their wish. And now... and now, well... Mabel and I, we don't know how to sail. We don't know how to keep the Stan o' War II alive."

It's natural, then, for Mabel and Dipper go to sailing class. They're twins who have fantastical stories and strangely haunted looks in their eyes; they're top of their class, even though there's no official ranking. When it's time, and class is over, they step onto the Stan o' War II and sail into the sunset.

The Dockmaster of the marina smiles sadly. He's not worried, though--- he saw how much they were like their grunkles while they were staying at the marina. And if he knows one thing about the Pines family, it's this: they'll be back, again and again, each discovery better than the last.

[jscrawls]

Widows rest

My take on a Black widow! Reader x Batman and Batfam but with a slight twist, reader doesn't know the Bats but they seem to know them...

Warning: contains avengers infinity war spoilers, black widow spoilers, brief mentions of violence, poor writing, possible ooc,

Part 9: awkward encounters.

🔹🔹🔹

You're carefully brushing through thick, dark hair. Cass sits at her vanity looking like she's impersonating a statue while Stephanie keeps replaying the beginning of the YouTube tutorial in-between bites of her hot pocket.

“does that hurt?” you mumble as you start to carefully twist her hair up, grabbing a hair tie and starting to try to smoothly secure it. Scowling when there's a few hairs out of place.

“No hurt, keep going.” Cass stares at your work through the mirror, following every move while you try to recreate the swan ballerina hairstyle.

“Needs more goo, lots more.” Steph chimes in, wiping her hands clean and shoving her fist into the green hair gel before slapping it on Cass’s head with an audible plap sound, you shiver as some of the cold goop lands on your fingers and slides down slowly.

“…. Very helpful Steph, wonderful addition.” You sigh as Steph Snickers and starts trying to spread the gel around, grabbing for a comb and trying to dig it into the goo covering your daughters head.

“Hey i know what I'm doing! Ballerinas and army chicks probably use even more goo than that anyways.”

“are the cheesy hands necessary?”

“Yes!”

all the while Cass just watches in the mirror with a small smile on her face as you two battle over the hair gel, making a mess as you go.

🔹🔹🔹

Bruce was in a rush when he arrived home this evening, Mr Johnson was gonna give him more grays if he keeps demanding meetings so he can complain about one thing or another. Though the irritation slowly bleeds away as he quickly goes through the manor, they're home right? They should be here somewhere and after the texts he got from Jason and Alfred earlier…he wants to see them.

Alfred catches up to him and stops his quick steps with a roll of his eyes, directing him in the right direction with a muttered “like a headless chicken.” Under his breath before returning to his work.

He hesitates in front of the old oaken door, the rooms totally quiet on the other side, perhaps you're resting, or you want to be alone. You're so…different now, it's probably best to leave.

He hears the bed creak, shuffling of sheets, he Bruce can't help himself but to open the door just a crack.

What he sees makes his chest ache, there you are…sprawled out in the sheets, Wayne golden evening sun hitting you through the wide windows like a Monet painting come to life, fuck he's missed seeing you like this…

🔹🔹🔹

You're startled awake, roughly twisting the hand on your shoulder while you force your weak body against your assailant until you can knock them to the floor with a thump, glancing around wildly until you remember where you are.

Your husband stares up at you with wild eyes, your weight on his stomach making him freeze like a Bambi in a field, one of his hands still pinned in your grip against the hardwood floor. Oh…

“someone's excited to see me.” Bruce blurts out, watching your frazzled expression as you look around the bedroom carefully. Analyzing you like he's worried you'll do something else. he tries not to get lost in the familiar lines of your face from this particular angle

You can only stare down at him when he gives that stupid statement, you release his hand like he's hot to the touch and quickly roll off him, your body now slightly sore from the sudden strain. “…. My apologies.” You're not quite sure what else to say, that dream freaked you out just like the last one, your dreams are bloody and sad, not…. That.

Bruce is quick to sit up, his eyes still trained on you as he stands from the floor. Wordlessly he reaches down and grabs at your arms to pull you up, helping you sit on the edge of the mattress. You just now realize that this looks like a shared bedroom, the butler put you in your husband's room.

“…you don't have to apologize, I'm sorry i scared you. You were moving around so i thought you were awake…” his voice is apologetic as he carefully sits beside you, a respectable distance between you two as he picks the blanket up out of the floor.

you hadn't even noticed it coming down with you when you'd knocked him…

“no, i do. I shouldn't have…” God you're out of it, are you losing your touch? Letting a dream distract you enough to fuck up as soon as you're in the home? This never would have flown in the red room.

“hey it's okay, I'm pretty sturdy actually…you didn't hurt me, i promise.” his hands eases down on top of yours on the bed, his palm warm in contrast. He's so gentle with you that it feels wrong, like it's not meant for you. Natalia would have been this understanding maybe, maybe even James. But they know you, know what you're about, what you've done. This man is speaking to someone he doesn't actually know.

Silence reigns for a few moments, awkwardness quickly replacing the fragile tenderness he'd established, you can see it in his body language that he wants to say something, he's different here, at the hospital he was more…. Assertive, in a way. Now it's like he's walking on eggshells, you can't help but think it's entirely your fault.

“…i heard you were bombarded by the press…” he starts quietly, his hand oh so softly squeezing over the top of yours, his body subtly leaning towards yours.

“It was only two, at most they just annoyed Mr pennyworth.” You glance around the bedroom to avoid his steady gaze, does he have to act like this is a Hallmark movie?

“they struck you, didn't they. Our lawyers are already working on it.” He sounds firm, briefly glancing at your lips.

You'd practically forgotten about the microphone already, you recently died who cares about a bump to the face. “It was hardly anything worth noting, did it even leave a mark?”

Your words are half in jest, but he seems to take it serious as he leans closer and turns your head towards him, you have to remind yourself that he's your spouse so you don't throw him to the floor again.

“…nothing, i think you escaped the paps unscathed.” He lets go, acting like nothing happened as he straightens back up and glances out the window.

“that's nice.”

Another awkward silence, Bruce chews the inside of his lip as he debates continuing.

“…I'm sorry, i wasn't there to pick you up today i…” he sounds awkward, hunching forward enough to rest his elbows on his knees, guilt?

“Mr pennyworth said you were at work, I'm not bothered by what happened.” you sound comforting right? You mirror his body language while you try to get a read on him.

“That's part of it, we thought…i thought there'd be less chance of…well, what happened today. I thought i was doing you a favor but instead i wasn't there to protect you.”

You hesitantly drop a hand on his shoulder to comfort him, you can't help but notice the muscle under your palm as you do, damn he must be doing some kind of calisthenics. You also realize this is probably the first time you've willingly touched him first, not counting the tackle and pin, you'll cringe at that later though.

“nothing happened that i wasn't able to deal with, I'm really fine, so let's not talk about it. okay?” It's a bit harsh, but it gets the message across well enough.

Bruce nods and stands from the edge of the bed with a grunt, sounding like a dad getting out of his armchair. The mental comparison actually almost makes you snort as he starts to wordlessly pull you up from your sitting position, are you going to have to deal with everyone pulling you around like a damn dog from now on?

🔹🔹🔹

Taglist: @cxcilla @mercuryathens @dind1n @redsakura101 @ninihrtss @let-me-dance @ladykamos @one-piecelover @cuntiesweet

[tinyfantasminha]

Happy birthday to this grumpy creature and to me 🥳

I didn't plan on making a bday card so I only settled with these sketches but HELPPPPPPPPPPFKGJKDNFJHG HUGE HUGE THANKS TO @amethystjewel01 MY BDAY TWINSIE FOR THIS AMAZING GIFT AND AT THE PERFECT TIMING 😭😭😭😭💕💕💕💕💕AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH I LOVE THE BACKGROUND AND HER IDGAF FACE. I LOVE IT SM ITS EXACTLY HOW I IMAGINED

(go hype @/amethystjewel01 and their OCs rn 🫵 )

Voice Lines:

Summon: ...Shut up... Just a few minutes...

Groovification: Aagh, I'm almost late! I need to get this eyeliner straight right now!

Home: .......Nnnnhg.

Swap Looks: The mandatory suffering of the morning.

Home Transition 1: I HATE waking up early. I only start to feel like myself after 10am.

Home Transition 2: Cater and Idia are always super set on sending a happy birthday message to me at exactly midnight. Gee I wonder at what hour do those guys go to sleep...

Home Transition 3: Even though it's a pain, I do my skincare routine and makeup every morning before classes. Can't let anyone see these eye bags...

Home Transition - Login: The boys from Heartslabyul are so sweet, they always make sure to prepare a birthday party for me. Trey-senpai must work to the bone to prepare all of those sweets and treats at the table.

