#the first question before the photo is RHETORICAL do Not try to answer it

[ratcontrolledracecar]

what the fuck is going on over in the mcu i've been watching this shit since i was a kid and like

WHERE IS SHANG-CHI IT'S BEEN YEARS???? AND WHERE'S BUCKY?? AND JACK RUSSELL?? AND YELENA?? WHAT WAS THE POINT OF ETERNALS IF YOU'RE NOT GONNA FOLLOW UP ON IT AT ALL?? WHY THE FUCK DO YOU MAKE REFERENCES TO THINGS IN AGENTS OF SHIELD (LIKE THE DARKHOLD) IF YOU DON'T WANNA ACKNOWLEDGE THE SHOW?

AND IF SOMEONE AT MARVEL IS READING PLEASE JUST DELIVER MORE MOON KNIGHT

[jessehart]

bigmandiego​:

-

Unlike what seemed like the rest of the group, Diego understood the need to orginize the group and make sure everyone was pitching in. It wasn’t as if he believed that they were going to be stuck here too long, this was a luxury ski resort, it wasn’t as if they were off the radar up here, so he wasn’t worried. But maybe it was just better to have something to do rather than sitting around and panicing when there wasn’t reallyy much to be panicking about. A bunch of wasted college students weren’t exactly the people that would be the most clear thinking, and the last thing they needed was someone trying to turn this into Lord of the Flies.

So, he dutifully, if not unenthusiastically, joined Jesse on their trek through the snow to find the chalet they were supposed to go to. Much like Jesse he really did not care if this was the right one or not, just  interested in getting out  of the snow and bitter cold. Not that it  was terribly warmer inside, but it was better than nothing.

He went along the opposite side of the hall, finding a supply closet that seemed to be open when Jesse managed to find an open room heading to join him inside catching the blankets tossed his direction. “Nice,” he said with a dry look in Jesse’s direction before giving a somewhat amused snort. “Let’s leave the pillow fighting to someone you’re more interested in, and try to figure out how we’re actually going to carry anything we find back to group.” A problem Diego had noted while trying to get through a snowbank on the way here. “I think there might be garbage bags in the supply closet across the hall…”

.

“Don’t sell yourself short, Diego,” Jesse laughed, more than happy to lean into this side of irritating. “My type could absolutely be a tight ass stick in the mud.” He pretended to think on that a moment, weighing it with a tilt of his lips. “Nah, you’re right, it’s not.”

He was laughing, though, the usual barbs gone from his tone. It was dark and cold and his nose kept running, the drip in the back of his throat a slow and steady burn he loved as much as he hated, and honestly? He couldn’t find it in himself to be anything but on top of the fucking world. 

He moved past Diego and into the hallway as if the other man hadn’t spoken at all. It wasn’t until he was out of sight that he called back, “I’m not hauling garbage bags full of blankets through the snow. We could fit maybe two blankets in a bag. How many are you planning on dragging through the storm, Thor god of Glad?”

The question might as well have been rhetorical as Jesse continued on his merry way, yelling out for anyone who might answer him and receiving no reply and reaching for the next doorknob. On the first turn, he thought it locked and nearly moved onto the next, but when he turned it the other way, it seemed to catch for just a moment before giving under his palm. The door creaked open and Jesse cocked his head. Strange.... but okay.

Inside he went, immediately heading for the beds, tossing the comforter towards the door before reaching for the pillows and doing the same with them. It was the fluttering that caught his eye first. Mesmerized, he watched as a photo landed delicately at his feet face down. A photo hidden in a pillow? Jesse’s grin stretched devilishly across his face. Was he about to see a nudy of one of his classmates? For shame.

Only, when he picked it up and turned it over, he thought his heart might have actually stopped. Confusion hit him first— sucker punched him, really. And then came the nausea. He blinked hard once and then twice only it didn’t clear.

Staring back at him was the smiling face of one Greer Morrison.

Except, her features had been crossed out.

Jesse’s heart pounded against his chest as he called out to Diego. “Uhhh, Fuentes? Get the fuck in here right now.”

[finelinevogue]

hiii ! could you write something about harry stalking y/n's Instagram but her account is private, so he sends a request and she accepts and she follows him back, and harry likes her pics (which aren't many) and tries to find out if she do you have a boyfriend or something?

this might be quite short but i hope this is alright for you;

“What’s the correct reaction I should use when Harry Styles requests to follow me?”

You asked your best friend, Heather, as you were both lounging on your bed. She was sat up against the headboard and you lay the opposite way around, holding you phone to the ceiling.

It was just another simple day for the two of you. You’d worked a long shift at the local supermarket and Heather had worker her long shift at the cat shelter, both of you now just having some down time to relax and regroup your thoughts before you even thought to start on dinner. Heather, your best friend and roommate, was an absolute tyrant in the kitchen which meant you were often the one to cook dinner. Tonight was shrimp risotto, if you could be bothered to get out of bed to actually make it. However you were no grounded to your bed more than ever, shocked with the current notification staring you square in the eyes.

“Why?” Heather laughed at you, not noticing your heavily serious face to your question, “you having your daily dreams over the man again?”

Okay, you didn’t have daily dreams… Nightly dreams, maybe. You had liked Harry for a while actually, perhaps since he had cut his hair for a movie he had done. You weren’t a huge fan of his and listened to his music occasionally - like when you were folding laundry or on a long train ride - but you weren’t dedicated to him. He was cute and his voice sounded really lovely. He was definitely the face you used in your nighttime scenarios, but you would never admit that out loud.

“No,” you briefly paused to find the right words to say, “because Harry Styles just requested to follow me.”

“You— What!” Heather sprung up from her position on the bed, but you stayed still and eyes fixed to your phone.

“Appropriate reaction?” You asked again, handing her your phone so she could see for herself.

“Um, ascending into heaven, I don’t know do I? The really question is why the fuck haven’t you accepted it?” She was quick to answer your question and even quicker to ask hers, looking at you as if you’d just told her you were born with only one tit.

“Maybe because it’s Harry Styles!” You exclaimed, sitting up and looking at her now the same way she had just done you.

“Babe, honey, that’s exactly why you need to accept him.” Tossing you back your phone you caught it as you looked to her. God, what was happening? You’d been stacking shelves at a supermarket 3 hours ago and now you were about to accept a follow request from Harry Styles - like the same man who you think about every night before bed and yet know barely anything about.

“Oh fuck it.” You clicked accept and then followed him back, switching your phone off and throwing it down onto the bed.

“Did you..”

“Yeah.”

“So…”

“Yeah.”

Then you started to freak.

It hit you that Harry Styles could see all of your instagram photos - even the ones you were tagged in. Then you questioned whether he would even bother to stalk you? Was he that kind of person? How did he even find you in the first place? You had 489 followers to his near 50 million, so it’s not exactly like he just saw you appear in his notifications - you didn’t even follow him until 30 seconds ago. Let’s say he did see your photos, what would he see? For starters there’s the photos of you and your parents dogs and then just your parents. There’s you on the beach and you in the snow. There’s you with friends and still some posted of people you didn’t like anymore. It was okay.

“Do you think he’s wanking off to that picture of you in your lingerie?” Heather broke the silence.

“What?” You looked at her baffled by such a question.

“You know? The one you just posted like two days ago because it was body positivity week at the gym?”

Fuck.

You’d completely forgotten about that photo and you scrambled quick for your phone. God, you couldn’t let Harry see you like that. You’d felt really, really, good when you’d posted it, dressed in your black lingerie from Victorias Secret, but now you were insecure that Harry could’ve looked at the photo and… well, vomited maybe?

“Oh no, no, no.” You repeated as you went back onto Instagram, only to freeze. “Holy fuck balls.”

If your mother heard the tone of your tongue from the past 5 minutes, she would have you strung up on her washing line by your toes. Okay not literally, but something similar.

“What? What’s happened?” Heather pressed, nosy to the current situation.

“He liked the photo.”

“He what?” Heather shouted, a shit eating grin on her face.

“Oh my fuck he liked the photo.” You put the phone on the bed and got up off to stand up, pacing whilst your rubbed your hands over your stressed temples. “He liked the look.” You repeated to yourself, trying to convince yourself that this was actually happening.