Home Transition - Groovy: Yeah, yeah, I'll catch up with the birthday messages. I just need to prepare my beloved mocha coffee first so It'll help me wake up.

Home Tap 1: ...The hell d'ya want? Urk—! I'm so sorry, that was my morning voice speaking. I-It's no excuse to be rude to you...

Home Tap 2: ''What about my shirt''? Um... It's big and comfy to sleep in. What does it say? ......How about we change the subject.

Home Tap 3: Grim says I'm even scarier than Leona-senpai when I get woken up from my sleep. Haha, there's just no way...! Right?...

Home Tap 4: Jack's memory is so good, I told him when's my birthday once months ago and commented what I would want for a present, and he remembered every last detail! T-That's very sweet isn't it..............What?

Home Tap 5: I was so sleepy this morning on my way to class that I bumped into Leona-senpai and almost tripped but he caught my wrist before I could fall. He then said it to consider his birthday present to me. W-what kind of present is that...!?

Home Tap - Groovy: What's with that stare? Did you expect me to sleep in a frilly nightgown? Haha, I guess I shattered your expectations. Do you still think I look cute?

Birthday Login Message: Hey, thank you for the birthday wishes. The guys in the board game club said they're expecting me there. What are those nerds planning...? Knowing Azul, he probably prepared some game in which I need to win in order to get a present for free. Idia got good taste though, so I'm sure he has something super cool for me like a custom game board. Spending time with them is never dull. Ah, but don't tell them I said this, hehe.

[menlove]

queer paul tome pt 1: everything not related to john

okay i've been saying i'd make this post forever and it's uh. long. so i decided to split it up into four parts so i can get this first bit out and let it stop haunting me and so it's not 50 miles long.

feel free to add your own if it's not here or shoot me an ask and i'll add it :)

disclaimer: i'm not definitively saying sir paul mccartney is queer. i mean i really firmly think he is but it's all just speculation. also, if he is, there's obviously a reason he's not out about it & he deserves to have his privacy respected. i just personally find the dominant narrative in the fandom & even in larger spaces that poor pining queer john was in love with tragically heterosexual paul completely unconvincing and neeeeeed to be insane for a minute here

if this pisses u off u can simply scroll on by i do not need an essay in my notes. make your own post if you disagree.

(paul doing this for whatever reason in beverly hills, 1974- also the same trip he saw john on bc sure i guess)

this doesn't include lyrics as the main argument bc i saw a post ages ago basically saying there's nothing outside of them and lowkey i took that as a challenge because there's SO much outside of his lyrics that point to him being queer.

that being SAID, this is going to be split into four posts: not john related (most important and thus first bc there's so much documented about mclennon & john being queer, but not paul by himself), john related, paul's relationships w other men (these ones aren't all like... concrete and that's why they aren't included here but w all the context that'll come before it his relationships to certain men are..... interesting), and finally lyrics last bc some of them you genuinely can't just ignore

part 2- john related part 3- other men part 4- lyrics (those will have links once i actually make them)

also, i'm sure people have made similar posts before- i haven't seen them (other than this one an anon sent while i was writing this up which is sooo interesting but does have a lot of dead links) but if you have one you want to share feel free!

time to get into it. i'm avoiding homework by doing this.

(sidenote: not including instances of him just flirting w men bc body language can be read a lot of different ways- but if y'all wanna add any i know they're a dime a dozen like w george m., mal, random reporters, robert fraser, etc)

1- "Just kidding, Linda..."

REPORTER: You're a very, very good looking man. PAUL: [sits up straighter, making a sort of campy gesture towards the crowd, turning into a point] Get that boy's name. [Drops his hand, smiling and leaning his cheek on his hand.] Just kidding, Linda. REPORTER: [unintelligible] PAUL: What? REPORTER: I said- do you have a secret, looking so nice for fifty years? PAUL: [grins, resting his chin on his hand again and batting his eyelashes] Yes, it's the drugs, you know.

(originally posted on here by @northernsongspeels who hasn't been active in a while) this one is so crazy to me. he's so obviously flirting with that man and he's apologizing to linda for flirting with that man. like it's a conversation they've had before.

2- "Yes, boys."

this video (originally posted by @ilovedig here)

PAUL: Yes, I think the main difference is that when you are that age- which I'm sure you remember, Tom- TOM: It's back there in the dim distant past, yes. PAUL: When you're that age, that's the kind of thing to do. I mean, what you're doing is you're going 'round and you're basically looking for girls or whatever turns you on and stuff. So, uh, yeah, I- TOM: Well- well could you give me the alternatives to girls? Are there others? LINDA: [scoffs] PAUL: Yes, boys. TOM: Oh! No.

3- "He's so good looking."

Paul McCartney first read the name and saw the photo (for weeks there was just one crazy photo of Elvis available in Britain) during a free period at Liverpool Institute. Again, it was a friend with the NME, and there was an advert for Heartbreak Hotel. "I thought, 'He's so good looking,'" Paul says, "he just looked perfect." Mark Lewisohn, All These Years Vol. 1 Tune In, sourced from the Anthology TV series by Lewisohn.

4- "A Nice Person Girl"

this fun little interview... (originally posted by @amoralto idk why the archive.org capture of it looks funky but the audio is still there) take it w a grain of salt bc it can also just read as a homophobic joke but like.

August 22nd, 1966 (Warwick Hotel, New York): As DJ “Cousin Brucie” Morrow conducts brief interviews with each of the Beatles, one by one, he asks Paul to settle the rumours that have been circulating in the press about the status of his relationship with Jane Asher. MORROW: Moving over here to Paul – someone just handed me a card. I guess this is… [focusing] Last year, when you were on my microphone here— PAUL: Ask me something about Rick Sklar. MORROW: Rick Sklar? That’s my boss. JOHN: Ask Paul about Rick Sklar. MORROW: Uh, Paul, last year when you were on my microphone, I think somebody – one of your staff – announced an engagement of you and Jane. PAUL: Uh… MORROW: Do you remember that? It was announced on the air. And then I remember we said something on the air and then thousands of people from the street went, “Oh.” What is it with you and Jane now? How – what is your relationship? Are you planning a marriage, planning an engagement, are you just boyfriend and girlfriend, what is it? Tell us the whole thing. JOHN: [mutters; inaudible] PAUL: Uh. We’re just queer, that’s the scene. [uproarious laughter in background] That’s the scene. Well I mean, I couldn’t say that on the air live, you know. JOHN: No, you’ll get into trouble for it. PAUL: No, the thing is, Cousin Bruce – um, we haven’t got plans to marry yet, you know. That’s the point. And that business about somebody saying we were engaged, nobody actually said it. It was just another one of those things where someone says, “Are they engaged?” and they said, “Well, whatever it is… [muttering]” “Yes, folks, they’re engaged!” And it wasn’t true. MORROW: Well, I’m sure there are a lot of girls who are very happy with this. What would you look for, in a girl? Say you did eventually want to settle down, what would you want to – what kind of girl would you like? What would you – what would you like in a gal you wanted to marry eventually, bring home to Mommy? PAUL: Uh… Female hormones. MORROW: Female. What’ll you go for, any – what, blonde, brunette, what? PAUL: Uh, you know, anything. Anything. Girls. It doesn’t matter if they’re blonde, brunette, or anything, as long as they’ve got it. MORROW: Would you want a nice person – what? A beautiful nice person girl. PAUL: Yeah, you know. A nice person girl. (transcription directly from @amoralto, bold mine)

and again this one COULD just be a lil homophobic joke but idk man his tone here is very different and the fact that he says he couldn't say that on air & john says he'll get in trouble is just. interesting. it's Interesting.

5- "A 26 year old queer never to get married."

Half an hour later it was very quiet, except for a few sobs, and then we decided that we had to see him just once more. We opened the gates and walked slowly in. Someone rang the doorbell. Waited, no one came, rang again. Rang again. Paul answered. We just stood there. God what do we say? "Yes, what do you want?" he said, as if we'd just come to borrow sugar. C. ran out. Someone asked if it was tomorrow, and he said, "Tomorrow." It went quiet again. "What's this - Heartbreak Hotel? What do you think I am a 26 year old queer never to get married? Oh, stick around kids!" We just looked at each other. Oh God, Paul, what have we done now. All we wanted to do was stand there and talk awhile. What was the point in shouting at us like that? We stood there, tears falling but there was no sound. "Apple Scruffs Come to Dinner" by Andrew Bailey, 1970 (x), bold mine

again, like the last one, this one is very... i think he was absolutely being homophobic here, but it's a very telling outburst. like he's yelling this harsh enough to make these girls cry.

6- Harry Harrison's "gorgeous tan"

moving onto this wild quote from many years from now by barry miles about george's older brother (bold mine):

"George Harrison’s elder brother Harry had been to Christmas Island and arrived back with a gorgeous tan in his army uniform and we thought, My God, he’s been made a man of. You used to see this quite regularly, people would be made a man of."

7/8- gender neutral language

let's get into some interesting gender neutral language he uses. now, would this be Particularly compelling with a modern celebrity? not really. but most people his age really don't talk gender neutrally unless it's to be vague On Purpose. like this bit from many years from now, where before this he'd been using exclusively "girl" and "she/her" pronouns talking about hookups, it suddenly shifts to very purposefully vague (bold mine):

With a lot of those people I met and related to, albeit for a short time, I've mercifully forgotten them and I don't really remember what went on, thank goodness. There may have been a few drinks involved and I was a little merry and, you know, you slip back to someone's flat... My main feeling really is one of relief. You do feel like some of it was outrageous. But I'm glad to have had a slightly outrageous period in my life, as long as it didn't hurt anybody, because I'd always felt maybe my character was too careful. I think the great thing was I never had any deep, dark secrets. That's what the papers wanted. They wanted me to be hiding a little Miss Whiplash somewhere, and for the flat to be in my name. But it was never that. It was always a one-night stand with whoever was around and wanted to party.

this next one take w a grain of salt bc the source Is cited but looking it up online only brings up tumblr blogs. the source does seem to exist but i'm being so real i don't care enough to go and buy the source but if anyone wants to and wants to fact-check it have at it. bold mine:

Favourite Drink: If I could only choose one drink it would have to be water. When I’m a bit hung over that’s all I can take. But I still like a Scotch and Coke. I can’t overdo it any more. Four’s my maximum, four and I’m anybody’s. (official program booklet for The Paul McCartney World Tour (1989-90): Lifelines. (1989))

what's also interesting about this one is it's when him and linda were married, which gives some credence to the rumors that they maybe had an open relationship (men or not). it also makes me think of the "just kidding, linda" thing lmao. she can't take her husband anywhere or he's going to be fagging it up the second he gets 4 drinks in him.

9/10/11- the "binary" (ft. a bit of john)

this infamous quote from the lyrics in his section on "hello goodbye" (bold mine) (x):

I'm attracted to the binary. I state that quite casually, but I think there’s actually a lot more to it than my just saying, ‘I’m attracted to the binary.’ Once you get down to the scientific biological level, in my core, I probably am the binary. All of us are probably more binary than we might realise.

context being that when he says "the binary" he means duality. there's a lot of interesting stuff going on in this article, though there's some more john related stuff i'll add here too bc it's super fascinating (sorry, easier to go here than the john section!):

‘Hello, Goodbye’ shows off a binary that we took great advantage of in The Beatles. With regard to John Lennon and myself, the great attraction we had for each other was that we each had a bit the other didn’t have. John could be quite cynical. I was his opposite, in that respect. [...] I think there definitely was a sort of ‘hello, goodbye’ about John and myself. But we loved it. We loved it because John could contribute his caustic wit and I could contribute something more upbeat. Not always, we each did what the other one did from time to time. But if you had to break it down – and though it is a bit crude to say so – there was a binary tension at the heart of our songwriting together.

12- big guys at the gym

onto something more lighthearted and also just ridiculous (x):

"If I'm in a gym and all the big guys have got big weights and they're doing all the big stuff, at the end I do a headstand," he said. "And they come over to me [and say], 'That's pretty impressive man.'" ["78-year-old Paul McCartney’s fitness routine includes headstands and yoga with Alec Baldwin" by Cory Stieg]

13- gay dreams

this infamous quote which i have a bit of a different take on that i'll expand on in a sec (bold mine)

My view is that these things are there whether you want them or not, in your interior. You don’t call up dreams, they happen, often the exact opposite of what you want. You can be heterosexual and be having a homosexual dream and wake up, and think, “Shit, am I gay?” I like that you don’t have control over it. But there is some control – it is you dreaming, it is your mind it’s all happening in. In a way my equation would be that my computer is fully loaded by now. Maybe in younger people there’s a little bit of loading to go, but mine’s loaded pretty much, so what I try and do is allow it to print out unbeknown to me. And I’m interested to hear what it’s got in there. (interview by Karen Wright for Luigi's Alcove, 2000) (x)

a lot of people use this to point to him being oblivious, which i do get, but i want to focus more on the line "it is you dreaming, it is your mind it's all happening in". like he seems interested and fascinated by the revelations we have in our dreams- hardly repressed or scared.

14- royston ellis' "break me in easy"

we've all been over the royston ellis poem and i don't want to just retype out everything that's already on this post so go check out @eppysboys' post on the royston ellis poem!

but tl;dr a bisexual friend of theirs in liverpool, royston ellis, wrote this poem called "Break Me In Easy":

Easy, easy, break me in easy. Sure I’m big time, cock-sure and brash, but easy, easy, break me in easy. Sure they’ve been others, I know the way…

which is about gay sex. he also told the boys that 1 in every 5 men was gay and paul worried that it might be him (this was back in 1960). he still remembered it line for line by 2006 which is just insane. all the sources for those are over on the linked post.

15- woody pecker

originally posted by @didwemeetsomewherebefore here (links to my blog bc the wayback machine was not cooperating right but as long as it stays up you can find the original here!)

PAUL & DONOVAN: How to suck a lollypopper, Sitting on a woodypecker, Dancing in the double-decker shoe, I don’t know, So, how do you do? PAUL: I don't know how you do it, Lordy, knows I try But every time I try to do it, My whole darn tongue gets ti(r)ed

this one is just so sillyyyyy and cute but it's just so full of innuendo like sucking on a lollypop and sitting on a woody pecker and your tongue getting tied (tired?) when you try to suck the uh lollypop. giggling his way through it with one of his boy best friends donovan too.

16- "i heard he was gay"

this fun little quote from body count by francie schwartz:

When the rotation of bike, gun, and other diversions left me alone with Billy, his first words were, "You went with Paul McCartney, didn’t you?" "I bet you just love it when people ask you about your father, don't you?" He was surprised, he half-frowned. "No, really, what's Paul like? I heard he was gay." "He might have gone that way, but he didn't. He really didn't dig fucking all that much, if that's any kind of an answer."

note here though that francie is a notoriously unreliable source on paul. she hates him and honestly makes some pretty homophobic digs at him & others pretty frequently. so it is interesting that she denies he's gay, but says he might have gone that way. given how short of a time they were together and how weird their relationship was, i wouldn't really expect him to be open about that with her- still, she noticed something there too.

17- homosexual handbook

paul was mentioned in the homosexual handbook by angelo d'arcangelo in 1968 under a list of famous homosexuals. it's very tongue in cheek and says this "may just be wishful thinking on (my) part"

and obviously not proof as the book takes a very playful and unserious tone. he does provide this little disclaimer though, which i think is interesting:

Some of the men on this list are self-acknowledged homosexuals. Some are not. All of them are generally thought to be gay. However, as many family men and notorious womanizers appear on these pages, we must—rather than question their forays into either or both sexes—congratulate them on their obvious virility.

because once again like... WHERE are these rumors about paul being gay? because the rest of this list, as far as i can tell (ngl i did not do a deep read there) are men who have/had gay rumors about them or were gay. this comes up more in the john post as well, but i seriously need to know just how many rumors there were about him being gay.

18- "the female hordes"

It was always obvious Brian was gay and we could talk to him about gay things, but he would never come out with, 'Hello, Paul, you’re looking nice today.' I was quite obviously un-gay, due to my hunting of the female hordes, and I think we all must have given the same impression. There had been a suggestion since that John had some homosexual thing with Brian, but I personally doubt it. All the intimate moments we shared were always about girls. (from Anthology)

i know putting one of his "un-gay" quotes here is counter intuitive but listen i have genuinely never heard a gayer thing come out of a man's mouth than "hunting of the female hordes" it sends me to fucking mars every time i read it. that's the most closeted shit i've ever read in my entire life. it sounds like what a gay man would say trying to come up with something a straight man would say. and i think paul's bi, he just desperately wants me to think he's never gotten pussy a day in his damn life with this quote.

as a side-note, "all the intimate moments we shared were always about girls". now what do you mean by that man..... like shared as in verbally told stories? or do you mean it was always about the girls when you guys were...... intimate? because those are two really different things and i need to know what the hell that's supposed to mean

19/20- this poor man just wants to flirt with and kiss men can we let him

okay tumblr has nerfed me and won't let me add any more videos from tumblr but there's a video of drunk paul almost kissing ringo jokingly. posted by @stewy here and as long as it's up you can reblog it here- thank u for the contribution to my red stringing lmfao

pringo for once thank god but. i don't even have anything to say except to point and think of a slur. drunk as hell flirting with your best friend what's better than that.

and then this whole interaction between paul & elton john where they kiss on the mouth

and i could so buy that this is a straight man and gay man just being comfortable together except well see above and see the other posts but also paul's very much adapting a softer, "campier" tone around him and calling him babe/darling in a very, again, gay way. not as in he's gay For elton john lmfao but this is how to old gay friends would greet each other do you see what i mean do you understand me......

anyway that's the end of part 1 join me next time (whenever the fuck i decide to avoid doing homework again um) this man has sucked a dick i'm so sure of this. (not really don't sue me for libel paul love ya)

[jungkoode]

死 KKANGPAE | #03 死

† breakfast and training †

"His eyes are the kind of dark that makes you forget there was ever light in the world. And you hate that you're starting to notice details about him."

next | index

⚔ chapter details ⚔

word count: 5.4k

rating: mature

content: training violence, weapons, strong language, sexual tension

☠ author's note ☠

HELLO MY FELLOW SLEEP-DEPRIVED CREATURES. Welcome back to another episode of "Kiki makes questionable life choices and writes fanfiction instead of sleeping"!