Harry Styles had seen a photo of you in your lingerie. That is not something you’d ever thought you’d ever say, but there’s the fact. Like he’d seen you - your body. You paced the length of your bedroom, completely in your own head wondering where you’d go in your life past this moment. Crawling under a heavy rock to live forever sounded pretty good right now though.

“Have you done freaking out yet?” Heather asked sarcastically, watching you pace with your phone in her hands.

“No. Yes. Maybe. Is this an acceptable reaction?” You stressed your hands through your hair and cupped your hand over your mouth in shock that this was genuinely happening.

“So I shouldn’t tell you that he’s also sent a direct message?” She asked rhetorically, making you stop wearing a track into your carpet.

“He…”

“Yeah.”

“Saying?”

“Do you want to sit down first or…” Heather asked, clearly concerned you weren’t handling this all very well.

“No. I’d rather just collapse afterwards.” You nodded your head, egging her to continue.

“Okay…” She rolled her eyes and returned her eyes to the screen to start reading out the message. “Y/N—”

“Oh jesus.” You interrupted, clutching onto your desk chair as your legs went weak and you had to sit down. Heather laughed at you before continuing, her eyes lighting up as she skim read the message.

“I hope you’re having a lovely day. I hope you don’t find my follow request or liking of your photos too creepy or forward, it’s just I think you’re really beautiful and ever since I heard about you I just had to know who you were. If you don’t want to reply, that’s alright I understand, but if you would like to know me a bit more as I would like to get to know you then feel free to call me or just message back. If, however, you are already seeing someone I apologise for this message to both you and your partner. Wishing you all the best, H. x”

Breathe check. Yes, still breathing.

“Y/N?” Heather asked, noticing you were struck still.

“Okay…” You let out a shaky breathe, doing some internal meditation to try and calm the buzzing of nerves that were rushing throughout your entire body.

“Y/N?” Heather snapped you out of your attempt of peace. “What do you want to do now?”

“He called me beautiful.” You smiled at her she smiled back, happy that you were happy.

“He also said he had heard about you from somewhere?” Heather asked, having picked up on that important bit of information.

“And he wants to get to know me.”

“Yes, okay lover-woman, let’s focus here.”

“Right, yes. Focus.” You nodded your head, still in a dreamy daze.

“Should we call him?” Heather asked.

“Are you out of your goddamn mind?” You threw your hands up in the air, which shocked you both. “Woah, sorry. Do you seriously think he’s going to want to listen to me paralysed at the lips? No.”

“So, text?”

“Text, yes.” You sighed, coming to sit on the bed next to her and draft a message back to the man who was about to change your life.

[hekateinhell]

7 and/or 18 💖

7. Which part of writing do you struggle with most?

answered here!

18. What is a line/scene you’re really proud of? Give us the DVD commentary for that scene.

This was one of the ones I was scared to get lol but I'll try! Don't get me wrong, flattery gets you everywhere with me but actually picking out something that *I* like from my own fics? Can't think of a thing tbh, so I went with the scene that's been the hardest one for me to write so far - just because the content is pretty heavy (for me), and it took a few changes and rewrites to get to where I was satisfied with it as a plot device.

(Our House, Chapter 3 spoilers)

Armand and a girl; maybe seventeen, eighteen years old. Beautiful, high Slavic cheekbones, smudged eyeliner accenting her light blue eyes, dark hair. Armand halfway behind her, his hands cupping her bare tits, fake vampire fangs in his mouth, his head turned slightly to mimic biting her throat.

"Eleni," Armand said.

And Lestat, he's there too. He's taking the selfie, pupils blown wide, his cheek pressed to the girl's head, blond hair everywhere, an arm going around her head to rest his hand on Armand's shoulder. Not inherently sexual, more familial than anything, the three of them laughing; a teen's photo for fun and mild shock value.

[So this was where I had to decide how exactly I wanted Armand to present the history of his relationships with his ex-girlfriend and Lestat to Daniel. We get a bit more from Armand's POV later, but it doesn't really expand beyond what we're shown here. This is what's relevant to Armand right now, and this is what he wants Daniel to know. The rest will come later (when I decide what the hell "the rest" is). One of the best writing tips a friend gave me is: even if you're writing from just one person's POV, you need to know what the other people in the scene are thinking.]

Armand passed the phone to him wordlessly, mentally checking out. Daniel could see it in the dimness of his eyes, in the tiredness of his shoulders. Emotional or chemical—something drug-induced? Daniel had no way of knowing.

[Concerned Husband Danny is my fave, this was one of his times to shine. I wanted to make sure he's hyperaware of Armand right now, not taking his eyes off him for a second.]

"Just like Paris."

"She's pregnant here," Armand reached up and tapped the screen. And, dear God, was that a great distraction or what?

[Oh shit! moment, hopefully for the reader and Daniel both.]

"Really?" Yours? went unsaid. Armand heard it anyway.

He nodded, barely. "We were so young... Just reckless, stupid street kids that had no way of knowing better. But I loved her, and she loved me."

[It was important to me that it's clear Eleni was a meaningful and formative romantic relationship in Armand's life, even though he's older and married to a man now. He's bisexual, and Eleni was truly his first love.]

"Is she still in France?" Daniel asked, perpetually curious to a fault. It was the reporter in him. He was an intelligent man, he'd already figured out the loaded implications behind a child Armand never mentioned to him before. Abortion, most likely, given how young they both looked.

"Eleni?" Armand arched an eyebrow, as if they'd been talking about anyone else.

Daniel nodded.

"Yeah. Yeah, she is," Armand smiled in the empty way some people have a tendency to do, "Cimetière des Innocents.”

[My baby boy is broken inside, and I needed y'all to know that. Also, Les Innocents name-drop!]

Damn. "I'm sorry, love." It seemed to Daniel he was saying that a lot lately.

[By this point, it's already been a couple months of drama, and Daniel's gotten one bombshell aside from this one dropped on his head tonight. He's a saint of a man, but every person has a limit before they start burning out and idk if y'all noticed... but Armand in this fic... he's a lot, okay?]

Armand sighed, "Do you know what she said?"

Rhetorical question, and he continued, "She said it was a miracle, that it was God himself giving us a second chance. Telling us to clean up our act, get clean, find other ways to survive, to provide. And I believed it too."

[This part was weird for me because I was trying to tap into what a girl who'd been raised with a Catholic mentality might think. I never said Catholic, but clearly, she was religious to quite a degree and my mind went to Catholic. Kind of trying to channel the CoD fervor into something else here, and also pull stuff from my own life experiences.]

He sighed again, "We were just kids." Armand looked and sounded a lot like a kid just then.

He took a minute to lean against Daniel's arm, playing with the zipper on Daniel's hoodie. Up and down, up and down. Zip, zip, zip. "Well, I guess God changed his mind."

[I feel like Armand is such a classic C-PTSD case in almost every universe I write him. I mean- he is in canon! And reverting to child-like comforting behaviors when confronted with a stressor/trigger can sometimes be part of that, so I tried to have it come out here - as well as emphasize the fact that he feels secure enough around Daniel to act that way in front of him in the first place, instead of retreating into himself and/or masking.]

Daniel gently massaged the spot below Armand's ear, silently urging him to continue.

"The week she was supposed to give birth; it was June, it was so hot already. She went to see her father. She said she wanted him to know, the man who had abandoned his daughter to chase the drink. Oh, he was furious. The neighbors heard him screaming—calling her a whore, a sinner, a useless junkie."

[This one was hard, and unfortunately, it's a common enough scenario in real life. Some children just are unwanted and unloved, and they're treated that way. Definitely hurt to write.]

Armand paused for a breath, letting his head loll against Daniel's shoulder, pressed his face against Daniel's neck as if he wanted to feel his pulse against his skin. "He pushed her down a flight of cement stairs. She hit her head, Danny."

[Originally, I was going to have Eleni die by suicide after having a miscarriage, but just seemed much more potentially triggering to an audience since miscarriages are something many people do experience (though I definitely do tag). Ultimately, I just didn't think it was necessary to go that route to achieve a similar impact. As a writer, this one almost hurts me more because the difference is that in this version, she was excited for her baby and her future with Armand, their little family. She wanted to live!]