Can we talk about how I wrote like three different versions of the gun scene before my perfectionist brain was satisfied? And by satisfied I mean "fine whatever just post it I guess." Don't @ me about gun accuracy, I play Call of Duty sometimes that's research enough (ㆆᴗㆆ)

Also yes, I am absolutely living for the whole "oh no they're training together" trope. Sue me. Or don't, I'm broke. All I have is caffeine and the ability to make my characters suffer. Speaking of which - Jeon in combat mode? chef's kiss My boy is out there being all professional and grumpy while Y/N is just trying her best not to get shot. We love that for them.

PSA: The whole "Cookie" thing was totally self-indulgent and I regret nothing. V is here to cause chaos and honestly? Goals.

Special shoutout to my cat who watched me write this at 3 AM and judged me silently. You're the best beta reader a girl could ask for, even if your only feedback is knocking my coffee over.

See you next Tuesday, you beautiful disasters! Remember: sleep is for the weak and fanfiction is for life.

crawls back into writing cave while mainlining espresso

Kiki

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Mornings in the castle hit different. Through your window, the sky's doing that thing where it can't decide if it's still night or already dawn—all soft blues mixing with hints of gold. Everything's quiet, like the world's holding its breath.

Then your alarm goes off.

"Why did we agree to this again?" Yunjin whines from her bed, fumbling to shut up the annoying buzz. Her pink hair is a mess, splayed across her pillow like cotton candy gone wrong.

"Croissants," you remind her, stretching until your joints pop. "Fresh, buttery, heavenly croissants."

"Not hungry." She burrows deeper into her blanket cocoon. "Too early for hunger. Too early for existing."

You swing your legs off the bed, bare feet hitting the cold floor. "What happened to yesterday's 'new me, new goals' speech?"

"That was yesterday's Yunjin. Today's Yunjin chooses sleep."

With a snort, you pad over to her bed. It's literally two steps away—your shared room is cozy like that, with just enough space for two singles and matching bedside tables. You give her shoulder a gentle shake.

"And what's tomorrow's Yunjin gonna think about that?"

"Tomorrow's Yunjin's problem," she mumbles, death-gripping her blanket. Smart girl. She knows your next move would've been stealing it.

"Then it's tomorrow's me problem too!" You can't help but laugh, and it finally gets her to peek one eye open.

She lets out the longest, most dramatic sigh. "Fine. Fine. You win."

Your shared laughter is soft, comfortable. It's weird how quickly Yunjin became your person here. Maybe because she's as new to this as you are—no pressure to measure up to badasses like Chaewon or keep your guard up around intimidating figures like V and Jeon.

She joined two months before you did. For her, it meant saying goodbye to having her own room, but she says it was worth the trade-off. Girl's a mess when it comes to sleep schedules, but she keeps your shared space spotless and her determination is s̶c̶a̶r̶y̶ impressive. Like, you've seen her practice seduction techniques until 3 AM, and now here she is, dragging herself up at dawn for... well, croissants and self-improvement.

There's something genuinely good about Yunjin. She's always there—to help, to listen, to just be. Five months in and everyone in Seduction already adores her. Yeah, she's clumsy as hell during physical training, but her mind is sharp. Nothing gets past her—it's like she's got a built-in lie detector.

After yesterday morning's... incident, you're extra grateful for her company.

You both grab your digital cards from your bedside tables—can't go anywhere in this place without them. They're basically your whole identity here, determining which doors open for you and which stay firmly shut.

The castle corridors feel endless this early. Most members are probably still sleeping or doing whatever gang members do at dawn. Your footsteps echo softly as you and Yunjin make your way to the cafeteria, keeping the conversation light.

"Have you had breakfast here before?" you ask, watching her stifle another yawn.

"Once." She nods, her pink ponytail bouncing. "Got up at 10 though. Wasn't worth sacrificing sleep for."

You can't help but smile. "Early breakfast hits different. You'll see."

When you reach the cafeteria, Yunjin taps her digital card against the scanner. The light blinks green, and suddenly your nose is filled with the heavenly smell of fresh pastries. Inside, only a handful of early birds are scattered around the massive space. Makes sense—most people here prefer their beds at this hour.

Your eyes do their usual sweep of the room, casual and practiced. But then something pulls at you, like a magnet finding true north. Your gaze locks with dark, piercing ones.

Jeon.

"Oh, that's Jeon, right?" Yunjin's voice cuts through your thoughts. "Guess he likes mornings too."

You nod, still watching him from the safety of the doorway. Something about the distance makes you feel almost safe. He's got that thing about him—that unmistakable aura of authority that even 6 AM can't dim.

"Damn," Yunjin says after a beat, blunt as ever. "He's hot."

"Let's get food," you mutter, rolling your eyes and heading for the pastry section.

You and Yunjin load up your plates with a bit of everything, especially those famous croissants. Finding a quiet corner, you settle in to enjoy both the food and each other's company, pointedly not thinking about piercing dark eyes or brooding corners.

You try to look casual as your eyes drift back to Jeon for the hundredth time.

He's sitting there, both hands wrapped around a steaming cup of coffee like it's his lifeline to sanity this early in the morning. The sight of those tattooed fingers curled around plain white ceramic does something to your brain that you'd rather not examine too closely.

"You know, I heard something interesting about him." Yunjin's voice makes you jump. S̶h̶i̶t̶ Great, she caught you staring.

"Oh?" You tilt your head, hoping your voice sounds more curious than guilty.

Yunjin leans in conspiratorially, her pink hair falling forward as she drops her voice to barely above a whisper. It's kind of unnecessary given how far away Jeon is, but there's something about him that makes everyone speak in hushed tones.

"Apparently, he's got this whole... ritual thing going on. Every single morning, without fail, he makes sure he's the first one to get fresh coffee. Like, the first cup from a fresh pot."

Your eyes track back to that cup held between ink-covered fingers. Now that she mentions it, you've never seen him drink anything else in the mornings. The way he's savoring it, eyes closed and expression almost peaceful, makes you think Yunjin might be onto something.

"Every day? He's literally the first one here?" The mental image of Jeon lurking outside the cafeteria doors, waiting for them to unlock, is both hilarious and weirdly endearing.

"From what I've heard. Maybe it's a power move?" Yunjin suggests with a soft laugh. "You know, asserting dominance through caffeine consumption."

The idea of someone as intimidating as Jeon—co-leader of the Assassination Division, member of the Council of 9, literal professional killer—climbing the ranks of one of South Korea's most dangerous gangs just to secure his morning coffee makes something bubble up in your chest.. You have to bite your lip to keep from laughing too loud.

"Imagine that being his master plan all along," you snort. "Join gang, become assassination chief, get first dibs on coffee."

You both dissolve into quiet giggles, but the moment shatters when something shifts in the air. It's like thorny vines suddenly wrapping around your lungs, making it hard to breathe. You don't need to look to know who it is.

"Mind if I join the fun?" V's voice slides over your skin like honey laced with poison, playful but with that edge that makes your hair stand on end.

His arms drape over your shoulders without warning, caging you and Yunjin in what should be a friendly gesture but feels more like being trapped. Your muscles tense automatically. There's something about V that keeps you perpetually on edge—like admiring a rose only to remember it's got thorns that could draw blood.

Yunjin manages a wobbly smile, but you can tell she's as unsettled as you are by his sudden appearance. "We were just... talking about coffee."

"Coffee?" V drawls the word like it personally offends him. He pulls back, throwing his arms behind his head in that carelessly graceful way of his, but stays close enough that you can smell cinnamon. "Boring. Now, this new training program? That's something worth discussing."

His eyes glint with mischief, reminding you of a cat playing with its food. "I'm keen to see what you girls bring to the table. Should be... intriguing, don't you think?"

The way he says it makes your skin crawl. There's nothing overtly threatening about his words, but the undercurrent is clear—the Assassination Division isn't known for playing nice, and V seems to view the upcoming cross-training as his personal playground.

"I'm sure it will be enlightening," you say carefully.

V's energy is infectious, but not in a good way. More like a disease you're trying not to catch.

He chuckles, and those thorny vines around your lungs squeeze tighter. "Oh, I'm sure it will be. And don't worry, yours truly will be there to add a little spice to the mix. Can't let things get too dull, can we?"

Before you can respond, his attention snaps to something—or someone—across the cafeteria. With a dismissive wave that somehow manages to feel both elegant and insulting, he strides off as suddenly as he appeared.

You exchange looks with Yunjin, both of you sagging with relief once he's gone. She looks as drained as you feel, like V's presence alone sucked all the energy from the room.

"Well, that was... something," Yunjin says, and you could write a whole essay about everything packed into that single word. Her pink hair is still slightly disheveled from where V's dramatic entrance messed it up.

"That's one way to put it." You try to shake off the phantom feeling of thorny vines around your lungs. V's presence leaves you feeling like you've been through some kind of emotional washing machine—tumbled around and wrung out.

"But oh my god." Yunjin's whole face suddenly lights up like she's remembered something amazing. The whiplash from her mood shift almost gives you vertigo.

"What?" You ask, though part of you already knows where this is going. Yunjin might be shy and perceptive, but she's also a total simp when it comes to pretty faces.

"He is SO handsome?" Her voice rises with genuine awe. "Everyone kept saying he looks like a prince, but I thought they were exaggerating. They were not."

You raise an eyebrow, wondering if you were even in the same conversation just now. Sure, V's gorgeous—that's kind of his whole thing. The dangerous beauty, the dripping poison. But after feeling his aura wrap around you like a boa constrictor, 'handsome' isn't exactly the first word that comes to mind.

"Did you miss the whole creepy vibe?" You keep your voice low, even though V's long gone. Some habits die hard in this place. "He talked about the training program like he's planning to turn it into his personal episode of Squid Game. With popcorn."

"Yeah, but like..." Yunjin waves her hand dismissively, "have you seen his face? Those cheekbones? That jawline?"

"The way he's probably plotting our deaths as we speak?" You counter, but you can't help the smile tugging at your lips. Trust Yunjin to focus on the aesthetics while completely ignoring the red flags. It's kind of adorable, in a concerning way.

"Doesn't change the fact that he's eye candy," she says with zero shame, stabbing her fork into her breakfast. "Like, premium, expensive, imported chocolate level of eye candy."

"True," you admit, finally taking a proper bite of your croissant.

And it is true—V's got that whole ethereal beauty thing going on, like a masterpiece painting that happens to be slightly cursed. The kind of face that belongs in museums but also probably comes alive at night to terrorize security guards.

But even as you acknowledge V's obvious appeal, your eyes betray you, drifting back to that other corner of the cafeteria. Back to dark eyes and hurricanes.

Back to Jeon.

It's not like you mean to look.

It just... happens.

Like your gaze has some kind of magnetic programming that keeps pulling it in his direction.

Which is s̶t̶u̶p̶i̶d̶ inconvenient because the last thing you need is to get caught staring at one of the most dangerous men in Kkangpae while you've got croissant crumbs on your face.

The rest of your morning slips by without V popping up again to make your skin crawl. You try to focus on getting ready for what's coming, but your mind keeps drifting to the upcoming training.

Working with Jeon and V's division? Yeah, that's not anxiety-inducing at all.

When you step onto the training field outside the castle, the change of scenery hits different. After being cooped up in the gang's concrete maze, the open space and towering trees feel almost surreal. The cold morning air bites at your lungs—a wake-up call you didn't ask for but probably need.

Today's not just another training day. It's your first cross-training with the Assassination Division, and the tension in the air is so thick you could cut it with one of V's knives.

Your stomach does this weird flip-flop thing as you walk towards the gathering crowd. Working with Jeon after... that incident? Not exactly on your bucket list. The memory of your last encounter sits heavy in your chest, making each step feel like you're walking through mud.

The Assassination Division is already there when you arrive, looking like they stepped out of some action movie poster. Some look ready to murder, others look ready for a nap. But it's Jeon who catches your eye—impossible not to, really. It's like the air itself is swirling around him like a storm about to break.

He's got that look on his face—you know the one. All business, no bullshit, could probably kill you with his pinky finger.

No sign of V though.

Makes sense, when you think about it. Those two aren't exactly besties—more like two wolves forced to share the same territory. Their whole approach to killing is different as night and day.

Jeon's all about precision. Clean shots, minimal mess, maximum efficiency. He's the type to plan every detail, calculate every variable. Need someone taken out from two buildings away without anyone even knowing what happened? That's his specialty. The human equivalent of a surgical strike.

V though? He's chaos incarnate. Gets up close and personal with his kills, leaves a message written in blood if he feels like it. He's the guy you call when you want someone dead and don't care how messy it gets. Planning? Fuck planning—V works on pure instinct and improvisation.

The crowd goes quiet as Jeon steps forward. The atmosphere shifts, less like a raging storm now and more like the heavy air before thunder breaks. When he speaks, his voice does that thing where it demands attention without actually raising in volume. And despite everything—despite knowing better—you find yourself leaning in slightly to catch every word.

"Your state of mind is everything in this line of work," he says, dark eyes scanning the crowd like he's reading everyone's potential in real time. "A calm, collected mind can mean the difference between life and death."

The task he lays out seems simple enough: shoot the cardboard target, hit the center, don't mess it up. But as you watch others take their turns, that knot in your stomach keeps getting tighter.

The gun feels wrong in your hand. Not that you haven't held one before—basic training covers that—but this is different. This is him watching, and somehow that makes your palms extra sweaty.

Then your turn's up.

Walking to the mark feels like crossing a minefield, every step measured and tense. Your heart's going so hard you can barely hear anything else.

Focus. You need to focus.

But Jeon's standing right there, making the air thick and hard to breathe. Your finger hovers over the trigger, but doubt creeps in like poison.

The target blurs in and out. You can feel Jeon watching, that heavy gaze picking apart every flaw in your stance. The pressure builds in your chest until you're sure something's gonna snap.

Just a bit longer. You need to be absolutely sure before taking the shot.

It's not like Seduction gets much practice with actual weapons—your arsenal usually involves batting eyelashes and strategic flirting, not bullets and gunpowder. So it's no wonder the gun starts slipping through your sweaty fingers.

You tighten your grip. A surge of determination hits you like a shot of adrenaline. Come on. It's just cardboard. You've handled way worse situations than this. You can do this.

Your finger starts to squeeze the trigger—

BANG.

That... wasn't your gun.

You flinch, turning toward the sound before you can stop yourself. Through the corner of your eye, you catch smoke curling from Jeon's pistol.

He's standing there looking bored, arm extended like this is just another one of his daily mornings. The gun fits his hand like it was molded for him, an extension of his body rather than a weapon.

When your eyes snap to the target, there it is—perfect shot, dead center, because of course it is.

A̶s̶s̶h̶o̶l̶e̶ Show-off.

You lower your gun, lips pressed tight. His gaze sits heavy on your shoulders, hurricane pressure bearing down until you want to scream. His face gives nothing away, but those dark eyes say plenty—and none of it's good.

"If you're not quick enough, you'll get killed." His voice cuts like ice. "Let that be a reminder for everyone else."

The words hit like a slap. Heat rushes to your face—anger, embarrassment, frustration, all mixing together into something that makes you want to either punch something or crawl into a hole. Preferably punch him, but you're very aware of everyone watching this little show he's putting on.

Both divisions are staring, and you've never felt more like a fish in a very small, very exposed bowl.

Your eyes meet Jeon's, and suddenly breathing gets hard. His stare hits different—those dark eyes boring into yours like he's trying to read your soul, pupils blown wide in a way that makes your stomach do weird flips.

That silver lip ring catches the light when his mouth twists into something s̶e̶x̶y̶ condescending. He opens his mouth—probably to tear into you some more—but then—

BANG.

Everyone drops like puppets with cut strings. Pure instinct.

It's instant chaos. Voices rise into a crescendo of shouts and commands, bodies moving with practiced urgency.

It's kind of beautiful, in a messed-up way—how quickly personal beef gets shelved when shit hits the fan. One minute Jeon's looking at you like you're dirt on his boot, next second he's barking orders to keep everyone safe.

Your heart's in your throat as you scan the crowd for a flash of pink hair.