Daniel wrapped an arm around Armand's chest and pulled him close, tight enough to hurt. Not lovingly, to comfort, but with the instinctual urge to get him out of harm's way, too many years too late.

And now Daniel knew, or at least he thought did—the reason, or a reason, why. 

A reason Armand had taken such a keen, uncharacteristic interest in the preparations for Lestat and Louis's daughter.

A reason why "introducing" Armand and Lestat had had an outcome akin to throwing a jungle cat and a rabid dog together in a cardboard box. 

A reason behind Lestat and Armand playing Russian roulette now, as Daniel understood it. Using the needle to simultaneously reconjure and numb the memories of who they’d been once upon a time—Lestat, without expectations and responsibilities, wild and free; Armand, about to have a family for the first time in his tragic life, in the worst circumstances possible. 

And, finally, the reason Armand seemingly lost his mind and started begging him for a baby one arbitrary evening in June, out of the clear blue fucking sky.

[Listen... this fic was originally going to be a fluffy, mildly hurt/comfort two chapters. Suddenly, I had to come up with a decent enough reason for Armand to be going off the rails. This is what my brain gave me.]

Armand sat up and reached for the phone in Daniel’s hand, swiping to the left and handing it back to him.

"My only blood family," Armand murmured, touching a blurry ultrasound image on the screen that didn't especially look like anything at all. "A little girl," he smiled, sweet and subdued, the glow remerging only to fade from his eyes, confirming what he knew Daniel had already deduced, “who died along with her mother.”

[Can't lie, this is the one and only time I have ever cried over anything I wrote. I imagined what the baby looked like, if Armand ever got to see her or hold her. I named her. I'm so sad lmao I'm so sorry to end on this note. But this was actually interesting to remember, and I miss this fic in a way I haven't in a while, so thanks for the opportunity to ramble about myself I guess!]

[tetralea]

To play a game

Pairing: dom!Tom Holland x reader

Word Count: 1.8K+

Warning: dom-sub dynamics, dirty talking, cum in panties, exhibitionism, semi-public play, vaginal sex

Summary:  You are attending at an event with Tom and the both of you likes to play dirty, so you ditch your panties for the night.

A/N: So,it was inspired by a conversation veeery long ago with @we--are---not--afraid​ also it kind of clashes with this ask: (P.S please at least say hi, next time because I’m not writing on demand)

The event was loud and as overwhelming as ever no matter how many times you did it. The red carpet walks, the interviews, the photos, it got easier over time but never less draining. The only thing what kept you on the edge was one specific man and the hurried promise he made before you got out of the car.  

‘I bet you are not bold enough do this event without your panties.’ Tom purred into your ear, his eyes and words challenging you.  

This is how it happened, your hands sliding under the dress which reached around your knees to find your panties and push it into Tom’s pocket. ‘And I bet you can’t walk around with my panties in your pocket without someone noticing.’ Your little head tilt and innocent eyes earned a groan and a dangerous glint in those brown eyes, but he didn’t say a thing.  

It has been an hour now at least and you felt yourself growing wet as the cool air brushed against your pussy. You knew your dress was long enough to cover you by any means, but it didn’t help your feeling of being exposed and absolutely aroused by doing all this small talk and posing while not wearing your underwear, let alone having them in Tom’s pocket. It was a dirty little secret for the two of you, which riled you up more and more by every minute.  

The first time you could finally talk to him again was before the dinner when he stepped to you, his fingers lightly touching your shoulder.  

‘Do you have a minute for me, darling?’  

With an apologetic smile you excused yourself from the group and started to follow him through the crowded room to an empty, dark hallway, curtains hanging from each side, giving you just enough cover for now. His fingers were interlocking with yours during the walk, only letting them go when he pushed you to the wall, getting tangled in a curtain a little.  

‘How are you doing lovie?’ His words were hushed, lips finding yours before you could have answered in a hungry kiss.  

‘Better than you, I'd say.’ The devilish smile on your lips and the way he gave himself away so easily earned you another groan before he was back kissing you silly. It was hot and heavy with need, need building from the moment you got out of the car a few hours ago. His hard on was painfully obvious as he stepped a bit closer, his full body pressed to yours now. Sure, it explains why at least one of his hands were in his pocket. Those tight, slim pants didn’t hide his erection very well.  

Between the heated sloppy kisses, Tom’s long fingers slipped under your dress. ‘Do you know how it felt watching you flirting with everyone and knowing you little pussy is bare under your pretty dress?’  

It was a rhetorical question, but he didn't give you time to answer anyway, his lips were on yours, kissing you in a way it made your head spin, your small whimpers lost in his mouth. ‘Lovie, you soaked even your thighs.’ Tom cooed, when his fingers run up on your skin, to find you completely roused and wet. The sound you made then his touch, even if it was light as a feather hit your exposed pussy lips was almost feral. ‘You know, originally I wanted to finger you here and go back to fuck you later, but I don’t think I can wait for so long.’ His mumbles along with his ministrations were too much to let you form any more coherent thoughts. ‘I think there is a storage room across the hall, what do you think?’ His question was sweet as honey in sync with the way he was petting your pussy, coating his fingers in your slick, pressing into you a digit only when he touched your gaping entrance.  

‘Yes.’ As embarrassing as it was this was the first and only word which come to your mind, to Tom’s amusement. He loved it, loved to make you so flustered and worked up you practically forgot how to form words and there were nothing left but those sweet noises only for him.  

It felt like it wasn’t even a minute later when the door of the small room clicked behind you. Tom was immediately all over you, his hands trying to feel as much skin as you could, being desperate to finally have you. ‘Turn around, lovie.’  

You did with a bit of a help, hands pressed to the hard, steel shelves, but you didn’t care. There was a bit of a pause while Tom undid his pants, a bit of a shuffling until he pushed them down till his knees, to pull himself free from his boxers. Lifting your dress with one hand and aligning his hot cock head with your entrance with the other shouldn’t have been this hot in this situation, but you couldn’t help it.  

‘Tom?’ Your voice was weak and impatient, when you didn’t feel the immediate fullness, you were expecting but only the delicious stretch at your entrance. He stopped.  

‘Ask for it, darling. You made me walk around with a hard cock all night, this is the least you could do to make it fair.’ 

The frustrated moan didn’t help, nor the almost inaudible please. ‘You know you can act like a little brat, and I could always just jerk off like this and leave you frustrated, so you better think about your next words carefully.’ With his words a sharp slap cut through the silence of the small space followed with your whimper when he slapped your ass a bit roughly.  

‘Tom, please.’ You tried, but already knew it won’t cut it. He tsked with his tongue, which didn’t mean any good for you, mostly when you felt his hand slowly moving starting to gently stroke his own cock.  

‘Last chance, baby girl.’ He warned and gave you another slap, his hand not speeding up yet.  

The last nick name seemed to wash away all of your remaining resistance, getting the obedient little sub out of you.  

‘Please, fuck me.’ Your words were so fast it was a miracle he heard them correctly.  

‘What is it?’ Tom teased, leaning closer to your seemingly to hear better, pushing his thick cock half-way in during the process.  

‘Please fuck me, please I need your cock!’ The words fumbled over your lips like prayer now, a shudder running down on your spine making you twitch around his cock.  

‘Look at you. You must be so desperate.’ Along with the soft, slow purr he finally pushed into you fully inch by inch. The mewl you made was primal, finally feeling the fullness and weight of his cock inside of you. 

‘Open up!’ It threw you off for a minute, but there was no time to think about it when he tapped on your lip, and something lace like touched them too. Tom stuffed your panties into your mouth without hesitation. 

Your eyes rolled back, any of your previous resistance thrown out of the window, melting into Tom’s touch, as he fucked into you. He didn’t start slow, knowing your body enough by now, to be sure you could take it. He did slow down tho after a few minutes, to pull you closer, to pepper sweet kisses onto your neck, to whisper sweet nothings into your ear. ‘Such a good girl for me.’ Tom cooed and bit your earlobe, before letting you go and starting to thrust hard and fast again.  

With your sounds muffled by your panties, lips and jaw stretching around them, eyes shut as you got lost in your pleasure, until you felt your high approaching. Your fingers left the selves which were warm under your palms now, to tap in his wrist twice.  

‘Oh, baby girl, look how good you can be. Are you there? Are you asking for my permission?’ His words were surprisingly coherent compared to the state he was. You felt his thrust becoming sloppy, his grip on your body tightening, his pants and moans becoming more breathy, he was also close.  

The answer for his question was a frantic nodding and a desperate cry trying to hold it.  

‘Good girl. You can come on my command when I hit zero.’  With that Tom started to count down from ten, making it almost the longest ten seconds of your life because he didn’t slow down, he was taking you with the same strength and speed as before, making it especially hard for you to hold back your orgasm. Now you were grateful for the small ruined piece of fabric in your mouth to hold back your desperate cries, moans and whimpers, because you were on the edge, your whole body shaking during those ten seconds.  

‘One, almost there.’ Tom’s voice was equally breathless and wretched. ‘Zero. Come baby girl, come on my cock. Come on.’  

To the permission and encouragement, you started coming immediately without even fully registering it. It took a few seconds to really reach your peak. Your mouth opened to a silent O while your body shook and convulsed under the force of your orgasm. The small, wet hole tightening around Tom and the unmistakable signs of your orgasm pushed him over too, his cock twitching and oozing his thick, warm cum into you.  

When it was over, he pulled out carefully, being aware of just how sensitive he made you. The small kisses on your shoulders sending shudders down on your arms, your eyes still closed, enjoying his closeness. He took your panties out of your mouth reaching down to use them to clean your thighs a little.  

‘Did you enjoy it?’ He asked, his lips finally finding yours for a soft, loving kiss. ‘This is what you had in mind?’ 

‘Yeah, yeah thank you.’  

‘Good, because otherwise you would be so punished at home for sticking this into my pocket. I was so fucking hard all night, darling.’ Tom softly schooled you while he turned you around trying to re arrange the both of you to a presentable state.  

‘I know and it got me so wet.’ Your tired giggle was an obvious sign of your satisfied state.  

‘Yeah?’ Tom looked at you with amusement. ‘Good, because you will wear a fresh pair now, right? And I know I’ll get hard again eventually, because you are running around with my cum in your pussy eventually dripping out of you and leaving a visible wet patch on your panties with all these very important people around us.’ As he talked you pulled out that fresh pair from your purse, he helped you to put it on, his fingers pressing the material to your entrance firmly. ‘Let’s go and enjoy the party while my hands are out of my pocket.’ 

Tag list: @terrifictomholland @itstaskeen @thegirlintheswivelchair @duskholland @sinisterspidey @tomsrebeleyebrow @annathesillyfriend @hazofmyheart @greenorangevioletgrass @worldoftom @augustholland @m-multifandom-multishipper

If you want to be or not to be tagged please let me know!

[queerasfact]

Book Review: Playing with Things: Engaging with the Moche Sex Pots by Mary Weismantel

I first came across Weismantel’s work when researching our podcast on Moche sex pots in 2018. For those of you who don’t know, the Moche were a people living on the north coast of Peru in the first millennium CE, probably most famous for their ceramics which depict a wide range of sex acts between humans, skeletons, and animals. We talked about them on our podcast particularly for what these pots can tell us about their understandings of gender.

When I was looking into this topic way back in 2018, I found Weismantel’s article “Moche Sex Pots: Reproduction and Temporality in Ancient South America” an interesting discussion of why the Moche may have chosen to depict the types of sex they did, and so I was excited when UT Press got in touch to let us know she’d written a whole book on the pots – so below is a review of how I found it.

If I had to sum up Wiesmantel’s writing in one word, I’d say it was refreshing. As soon as I started reading her introduction, I loved her frankness about some of the disappointing realities of modern scholarship; she dives in with a critique of both archaeology’s unwillingness to engage with the “racy” material of the sex pots, and sexuality studies’ tendency to “trot [non-Western examples of sexuality] out of the closet for rhetorical purposes” without really engaging with them. As someone who often researchers in these spaces and wades through poorly-thought out, Western-centric analyses of Indigenous gender and sexuality, it was such a relief to know Weismantel was aware of these issues from the get-go. And while the bar may be low, I was also excited to read a book that explored Indigenous sexuality and gender where the author had a clear understanding of, and correctly used, terms like intersex, sex, and gender, rather than throwing them around in confused and inconsistent ways, as I’ve so often found in this area of study.

Refreshing also describes Weismantel’s style overall. This is an academic work – thoroughly researched, footnoted, and at times quite theoretical – but Weismantel’s style remains accessible, easy to understand, and rarely mired down in jargon. I often sit with a pile of non-fiction books on my bedside table that go unread because by the end of the day I don’t have the mental energy to engage with them – but I got through Weismantel’s work over several cosy evenings with a struggle.

Onto the content of the book itself – it’s broken down into a literature review, followed by  several chapters about what Moche sex pots do – play jokes, make babies, give power, and hold water. From a queer history perspective, I found the chapter ‘Pots make babies’ particularly interesting. Weismantel explores the question that often comes up when talking about Moche sex pots – why do they show so many examples of anal sex between various figures, but so rarely show vaginal sex? In answer this, she makes a deliberate effort to eschew her own cultural understandings and expectations about sex and human relationships. Instead, she begins by looking at the pots themselves to see what activities or features the pot’s creators have chosen to focus on, and investigate why these may have been important in Moche culture. From a queer standpoint, this makes for a refreshing (there it is again!) look at sex and sexuality that – as Weismantel herself notes – doesn’t frame penetrative vaginal sex as the “norm” or centre the moment of conception, instead creating a wider view of life as formed and affected by a variety of human and non-human relationships.

And before I wrap up, I have to mention the photographs. In 2018, I had such a struggle to find clear photographs of the pots – which made trying to analyse them as pieces of visual culture very difficult. But here, the photos are clear, numerous, and taken from multiple angles! This book is honestly a game-changer in that regard.

As Weismantel does, I’ll end this review with a mention of the work of Peruvian artist Kukuli Velarde, whose artwork Plunder Me, Baby puts her own face onto pots reminiscent of those made by the Moche, labelled with the kind a racist and misogynist slurs she herself has faced due to her Indigenous ancestry. As Velarde explains of her works, "They all have my face for I had to become each of them to reclaim ownership…” I appreciated this ending to Weismantel’s book, a reminder of something that she acknowledges throughout the book, and that I think the fields of ethnography, archaeology, and anthropology often need to be reminded of - that Indigenous people continue to engage with objects such as the sex pots as their own cultural history, and to be affected by the way in which scholars choose to talk about them.

[hollandsmushroom]

Cum and Cookie Dough

Synopsis: Late night sloppy and sweet encounters. 

Masterlist

Send Me A Request

Word Count: 2,841

(Not my Gif)

Your phone brought you out of your sleep, its constant buzz for the past few minutes on your night stand, reaching out. The first thing you saw was the time, in big white text it said '3 A.M.' Below that was the contact photo of your boyfriend. You swiped across, answering the call and bringing it up to your ear.

"Why are you calling at 3 a.m?" You groaned, scrubbing a fist into your eye to try and remove the sleepy fog.

"Can I come over?" Cals shockingly perky voice responded.

"I mean, I guess, I'm fucking tired though, and I look terrible, why do you wanna come over?"

"I just wanna see my baby, is that illegal? And I'm sure you look stunning" You mumbled a no in response to the first question, although it was rhetorical, a blush spreading on your cheeks at the compliment. You listened to the silence before You heard a door click closed in the background of the call, alerting you to the fact that he was already getting in his car. "Can we bake cookies?"

"Sure, I'll get the stuff ready" you mumbled, pulling back the covers and shaking your head, trying to wake yourself up. "I'll see you when you get here, love you, bubba" you hummed

"I love you too, Bubbaloo" he responded in a sing-song voice before hanging up.

Your bare feet slid against the cool hard wood, sending a shiver up your body causing goosebumps to spread on your skin, you suddenly missed the comfort of your bed but you were excited to see your boy in a couple minutes.

Stepping into your kitchen you opened the cabinets, grabbing the ingredients for gooey chocolate chip cookies and setting them out on the counter and setting the oven to preheat. You put the kettle on to boil, digging through your cabinets to find your most caffeinated tea, knowing how Cal was and that you were not going to sleep for a long time. As you waited for the water to boil you started to doze off where you stood.