Yunjin.

But Yunjin's nowhere.

The sea of faces blurs together—no Kazuha, no Eunchae, not even Sakura. Even Chaewon's vanished, which is weird because she's usually got this sixth sense about danger.

Another shot cracks through the air. Your fingers tighten around your gun until your knuckles go white. Your eyes keep drifting to the treeline, where shadows dance between patches of dark green.

A calm, collected mind can mean the difference between life and death.

His words echo in your head, which is ironic considering how not calm you feel right now.

Fuck it.

You're moving before you can second-guess yourself, legs carrying you toward the forest. Maybe it's stupid, but you need space to think. To be calm, like he said.

Plus, the trees might give you cover—an advantage you desperately need right now.

The forest swallows you up. Sunlight filters through leaves overhead, painting everything in shifting patterns of light and shadow. Every step crunches on dead leaves, making you wince. So much for stealth.

V wouldn't be happy.

The chaos from the training ground fades the deeper you go, replaced by normal forest sounds—birds chattering overhead, small animals rustling in the bushes. It's almost peaceful, if you ignore the whole possible death situation.

You spot it then—a ridge overlooking the training ground, hidden behind thick bushes. Perfect vantage point, if you can reach it. The climb makes your muscles burn, but you manage. Up here, you force yourself to breathe slow and steady, trying to quiet your racing heart. Your fingers trace the gun's cold metal like a lifeline.

Your back hits the tree with a thud. The bark scrapes against your spine through your shirt, but you barely notice. Every nerve in your body is focused on that rustling sound behind you.

Footsteps.

Your breath catches. They're quiet—too quiet to be some random person stumbling through the woods.

No, these are the steps of someone who knows how to move silently. Someone trained.

Adrenaline floods your system as you press yourself flatter against the tree. Your fingers tighten around the gun until your knuckles go white. Through a gap in the leaves, you try to catch a glimpse of whoever's approaching, but the foliage is too thick.

Friend or foe?

The question pounds in your head with each careful footstep drawing closer. Your mind races, too many possibilities—it could be an enemy, could be another member searching the area.

Could be death or salvation walking your way.

The steps are almost upon you now. Your breathing goes shallow, controlled. You might be exposed up here, but they don't know that. Surprise is your only advantage right now.

Shoot or strike?

The dilemma tears at you. A gunshot would alert everyone to your location. And if it turns out to be an ally... F̶u̶c̶k̶ No. Hand-to-hand is safer. Quieter. Less explaining to do if you're wrong.

Your muscles coil tight as a spring. When the footsteps are close enough, you launch yourself from behind the tree in one fluid motion, aiming to take them down hard and fast.

Instead, you slam into what feels like a brick wall.

Oh.

It's Jeon.

His reflexes are insane—before you can even process who he is, he's already moving. The air sweeps around you as he twists, disarming you with embarrassing ease. Your gun hits the ground with a clatter that seems to echo through the whole forest.

Recognition hits you both at the same moment. That flicker of shock in his eyes quickly turns to his usual look of disdain, because of course it does.

Then—a misstep.

Your ankle rolls, sending white-hot pain shooting up your leg. You stumble, sucking in a sharp breath. His grip on you loosens just slightly, and something that might be concern flashes across his face before his usual cold mask slips back into place.

"You okay?" His voice is gruff, like the words are being dragged out of him against his will.

"Just perfect," you snap back, because fuck his concern when your ankle feels like it's on fire and your pride hurts even worse.

He just stands there, staring at you with those dark eyes that see too much.

"What the hell were you thinking?" A pause, one eyebrow lifting. "You have a gun, don't you?"

You almost laugh. Because of course. If you'd shot at him, he'd be lecturing you about trigger discipline. Attack hand-to-hand, and suddenly you're an idiot for not using your weapon.

You seriously can't win with this man.

"Well, good thing I didn't use it on you then." The words come out lighter than you feel, dancing between playful and pissed. "And what are you doing here anyway? Shouldn't you be back there playing commander?"

"That's what deputies are for." The casual way he says it makes your teeth grind. "Besides, I dispatched a team to check the gunfire. Just my luck, running into you instead."

"Pleasure's all mine, chief." You load the title with all the sarcasm you can muster.

"And you?" His dark eyes study you like you're a particularly puzzling target he can't quite line up. "Any reason you're out here instead of following orders?"

"Didn't get any orders to follow." You cross your arms, ignoring how his presence makes your skin prickle. "And that ridge over there?" You jab a finger toward the overlook. "Perfect vantage point. I was trying to be strategic before you showed up."

He actually grimaces at that, like your logic physically pains him. But before he can open his mouth to deliver what's surely another lecture, you add:

"Just my luck, running into you instead."

The words—his own words turned back on him—hit their mark. His eyebrow twitches just slightly, and satisfaction blooms warm in your chest.

Score one for you.

But before you can inwardly celebrate, he grimaces. He actually grimaces before he opens his stupid mouth again.

"That?" His voice drips with condescension. "You think that's prime real estate for observation?" The asshole holds back a laughter. "Alright." He says, and you ponder the merits of hitting him with a rock.

But then he begins walking, and you trail after him, partly because s̶c̶r̶e̶w̶ ̶h̶i̶m̶ he's wrong and partly because... well, where else are you gonna go?

"Remind me again—which one of us specializes in persuasion and observation?" You can't keep the annoyance from your voice. His arrogance is starting to give you a headache.

"And which one of us is known for sniping?" He tilts his head just enough for you to catch the silver flash of his eyebrow piercing. "You think I don't know a thing or two about picking vantage points?"

"Just because you can shoot from far away doesn't mean you know the best places to shoot from." The words come out sharper than intended. "What works for a sniper might not work for surveillance. They're different skill sets."

"How so?" He doesn't even bother looking back now. "A lookout's a lookout, smartass."

Your hands find your hips. "You know what? Ask me that again when you sit in on our cross-training. Might learn something useful."

"Learn from an ensign?" His tilt is mocking. "No—learn from you?" He lets out a low chuckle that makes your teeth grind. "Pretty sure it works the other way around."

"Forgot about Flower?" You can't help the snark in your voice. "She's a chief too, and I'm sure she'd love to put you in your place."

The exhale he lets out is so exaggerated it has to be for dramatic effect. "You're insufferable."

"Feeling's mutual, chief."

You trail behind Jeon through the darkness, trying to ignore how his mere presence makes the night air feel electric against your skin. The silence wraps around you both, broken only by your footsteps until—

A rustle in the underbrush.

Before you can react, his hand clamps around your wrist. No warning, no words—just the firm press of tattooed fingers against your pulse point as he yanks you behind a massive rock. You crash against him, bodies colliding in a mess of limbs and s̶h̶i̶t̶ startled breath.

You open your mouth to tell him exactly what you think about being manhandled, but his finger presses against his lips. Shut up. His eyes scan the darkness beyond your hiding spot, focused and lethal.

And suddenly you're way too aware of him.

The moonlight paints him in silver and shadow, highlighting things you've never noticed before. Like how his eyebrow piercing catches the light—two tiny beads of silver that draw attention to the way his brow furrows in concentration. Or how that lip ring glints when his mouth sets in that stern line you know too well.

There's a scar on his left cheek—barely there, really. Just a whisper of a mark that makes you wonder what story it tells. Your eyes drift lower, catching on the small mole decorating the left side of his neck. It's such a delicate detail on someone who radiates danger, like finding a flower growing through concrete.

But it's his eyes that f̶u̶c̶k̶ y̶o̶u̶ u̶p̶ catch you off guard. Dark and deep, framed by stupidly long lashes that flutter when he blinks. They're beautiful in a way that makes your chest tight—and isn't that just f̶u̶c̶k̶i̶n̶g̶ fantastic? You didn't need to know that about him.

This close, you can see the tiny lines at the corners of those eyes. They speak of sleepless nights and heavy choices, of burdens carried too long alone. Watching him like this—he feels different now, less like a storm trying to drown you and more like standing in summer rain.

The realization hits like a punch to the gut: you're seeing Jeon. Not the cold-as-ice division chief or the intimidating Council member. Just... him. Human.

Complex.

His fingers are still wrapped around your wrist like an iron band. If anything, his grip's gotten tighter, and you're caught between wanting to yank free and being weirdly aware of how warm his hand is against your skin in the cool night air. It's hard to tell if you're feeling trapped or protected.

The footsteps draw closer—deliberate, confident. Not someone trying to hide.

You watch a muscle tick in Jeon's jaw, the kind of tiny detail you wouldn't normally notice if you weren't pressed so close to him. It's fascinating, in an annoying way, how he can look so calm while radiating such intense energy.