The click off of the kettle brings you back to the world, tearing the tea sachet open and putting it in the cup, pouring the boiling water over it tugging on the tab, watching as the water changed to a darker color as it sloshed softly at the side of the mug.

The sound of knuckles on wood made its way to your ears, shaking your head to perk yourself up again as you reached to the door handle, flipping the lock and opening the door, on the other side stood your boyfriend, loose sweatpants hanging low on his hips and a plain black tee shirt gracing his toned torso. You were wearing one of his shirts that you had stolen months ago and a small pair of sleep shorts, nothing underneath either piece. His soft chocolate eyes drank in your appearance before stepping over the threshold and engulfing you in his muscular arms. His lips met yours messily, sleep evident in both your beings. He pulled back, breath fanning across your face, brushing the hair out of your eyes.

"I've never seen anything more beautiful," he mumbled making you smile and giggle softly holding him close. The oven beeps from the kitchen alerting you to the fact it was now preheated.

"Ooh, the oven is ready!" He spoke excitedly, pulling your hand and guiding you to the kitchen.

"Here is the recipe," you giggled at his childlike demeanor, handing him the cookbook that you had set out earlier. The two of you began to bake, you chose to measure the ingredients because you didn’t trust him to do it right and him sifting them altogether in the bowl. When it came time to mix the wet ingredients in with the dry you put your hands in the bowl as Cal chose to stand behind you, hands slipping under your shirt and cupping your breasts as you worked. You moaned softly at his cold rings on your hot flesh, but the moan got louder as he tweaked your nipples between his fingers, lips going to your neck and sucking gently at the skin, you knew that he was going to leave marks but you were enjoying it too much to tell him to stop. You felt his teeth scrape over the marks he had just made as you started to form the dough into balls and place them on the baking sheet. 

“Cal” you groaned as his hand slid down your body and into the front of your short, dipping the calloused tips of his fingers into your rapidly dampening heat, he began to rub slow circles on your clit, your knees buckled under you as you gripped the counter, but Cal took your hand, sucking your fingers clean of all the cookie dough, his mouth was warm and wet, his teeth gently bumping into your knuckles, a slight pain rapidly soothed but the gentle suck of his mouth. You imagined it must be how his cock feels in your mouth. He took your fingers from your mouth, his lips returning to your neck, biting your earlobe. 

“You gonna cum? You gonna cum on nothing as my fingers grind your clit, let it drip down your leg?” 

“Fuck, Cal!” you screamed, as he ground his bulge into your ass, sucking harshly on your sweet spot and moving faster against your clit, your orgasm rapidly building. “Cal, more” you needed just a little more to send you over the edge and he immediately obliged, his free hand sneaking back underneath your shirt and tuggin on your nippled, rolling it between his fingertips and that was it for you, you came with a scream, your fingers gripping on to the counter as your legs shook, Cals hand between your thighs held you up as your legs couldn’t. Your abs clenched, body lurching slightly forward as his rough fingers kept you at a high for longer than you thought you could. 

“Cal, fuck, Cal” you spat out as you finally came down from your high, your breath coming in pants. Cal took his fingers from your pussy, they glistened with arousal in the low kitchen light, catching your eye, you watched his movements intensely.  He reached for the cookie dough bowl, scooping the final bit of leftover dough onto his two fingers and splitting them apart, cum and cookie dough on each finger. He brought one finger to his own mouth, sucking it clean and releasing a satisfied noise before offering you his other finger which you gladly accepted. It tasted of chocolate and sugar but there was the slight tang of your cum mixed in with the uncooked ingredients. 

You turned around in Cal’s arms, looking him in the eye as you felt his dick press against you, you felt the need to have him, nearly insatiable, the way his pubes tickled the tip of your nose and how soft he felt in your mouth. You held up a finger, signalling him to give you a moment as you slipped from his grasp. Grabbing the baking sheets and placing them in the intensely hot oven before turning back to your wonderfully horny boyfriend who had jumped up and was now sitting on the counter, legs spread and bulge evident as his eyes devoured every inch of you, the rapidly darkening marks on your neck that he had given you, the glisten on your thighs from where you had began to drip, god it all made him want you more. You positioned yourself between his thighs, nails scraping along his sweatpants covered thighs as you got nearer his cock. You looked up at him from between his thighs, eyeing his lip caught between his teeth, holding in moans that built in his throat. You stood up, his face covered with confusion as you tugged his lip from between his teeth. 

“I wanna hear you moan, baby” you whisper, your eyes boring into his, leaning in to kiss him gently, eyelids fluttering closed as your lips meet. “Never hold back again, okay?” you hum as you fell back down so you were mouth level with his cock. You felt the heat radiating off of the warm ove, the cookies baking inside releasing a delicious smell but all you could think about was Cals cock in your mouth. You ran your hand over his bulge, a small whimper coming from the back of his throat at the tender touch. You bit him gently through the cloth, eliciting a moan from him, encouraging you to do more. You reached for his waistband hooking your fingers and pulling down, letting his cock spring free in front of you. Reaching for his hard on, you traced a gentle line up one side, following the pattern of his veins before getting to the tip, you felt as he squirmed under your touch. Without warning you took him into your mouth, tongue swirling around the tip before you went deeper, his tip touched the back of your throat causing you to gag, the sudden contraction of your throat around him made his hips buck upwards, cock going even further down your throat. Your fingernails dug into his hip bone as you saturated to bob your head up and down, his dick hitting the back of your throat with every downward movement. 

“Fuck, Y/n you feel so good, so fucking good,” he moaned, his head falling back and hitting the cabinet, but he didn’t care, his fingers going through your hair. You felt him twitch against your tongue, alerting you to the fact that he was close to cumming. You pulled back, wiping the built up spit from around your lips and look at Calum through your eyelashes. 

“I want you to cum in my pussy” you groaned.

“I want that as well” Calum hummed and just as he was slipping off the counter and grabbing your waist you jumped back. 

“FUCK” you screamed making Cal freakout

“What? Are you okay? What happ-”

“The cookies!” you yell grabbing the oven mits and opening the oven, a cloud of smoke exiting the oven and tainting your vision. You reached in once you could see well enough and pulled the tray of charred treats out. 

“Did you set it on fire?” Cal asked, trying to look over your shoulder. 

“No, they aren’t on fire, they are just burnt to all hell,” you mumble, greatly disappointed at your failed baking endeavor, “Also it wouldn’t have just been me who set them on fire, this” you gestured between the both of you and then to the cookies “was a team effort.” Calum laughed as you set the cookies down, turning the oven off. His hands found your waist, squeezing your hips and pulling upwards signaling for you to jump, which you did. 

“I can think of another team effort I want to do with you” he spoke, leaning into your lips.

“That wasn’t as hot as you thought it was but I love you anyway” you giggle, crashing your lips to his swollen pink ones. His hands on your ass, squeezing the supple flesh and holding you tight to his chest, he walked you both to your bedroom, never leaving from the fight between lips, teeth, and wandering hands. 

The both of you fell onto the bed, Calum hovering over you as his lips stayed on yours, fingers slipping underneath the fabric of your shirt and pulling it up to just above your breast, as soon as the mounds of flesh were uncovered he ducked his head down and took a nipple into his mouth while you finished removing your shirt, as well as awkwardly wiggling out of your shorts, while treasuring the feeling of his lips sucking your pebbled nipples. He pulled back, taking in your naked state, his cock somehow getting even harder as he took in your swollen lips, dazed eyes, and hickey covered neck. He quickly removed his pants, leaving him in just his shirt and you couldn’t help but think of Winnie to Pooh, you giggled as his eyes looked at you to as if he was asking what was funny but instead of answering you stuck your foot out, bunching the fabric between your toes and pulling upwards, effectively removing his shirt from his body. 

“I didn’t know you could do that” he mumbled as he leaned down reattaching your lips with his. 

“I am full of surprises” you mumbled against his full lips. You felt his cock press between your lips, the head teasing your entrance and a moan escaped your lips. His hips eased slowly till you were hip bone to hip bone, every inch of his cock sheathed inside of you, you could practically feel his cock pulsing against your walls as you clenched around him. 

“Fuck, baby, so warm and wet,” he groaned against the shell of you ear as he drew his hips back before pushing forward and into you again. It almost felt like it was too much, how his skin felt slick with sweat as his body gilded against yours, how hot his breath felt, how your walls stretched around him as he pulled in and out of you. You felt like you were on fire, every nerve in your body aware of his gentle touch as he continued to thrust, a familiar heat developing in the bottom of your belly, right where it met his, where your gentle flesh touched. Your toes curled as you dragged your nails down Calum’s back. 

His hands explored your body, running up and down, feeling every curve and bump of your soft body beneath him, there was exhaustion on your tongue and the faintest taste of cookie dough. He felt your nipples rub against his chest, their hardness tugging against his taught flesh as he felt muscles in his lower belly clench. 

“Baby, I’m close” he hummed, continuing to thrust in and out of you, his rate picking up ever so slightly as he felt your pussy clench around him more rapidly. 

“Cum with me, Cal,” you cried as you arched your back into his chest, your fingers tugging at the hair at the nape of Cal’s neck. You felt Cal cum within you, it felt warm and in an odd way comforting, you felt closer than you had ever been. After you had both rode out your highs Cal rolled off of you, both of you in silence as you caught your breath.

As you both lay exhausted in your bed, the smell of burnt cookies still wafting throughout your house but it mostly reeked of sex now. Reaching out you intertwined your hand with Calum’s, turning your head to look at him and finding him already looking at you. 

“Hold my hand and don’t let go” he said in nearly a whisper, squeezing your fingers between his.

“I'm going to have to go to the bathroom at some point, Cal” you giggled, his face mocking extreme hurt. 

“Why can’t you promise me forever?” he cried dramatically, pulling you into his chest and laying on leg over both of yours so you were fully engulfed in his embrace. You laughed at his dramatic antics, enjoying simply existing with him. His fingers traced up and down your back gently soothing you into a nearly asleep state. 

“Baby,” Cal whispered into your hair and you hummed in response. “We have to get ready for bed” he reminded you, pulling you up into a sitting position. You nodded your head slightly before standing up, reaching out for Cal and he grabbed your hand standing with you. You stood in front of the mirror when the dark marks on your neck caught your eye.

“CAL!!” you shouted as you spun to look at him, your hand on your neck touching the tender flesh with the tips of your fingers. 

“Yes babe?” he asked sheepishly, as though he didn’t know what you were talking about.

“How am I supposed to cover these up? There are so many of them and they are so dark!” You exclaimed, slightly exasperated but also very entertained. 

“I'm sure you will figure out a way” he spoke, wrapping his arms around you, continuing to look at your reflection in the mirror. 

“So when can I see you again?” he grinned at you through the mirror, you turned around to meet his gaze, raising your hand and covering his eyes with your palm.

“Right now.” you giggled as you pulled your hand away causing him to laugh at your childish antics. You finished brushing your teeth in silence, Calum using the toothbrush that he kept at yours, the occasional glance to one another making you both smile widely. Once you were both ready, you wandered back to your bed, the sun peeking from beneath the curtains as you finally settled down, falling asleep in each others arms right as the world began to wake up.

Hope yall enjoyed!

@major5sosstan​

[stxrshxpxd]

thats what you get for sleeping with the enemy x 90s!liam

pairing: 90s liam gallagher x reader

word count: 935

warnings: none

alright i wanted to write this concept again (wrote it on hessohigh) cause this oasis line is so fucking hot. and the prompt that liam is jealous of damon and secretly in love with you is just *chefs kiss*

i hope ill get back into writing longer better written things but lmao i hope this little fic is fine for now

* * *

I had definitely seen Liam upset before, but it had never been directed at me. The atmosphere was as cold as the beer he had just handed me. Not a word had been spoken, not even a greeting at the door.

I let out a short laugh at his weird mood as I followed him into his kitchen.

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” he finally spoke and turned around abruptly, leaning against his counter as he drank from his bottle and looked away.

“Is Noel being a dick again?” I pouted excessively, trying to gain, at the very least, eye contact. It seemed a grin or a chuckle was too much to ask for at the moment.

“No,” Liam snapped and began studying his bottle in detail. I watched him twist it around in his palm and pretend to read the label with a lowered head.

“Liam, I can leave if you don’t want me here,” I chuckled again, starting to feel really odd about standing in the middle of his kitchen with an ice cold beer in my hand and an even colder Liam in front of me.

“No,” he said quietly, his neck seeming to have grown stiff in its lowered position. I stayed for a moment in silence and waited for an explanation. I figured he wasn’t going to give one, but then he spoke again.

“I know where you’ll go if you leave.”

“Liam, can you look at me?” I asked in a slightly annoyed tone. He listened to me and looked up finally. It wasn’t much help though, as his face was emotionless and impossible to read.

“I would probably go back home,” I laughed, still confused.

“You’d go to Damon’s,” Liam said at last.

A small chuckle bubbled inside me, purely at the absurdity of the situation. There were many things I couldn’t wrap my head around. How did Liam know that I had slept with Damon the other night? Why was he so upset about it? Why did he care?

I made a face that I couldn't explain the emotion of, trying to think of the right question to ask.

“How-” I finally began, and Liam cut me off immediately.

“Every single tabloid.”

I stayed quiet and Liam kept talking, as he placed the bottle on his counter and wiped his cold damp palm on his jeans.

“Fucking loads of photos of the two of you snogging in some dirty pub.”

“Okay, well-“

“You slept with him?”

It had been the first time we had met properly. Being friends, with certain benefits, with Liam meant I had run into Damon a few times. We had never had a real conversation though, until the other night. The conversation in question had quickly turned physical and I had ended up waking up on top of his sheets, and under his arm, the next morning.

Had Liam not been so obviously hostile about the subject, I would have had no problem telling him the truth. But his frown made it almost impossible to answer his question, even though we both knew the answer.

“I mean…”

“Was he any good?”

“Why do you care?” I asked back and placed the bottle down on Liam’s kitchen table. He turned silent again. He stayed leaning against the counter with his one ankle casually crossed over the other.

“I’m not your girlfriend, am I?”

The word girlfriend hung heavier in the air than any other words that had previously been spoken. It was a rhetorical question, but I found myself wanting him to answer it. Granted, I didn’t know what I wanted the answer to be.

“Fucking- I don’t know,” he cut himself off and tossed glances around the room, avoiding eye contact again.

“Well, I’m not,” I stated, a little too harshly. “You haven’t asked me to be your girlfriend. You don’t seem to want me to be your girlfriend. Do you want me to be your girlfriend?”

Every time I repeated it the word got heavier and bigger and Liam seemed to hate it.

“I want…” he began in a loud, upset tone. “You.”

His answer was vague, and as much as it annoyed me, it also pained me in a very different way.

He stopped leaning against the counter and in a swift movement he was standing right in front of me. His large hands held my waist firmly and one deep exhale of his fell on my nose.

“That’s not an answer to my question, Liam.”

Playfulness had made its way back into our repertoire and I realised how much I had missed his smug grin. It sat confidently on his lips and I felt it on mine as he kissed me. I knew Liam quite well, and I knew he was currently trying to cover up his emotions.

“I want you..” he echoed and tried his best to conjure up a better answer. “..to only want me.”

“In what ways?” I teased him further and tugged on his washed out Beatles tee.

“All of them. Especially the ones that make you forget about blonde little art school snobs.”

Liam’s fingertips continued to dig deeper into my sides, pushing all my right buttons. I was pushing all his buttons as well as I let my palms slide up inside his shirt slowly.

“Drama school,” I corrected, and Liam shut me up with an annoyed grunt embedded in a harsh kiss.

“Forget about him,” he demanded while our noses stayed pressing against each other.

“Consider him forgotten,” I promised as my hands reached his chest and I planted another kiss on his lips.

[jeongjaebae]

Maybe we'll just keep fallin'

⇢ Juyeon x reader, 3.4k, exes to lovers ⇢ A reunion at an amusement park reminds you of what it feels like to fall.

You've never hated Eric more than at this moment.