His eyes flick to yours for just a second, but it feels loaded with... something. Like you're suddenly partners in this mess, whether you like it or not. It's more communication than you've had in all your previous conversations combined.

The rustling gets louder. You hold your breath. Jeon's gone statue-still beside you, but you can feel the coiled tension in him. His dark eyes snap to a spot in the trees, then back to you with unnerving intensity.

"Shoot there."

You stare at him like he's lost his mind. "What?"

"There." His voice is barely a whisper, rough with urgency. He jerks his chin toward whatever he's seeing that you're apparently missing.

"You want me to shoot a tree branch?" The skepticism in your whisper could cut glass. "Seriously?"

"Just do what you're told." The words rumble out of him like distant thunder, crackling with impatience.

You give Jeon a look, but arguing isn't an option right now.

The gun feels heavy as you line up the shot. Your finger finds the trigger, and for a split second, everything goes quiet. The bang echoes through the trees, making your ears ring. You watch as the bullet hits exactly where Jeon wanted—that innocent-looking branch that apparently wasn't so innocent after all.

A net explodes from the darkness like some kind of ninja trap, shooting toward the approaching figure. But whoever it is moves like water—fluid, impossible, beautiful in a terrifying way. The net hits empty ground with a sad little flutter while your brain tries to process what just happened.

Beside you, Jeon goes still. If you weren't pressed so close, you might have missed that tiny hitch in his breath—the only sign that this wasn't part of his plan. His eyes narrow just slightly, that crack in his perfect mask making your stomach do weird flips.

He pushes you back against the rock, putting himself between you and whatever's coming. The stone digs into your spine, cold and rough through your clothes.

Then everything happens at once.

A shadow vaults over your hiding spot, moving with deadly grace. Gunshots crack through the night, and suddenly Jeon's shoving you down, his body covering yours. The world spins into a blur of motion and sound, your pulse drumming so loud you can barely think.

When reality settles back into focus, you watch the figure reach for their mask. Your fingers tighten on your gun, waiting to see what kind of threat managed to dodge one of Jeon's traps.

The mask comes off.

Oh for fuck's sake.

V's grinning like the cat that got the cream. "Paintball night!" he announces with way too much glee for someone who just scared the shit out of you.

Relief and irritation war in your chest. Of course it's V. Who else would turn a simple training exercise into their personal dramatic performance?

You watch Jeon's shoulders drop, but the annoyance is written all over his face. His jaw's so tight you can practically hear all the curses he's not saying.

Always the professional, even when he's irritated.

V's eyes dances with delight as he watches Jeon simmer. "Don't look at me like that, Kookie," he coos, lips curling into that signature smirk that makes you want to take a step back.

Cookie?

You blink, trying to process that nickname. Looking at Jeon—all dark clothes, silver piercings, and intimidating tattoos—the last thing that comes to mind is anything remotely cute or sweet. The mental image of him buying cookies from some terrified boy scouts makes you bite back a laugh.

Now that's a story you'd pay to hear.

Jeon's eyebrow shoots up in that way that somehow manages to say f̶u̶c̶k̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶ more effectively than actual words. His tongue pushes against the inside of his cheek, jaw working like he's physically holding back whatever he wants to say. He's irritated.

"I'll give you some advantage," V sighs dramatically, thorny vines wrapping around your lungs even from this distance. "No fun beating you when you're unarmed." The words drip with amusement, like this whole thing is his favorite game. "See ya."

With one last unsettling grin, he melts into the darkness. Because of course he does. Dramatic asshole.

You're still sprawled on the ground, processing what just happened. Leave it to V to turn a regular night into some twisted paintball training session. The man's idea of "improving stealth skills" is giving everyone heart attacks.

Beside you, Jeon's muscles finally uncoil from their battle-ready stance. He looms over you, and you can't tell if the expression on his face is more annoyed or relieved.

"You gonna get up or what?" The words come out gruff, but there's something else there. Something that might be concern if you squint.

Then his hand appears in front of your face. You stare at it for a second, surprised. It's weirdly bare compared to his tattooed arms, and you hesitate before taking it. His grip is firm but careful as he helps you up.

The whole night feels surreal —one weird training session bleeding into another. You glance at Jeon as he stretches, working out the tension in his shoulders.

The mystery of "Cookie" tugs at your curiosity, but one look at his face tells you now's not the time to ask.

Some mysteries are probably better left unsolved.

next | index

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© jungkoode 2025 no reposts, translations, or adaptations

[ilvfryends]

Everyone turns to me as my new apprentice dry-heaves the all of nothing left in his stomach. 3 people are slumped in various positions covered in various different colors and break-outs. "I mean bonus points for the variety but hell do you even understand the simplicity of long acting poison?! If you really wanted everyone here dead giving it a couple hours to kick in would be the best way to go about it." I am quite literally the house witch, it is literally my job to understand this and these idiots apparently hate their witches and have zero respect for them.

Some idiot in a grassy green jacket says "well I mean, what did you expect? We all hate each other" everyone else nodding in agreement.

"Honestly I respect all of you more for the blatancy, it's well respected at my home to say it how it is." That stupid girl from Tresstown says from the far side of the table, her pink gown matching her obnoxious voice.

"Oh shut it you Tressian, nobody gives a damn about what you respect, all you people ever do is talk about yourselves"

"Ya like you're any better Alador, all you do all day is pig out and chop off heads for fun"

Gods this is getting old, wouldn't it be fun to just kill them all, nobody likes them anyways. And as previously stated, a lot of them have an affinity for killing people. What if I just... "Well lets clear all this" I magic away the whole dinner "and drink. What are we feeling?" I pull open the hidden bar start lining the table with whatever is called out, ending with myself an expresso martini in hand. "To dirtbags doing the dirty work" which earns me one hell of a glare from Travis, my assigned Lord, before we all drink.

20 minutes later as I'm making round 2 the coughing begins, everyone looks around, specifically at my dear Lord Travis who is the only one not hacking up blood at this point. Eyes roll back, limbs twitch and more bodies end up lying slumped on and off the table. "Oh dear Drame, I never thought you to have the guts."

"In my defence they killed my apprentice, he was actually really good at his job." I hand him the fresh drink before sitting back at his side an apple-raspberry cocktail in mine, "they have heirs so relief will be short-lived."

He takes a long drink before starting "well sh-" and then dropping dead, he was alright, short and sweet worked for him.

""Hey guys, they're all dealt with, the heirs gone yet?""

I hear some screams and slashing before ""mine are done."" Oh so obviously Grace, being excessive as usual. ""Don't worry I'll shower before meeting y'all""

Everyone else confirms, ""welcome to the revolution ladies. Remember, we're meeting at the stones in an hour, let your crows in to clean up before you magic out."

1 hour later

"Lets get out of this hell already" Trish complains the second she appears.

"I swear to the gods if I have to hear anyone say that again I'm leaving you to do the spell on your own. Making a mass portal to the Fey realm is not quick and I've already been here for a half hour longer than the rest of you"

"Bitchy much?" She jokes to the others to which she receives eye rolls, we were all more than glad when she got assigned to the farthest province, sadly we can't leave her; all of us or none of us, that was the deal.

About 10 minutes later it's ready, all 26 of us stand in the circle, me at the center and spreading out by power level, the power is imbued, the words are spoken, and with a flash of light and then a wave of darkness we're pulled through space straight into the Dwarven citadel.

"….Okay, are any of the dishes not poisoned?! Is there anyone at this feast who did not poison anything?!"