He gives you a big smile right when he sees you walking towards where the group is gathered near the entrance of the amusement park, and then runs towards you with his arms stretched out to squeeze the breath out of you.

"Hey," you greet with an attempt at a smile, hoping he doesn't notice the way your mood suddenly falls. "Long time no see."

"Y/N, I've missed you so much!" Eric's hug is even tighter than the last time you've seen him—a clear indication that he's been working out in college because those arms are even stronger as they lift you in a spin that takes you by surprise.

This amusement park trip would've been a perfect excursion on this perfect sunny day; a reunion of friends after a few years and a number of kilometers apart. And you had indeed been looking forward to it up until this point, having excitedly packed your bag and planned your outfit the night before.

However, no one had told you that he would be here too.

You knew it wasn't Eric's fault for inviting the both of you though, for he probably doesn't know about what happened. And when you join the rest of the group, it becomes quite obvious that none of them knew about it. It's as if they were all frozen in time, in the same spot as they stood all those years ago, back when your memories of this very amusement park had been overflowing with feelings for him.

It's not Eric's fault because Juyeon's Instagram remains untouched. Still filled with old pictures of the two of you long after what happened.

"It's nice to see all of you again," you say as you reach the others, looking at each of them one at a time. You wanted nothing more than to avoid looking at Juyeon the entire day, but it's something you couldn't get out of if you wanted to keep pretending everything was fine.

Juyeon was the first one you'd spotted from afar, having immediately recognized his all too familiar figure. But up close, he seems to have changed quite a bit. Like Eric, he definitely bulked up and is no longer super skinny, and then there's the way his skin glows and how his hair falls into place perfectly even with the wind blowing against it. And who wears such nice clothes to an amusement park? He's so stupidly perfect and unaffected that it pisses you off. The only thing that gives you a bit of satisfaction is seeing how he immediately stiffens after seeing you.

Maybe it would be easy to remember that he's no longer the boy you once loved when he seems so different now.

"Alright, let's go!" Eric shouts.

You knew that it was going to be a very long day.

***

"What's wrong? You don't like rollercoasters anymore?" Jacob asks. He raises an eyebrow at the way you eyed the ride all too warily.

You'd joined the line with the rest of them but there's a sense of dread in your steps that hadn't been there before. And while it wouldn't be your first time on this ride, the huge drop no longer seemed as appealing as it once did. Maybe you've developed a bit of a fear.

"I just hate the feeling of falling now," you say, then shrug when Hyunjae shoots you a strange look. "People change, I guess."

When your eyes flicker over to Juyeon intentionally, he's already staring at you.

Sometime while in line, the others all pair up with their seatmates, leaving you and Juyeon at the back together. Maybe it would've reminded you of the time they intentionally left you together when trying to set you up, but things are different now. It annoys you now.

You sigh. "Let's just get this over with."

As you climb into your seat with Juyeon following right behind you, suddenly you get an idea.

"Here, let me get this for you." You shoot him a smile before grabbing the safety bar and pushing it down on him as far as it would go, locking him into the seat with a click. It's much tighter than it needs to be and probably digs into his stomach if his grimace is any indication. Perfect. "Enjoy the ride!"

Then you walk out the other way. Leaving him without a seatmate on the rollercoaster.

A look of utter disbelief spreads on his face and you simply laugh before heading to the exit, where you would wait for his ugly photos to come out. Not that he could ever be ugly, but one could still hope.

As the rollercoaster takes off and he's still glancing at you looking betrayed, there's no time for guilt. Because he was going to go on the ride anyways, you tell yourself. What difference did it make whether it was with or without you? And besides, strapping him in tighter could've been to ensure his safety; it's almost funny how the things we do for the people we love actually end up hurting them the most.

Several minutes later, Juyeon comes back with his hair dishevelled and a frown on his face. Bothered, but still silent. You count that as a win because unfortunately for you, his photos turn out looking just fine. In fact, they turn out all too similar to the set you once carried around in your phone case—the same ride and the same expression, only the seat beside him hadn't been empty in that one.

He doesn't say anything as you take out your phone to quickly snap a photo of the preview on the screen, calling him ugly the entire time anyways.

The loud noises and flashy lights in every direction try to grab your attention as heading to the next ride has you walking through all the carnival games in the park. Prizes are dangling at every stall, the smell of colourful snacks and the cheerful voices of children filling the air. For a while, you don't mind it when Juyeon falls into step beside you at the back of the group.

Until his hand accidentally brushes yours. And his touch sends you reeling.

"You okay?" his eyes flash with concern. He hangs back to wait for you while the rest of the group continues on without notice.

"Yup," you slap on the most dazzling fake smile you could muster. "Never been better."

It was a close call; for a second you thought your resentment towards him faltered like your feet did.

They've stopped at a beanbag toss game where Hyunjae points out how much Sunwoo looks like the raccoon plushie hanging in the section of prizes, and Changmin is taking bets that Sangyeon's bad luck would make him lose every game he plays. Juyeon bets against it. You bet for it.

The man running the game gestures dramatically, beckoning your group over. "See something you like? Step right up! Only three tickets to win the biggest prizes in the entire park."

Normally you would've walked away. Everyone knows that carnival games are rigged so there was no point in wasting your tickets, but once again, an idea occurs. Three tickets to get a chance to hit your ex? Hell yeah, you were definitely in.

The man gives you a wink as you go to hand in your three measly tickets, with Juyeon following closely behind. You had a feeling he would participate too, though you don't know why.

As you settle into your spot at the counter, you realize that the booth is quite empty. None of your friends are there anymore, somehow having disappeared so suddenly without a trace—leaving you alone with Juyeon once again.

"Why are they always putting us together," you mutter under your breath.

"Because they don't know about—"

"Yeah, no shit." You roll your eyes at him. Why was he answering a rhetorical question anyways? "Whatever. Let's get on with the game already."

When the game starts, Juyeon is oblivious beside you as he concentrates on the distance to the target. Competitive as usual, you assume, though this time it wouldn't be for the purpose of winning you a giant plushie like he did before. And the old you might've tried to get a good score to impress him, but the new you isn't like that anymore.

You almost feel bad when you take a step away from the booth and gaze at the back of his head. There's a sense of hesitation because does he really deserve this? Getting your revenge when he's not even looking is a little too harsh isn't it? But you quickly wipe those thoughts away. One beanbag to the head isn't going to make up for all the times he promised not to break your heart yet ended up doing it anyways.

Juyeon whips around and gives you a hard stare after your beanbag successfully strikes the back of his head and then lands at his feet. Bullseye!

"Oh, did I hit you?" Your voice drips with a sarcastic sweetness. "Oops, sorry."

The rest of your beanbags are tossed messily without really caring where they land now that you've accomplished your goal, and his shots seem too distracted after getting hit.

He remains impassive as the two of you find your way back to the rest of your friends who appear just as suddenly as they disappeared.

"That was a nice shot." Hyunjae gives you a high-five. The way Juyeon glances at him sharply almost makes you burst out laughing. "Too bad you didn't win a prize."

You don't tell him that it might be even better than winning a prize. "You saw that? But where did you guys go?"

"Oh um, Eric kind of had an emergency. In the bathroom." Hyunjae gives you a wry smile then takes off before you could ask more.

You stick with Sunwoo for the rest of the day, clinging onto him so closely that he has no opportunity to leave you with your ex again. He occasionally gives you questioning glances and you feel slightly embarrassed; it wasn't your intention to make things awkward, but surely your friends should've all sensed something strange by now? Surely they couldn't still see you and Juyeon as a couple?

The last jab you took at him was on the spinning teacup ride, a final ride at the end of the day just as the sun was setting. The rest of your group had split themselves equally into two teacups, leaving no room for the two of you though you could see through the way they intentionally sprawled themselves across the seats to fill up the space.

So once again, you were left with Juyeon. But this time, you don't complain because you had another plan up your sleeve.

As soon as the ride starts along with the horrible carnival music, you're grabbing the wheel at the center and turning it as fast as you could. It makes the teacup spin and spin, round and round until the rest of the world is a blur of lights and colours around you. Somehow it makes the teacup feel all too small. It's as if you and Juyeon were the only ones existing as everything else blends together.

"Y/N, stop," he shouts at some point, but you pay no attention as your hands continue to move the steering wheel mechanically. "You're going to get dizzy!"