[kabsey]

rook sleepwalking, part 2 (more serious version)

lucanis is sitting on the red couch in the dining hall reading when rook walks in. they stop just inside the doors, not moving, not saying anything

lucanis quietly calls out. "rook?"

at the sound of his voice, rook turns toward him. they walk straight toward him, their steps far heavier and slower than their usual silent tread. they curl up on the other side of the couch, the crown of their head barely brushing his thigh. they're clearly asleep. he has no idea what to do. he doesn't want to stand up or move away because it might wake them, and they of all people need decent sleep. eventually he just goes back to his reading... or tries to. it's hard when he is so aware of how close rook is

when he senses it's around the time that they others will wake and come looking for breakfast or coffee, he eases himself off the couch as carefully as he is able (which is very carefully) and retreats to the pantry. when he hears the others come in and he is forced to go brew the coffee or they will all have to suffer through neve's, he steps back out. he glances toward the couch, but rook is gone

he doesn't mention it when they come down later. perhaps it was just one odd night

but it happens again. and again. and again until it becomes a new part of his rhythm at the lighthouse. it's nice. peaceful even. rook makes no demands on him, and he has a bit of company through the long night. (company besides spite, who is generally quieter when rook is there, even though they cannot hear him)

then one night, rook curls up a little closer than usual. they drop their head on lucanis's thigh instead of beside it. his heart pounds in his ears, and every muscle in his body stiffens, including his thigh. the movement makes rook stir a little, and spite hisses at him

so he forces himself to relax his tense body. forces himself to match rook's even breathing. forces himself to think that nothing has really changed. rook doesn't know what they're doing. and they are... colleagues, aren't they? bellara often leans her head on neve's shoulder when they chat. taash smacks davrin on the back when he makes an impressive kill. emmrich pats harding's hand on the table and starts conversations with "my dear lace." lucanis has never worked with anyone besides illario before, but rooks insists they are all a team

so he accepts it (enjoys it?) when it happens again. and again. and again. he becomes adept at slipping out from beneath rook in the early hours (solid training for stealth and patience). he finds it even makes daily life with the team a little easier. he no longer flinches when bellara puts a hand on his back as she slides behind him in the small kitchen. he no longer jerks back when he reaches for the same roll as someone else

and one night, he is so comfortable, so lulled by the warmth of rook's body and their soft pattern of inhales and exhales, that he falls asleep himself

he wakes with a start not long after, heart in his throat. but he is exactly where he remembers being. he looks around wildly, but spite is simply crouched in front of rook's face, watching them sleep

"you didn't leave," lucanis murmurs but really asking "why? why didn't you leave?"

spite scoffs without taking his eyes off rook. "can't. would wake. rook."

it's a small comfort, but not enough. he and spite have not reached an accord at this point, and mistrust is still high. so he goes to the only other person he can think of. (not rook. he does not know how to speak about this to rook. about the silent comfort they have brought him, that he hopes he brings to them)

the next time he is in treviso, he pulls viago aside, and though he hesitates, he manages to ask if he knows about this quirk of rook's

viago stiffens, posture rigid, hands clasped behind his back. he doesn't look lucanis in the eye as he explains that rook sleepwalks in moments of stress, that if he just sits with them for a short while, he can tell them to go back to bed and they will. and as he walks away he mumbles that it may help to stroke their hair

that night, staring at the lock of hair that has fallen against rook's cheek, lucanis swallows his nerves and gently smooths it behind their ear. rook lets out a soft sigh and nuzzles closer against his leg, so he lets his fingertips linger. when he lifts them, it's only to turn his hand slightly so his knuckles can brush against their temple. he loses track of how many journeys his hand takes along the silken path, but eventually he lifts it and clears his throat

"rook," he whispers. he cannot seem to speak any louder. spite watches him with a sharp gaze. "you should go back to bed"

a barely there huff. a quiet grumble that may just be the couch shifting. but then rook sits up and then stands and then makes their way to the door

once it closes behind them, lucanis lets out a breath and runs his hand down his face. only then does he realize it's trembling

[karineverse]

Slides into your ask box once again because i am terribly bored in uni

Throws some confetti Ink with synesthesia !! Specifically the colour ones obviously

I don't remember if this was canon or not, i don't have a screenshot, but Ink being able to distinguish individual taste for his paints. The colour of paints (visual) stimulates his taste and smell, which in turn stimulate his emotions when tasted. Others cannot gain these stimulants from their paint

I like to imagine because of these mixed stimulants he doesn't realise others can't feel what he does until a little later probably by some dumb interaction. He describes emotions and taste using colour descriptions, you know the phrase "why so blue" ? They'd do that in a literal sense. "You're looking a little purple..." "I'm yellow!" < They say to Aster, who has no idea what the fuck they're on about

I have my own little list of what I think the paints taste like and their emotion but I'd love to hear your take on them if you have any!! I like hearing what other Creators think of the idiot

Wait that makes sense, I always liked the idea of him using colors to describe things just like that but I guess I just forgot about synesthesia... Woah

Also you're so awesome, you send asks and illustrate them too like how nice is that

[mellowtrashtrash]

FNaF World: Sister Location and Pizzeria Simulator finished!

Hey folks! I've had more characters in the works for a while now, and I've finally almost finished this row! Are you excited? I know I am! Let's get into it!

First, I elected to finish off the Sister Location animatronics, with the rambunctious scamps themselves...

The Bidybabs!

With all the wound-up energy of a pair of british schoolchildren, the Bidybabs are a welcome addition to the cast! These were a fun set of characters to make, and like last time, gave me a lot more practice animating multiple characters in one! In terms of animation, I endeavored to express the energy of a couple of silly kids roughhousing. This hurt animation features some walking, and while it is unusual, it was ultimately necessary for encapsulating the wobbliness of their stack. Like with the Minireenas, it was a tough decision whether or not to do an individual or a duo, but I knew it was going to be necessary for them to be a group in order to keep them distinct from the next character...

Electrobab!

This kid scares me. Someone find this kid a hobby. Preferably something non-conductive.

The neglected weird kid of the Sister Location Custom Night group, this overcharged infant is packed full of likely lethal electrical powers can put any pitiable poltergeist in this franchise to shame! Jumpscares? Hallucinations? Possession? That all pales in comparison to Electrobab's capacity for emitting immensely powerful controlled shocks! I guess it learned from how it was raised.

Now that we've finished off Sister Location's cast of oddballs, let's finish off the strange folks from Pizzeria Simulator! First up we have our unforgettable bowl of overcooked ramen...

Molten Freddy!

This noodly feller was quite a bit of fun to make. Rigging up all the wires was tough, but in the end I achieved exactly effect I was going for. And it's just plain fun to watch him go! For the main body, I was going to use a set of rigid bones to make it bend, but after some testing it didn't look very good. Too robotic, not silly enough. That was when I remembered the stretchy bone I'd used for Phone Guy's cord. I gave it a shot, and the resulting stretchy bouncy effect was just what he needed! The hurt animation is a little brutal-looking, but he'll probably be fine. These guys have been murdalized and melted down how many times now? They're troupers, they'll go through a thousand new marketable forms before they're finished!

Since everybody loved one bear so much, how about another Heeeere's...

Lefty!

The surprise puppet-trap himself! Lefty was a fairly simple one, as the character is largely a recolor of Rockstar Freddy. Nonetheless, I tried to give Lefty a distinct personality from Rockstar Freddy as best as I could. The animation direction for this character was very unnatural, disjointed, and jerky; like a dancing beartrap (or puppet-trap, hee-hee). In his hurt animation you can see the Puppet's eyes inside his detached jaw, dizzy from being spun around and stretched. I would be too.

I do not envy Charlie's situation, being stuck inside a robotic bear and forced to burn to death. Oh well, at least the darkest pit of hell is ready to swallow her greatest enemy whole— oh, he got out again? Why do we keep using fire?

Oh well, guess we've got...

Scraptrap!

Designing a cutesy version of this character is a tall, tall order. I did my best, and I think in the end it captures his design pretty well while remaining pretty simplified all-around. It's a little more stylized than I usually like to do, but I can't tell if that's on my part or if that was inherent to the character. He's not the most stylistically consistent of Scott's designs, even in his original FFPS appearance. In terms of animation direction, I decided to animate him like a bit of a cartoon villain. Exaggerated hunched posture, unbridled aggression when attacking, and shocked frustration upon being damaged. Fun animation tidbit, the skull inside his helmet moves its jaw with his. Look closely at his mouth and you can see it. Pretty spooky! Here's a behind the scenes look at his skull. Yikes!

That about does it for the scrap animatronics, though I've got another cooking up for next time, just you wait and see...

To finish us off, here's a remake of my Yenndo hurt animation! I decided the last was too generic!

Thanks for tuning in as always! I hope to bring you some more neat stuff soon! I'll catch you on the flipside!

[lilsciencequeen]

Thinking about how in Hadestown, yes Orpheus and Eurydice are cursed by the narrative but Hermes is too. Even more so I would argue. Time and time again, they have to watch these two fall in love and lose each other and there is nothing they can do to stop it.

It is clear from Come Home With Me, that Hermes raised or helped to raise Orpheus as their own. He's like a son to them, and they're even very protective of Eurydice. I don't know how any other Hermes plays it off, but Melanie La Berrie always looks to Eurydice for her blessing, wanting permission to tell the story again. Despite how it seems sometimes, they care and love for these two deeply. They want their story to be told. They want that happy ending for Orpheus and Eurydice.

During Epic III, Hermes can't help but look absolutely devasted when handing Orpheus his lyre/guitar because they know that even though he succeeds in fixing Hades and Persphone's relationship and bring the world back into tune, he'll lose his whole world again with just one moment of doubt.

No matter how many times they tell Orpheus what needs to be done and how to do it in Wait for Me (Reprise), it's never enough.

It will never be enough.

Orpheus will always turn, losing Eurydice.

Orpheus and Eurydice may be cursed but Hermes is cursed with remembering.