And he's right. Because eventually the teacup slows to a full stop, but the world continues to spin and prevents you from getting to your feet and walking out.

"Are you okay?" Juyeon reaches for you then pulls back at the last moment. "Why did you spin it so much?"

Just seeing the way he looks perfectly fine standing there makes you feel the contents of your stomach churn. His perfect face and his perfect hair and his perfectly indifferent expression. Had your plan backfired? At this point, could anything you do even affect him the way his presence affected you so much?

You attempt at getting to your feet again and it just barely works this time. "Ugh, why aren't—you dizzy—"

"You spun it that hard just to get me dizzy?" Juyeon's voice gives no hints to what he's thinking.

"Shut up."

His touch stings when he ends up wrapping an arm around you, holding you up as you walk out of the ride together. Usually you would've thrown him off and pushed him away, but in your state of trying not to die, you give in and let him guide you to a pavilion with some picnic benches.

"Sit here."

It's quieter here when you're out of the crowd. A little easier to breathe. You focus on the way the air tastes, cooler now that the sun has gone down but still lingering with the sweetness of cotton candy from a nearby vendor. The world slows down and finally stills under your feet, and the waves of nausea quickly recede.

"Why are you doing all this?" Juyeon blurts, and you can finally see something underneath those unreadable eyes of his. The whole day he's put up with your antics without ever saying anything, but now you could see the blaze the lies just beneath the surface.

It feels like a taste of victory.

"Doing what?"

"You know what."

"I don't know what you're talking about," you say carefully.

He gives an exasperated sigh, pacing around in front of the bench you sat at. "Do you hate me that much?"

"I—"

Yes, you wanted to say. Because hating him has never left your mind for the past few years. Because you did want to resent him. To hurt him the way that he hurt you when he decided to cut off all ties with you so your long-distance relationship wouldn't hold you back during college. Maybe he'd thought it was the right thing to do but it was such a stupid reason and he was so stupid and—it all hurt. So yes, maybe you'd imagined getting your revenge someday when you met him again.

But doing all those things today didn't make you feel any better and seeing him like this is different from what you'd imagined.

Juyeon's steps finally stop, and he sits down on the bench beside you. "If you do, it's okay. I get it. I would hate me too."

A silence settles in between you and the crickets in the background are almost too loud. The last of the sun's fading glow surrender to a blanket of darkness that contrasts with the warm glow of the fairy lights in the small pavilion. Being here in any other context might be romantic. It reminds you all too much of what happened the first time.

"Why?" you ultimately ask despite already knowing the answer. "Why would you hate yourself?"

"For hurting you. For even thinking that we'd be better off apart because the past four years have only made me miserable with regret," he admits. "So yes, hurt me. Let out your pain." He pounds on his chest a couple of times and then stretches his arms out, waiting. "I can take it. Just don't hurt yourself."

"Juyeon..."

The amount of times you'd wished to hear those words over the years. He did call that one time, though your roommates had taken your phone and blocked him before you could get a chance to find out what he might've said. It was something that you'd wondered about during the times you'd drank a little too much, when you'd cried over nothing, when the feeling of falling had become falling into the depths of darkness instead of falling in love like it once was.

Maybe now, you're finally getting your answer.

Your fists are weak where they collide with his chest repeatedly, one after another, as if doing so would make his heart hurt as much as yours did. And he just takes it.

But then he's wrapping his arms around you, pulling you close until you give in. Until you completely melt against him. Until there's the warmth of his body against you and the tears that slip down your cheeks land on his shirt.

"Y/N, you have no idea how much I missed you," he whispers, breath coming out against your hair where he runs his hand through like he did before. "I'm sorry. For everything."

His scent enveloping you as he holds you, the dim glow of lights above you—it all reminds you of what happened all those years ago at this very place. It had been the same park and the same friends as today, but the exhilaration was from the way he grabbed your hand to pull your closer, not from being up high in that swing ride. The dizziness you'd felt was after he kissed you for the first time, and not from some spinning teacup ride. And when had the heart fluttering feeling of falling been from falling in love, and not simply from a rollercoaster ride?

But soon you do find yourself falling again.

It's not like the first time he kissed you here, when sparks fly and the world spins and your heart pounds so hard you thought it would burst. This time when his lips are on yours and he fits against you so perfectly, it's like coming home after being too far for too long. Everything feels so familiar yet new, like rereading your favourite book and rediscovering all of your favourite passages as you relearn each line and curve of his body. He may be different from what you remembered from all those years ago, but the way his gentle hands cup your cheeks, the brushing of his knees against yours, the way you can taste the salt of tears and faint sweetness of cotton candy on his lips. Everything is still so distinctly him, something that even the space and time between you couldn't ever change.

"Lee Juyeon," comes out in a whisper against his lips as you pull back to catch your breath, "you're so stupid."

"Only when it comes to you." He breaks into a smile, the first genuine smile that you've seen all day and it seems to light up the world. "I'll make it up to you, I promise. Even if it takes me the rest of my life."

"You're making this sound like a proposal."

Juyeon gives a choked laugh. "Um, not that I would be against it, but let's take this one step at a time first, yeah?"

And when you look at him, truly look at him, this time you can see the same boy you loved for all these years. You let those eyes draw you in and finally let yourself sink into the memories that you kept pushing away and burying. There's a tinge of pink on his cheeks and they're hot under your fingertips as you reach to pull him in again and—

"It's about time," a booming voice suddenly interrupts, making the two of you spring apart. Eric claps as he walks into the pavilion joined by the rest of the group, a mischievous smile on his face.

"It only took them all day," Sunwoo rolls his eyes. "I was dying over here when Y/N started following me around. Totally deserve an Oscar for my acting today."

"Hey, that's not true! I definitely noticed you giving me weird looks."

It's not surprising that your friends had known about the breakup after all, though you just hadn't expected them to have known even before this trip. The deja vu takes you back to the last time you were here, how your first kiss as a new couple was nearly interrupted by Eric's cheers and Sunwoo's expressions of disgust.

"Before you start freaking out—no, nobody told us," Eric says. "Nobody needed to because it was so obvious. We only pretended to not know in the hopes that you'd finally put each other out of your misery."

"And while it's good that you guys did, the highlight of this trip has got to be watching Y/N bully Juyeon all day," Hyunjae bellows and nods towards Juyeon. "I don't know what you did to deserve that, but you probably deserved it."

Soon there are sounds of laughter filling the pavilion and it makes your heart feel full in a way that you hadn't felt in a long time. As if there had been a weight you didn't even know you had on you, and now it's been lifted off your shoulders and you finally feel light enough to join in with their laughter.

As fireworks fill the night sky and Juyeon intertwines his fingers with yours on the walk back, it quickly becomes clear that the falling back together was as easy as it had been the first time.

[neonacity]

Paubaya Chapter 3: Johnny x Reader

Paubaya (v) - a Filipino word which means to entrust something or someone to another; to give something away.

Pairing: Johnny x Reader

Themes: angst, single parent au

TW: cheating

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

-----

"Jiwoo! Don't run too far, okay?"

I laughed as my son launched himself towards the wide expanse of the park without even looking back at us, his little feet padding excitedly on the grass as he tugged on his kite. Beside me, Doyoung gave a breathy chuckle as he took a break from finishing his slushie just to capture the moment with this phone. One of the perks of going into "family dates" like this with him is that I get a ton of aesthetic photos—something I admit, I'm not particularly good at taking--at the end of the day. The man is just so naturally good at it.

"I'm going to post this in my account, okay?" He asked, though we both know it is a rhetoric question. We both took a seat on the nearest bench, my eyes following my son who was trying his best to launch his kite to the sky.

"You'll have people asking if he's yours again, but go ahead. It's not like I can stop you."

"They can think whatever they want. I don't really care," he answered off-handedly as he worked on editing his latest shot of Jiwoo before uploading it. I sighed and leaned back, stretching my legs in front of me.

"Doei, at this rate you wouldn't be getting a girlfriend. You're basically cock-blocking yourself."

He looked up at me with his signature sassy slash ‘I don’t care because I am dead inside’ look.  

"Who says I am looking for one?"

I rolled my eyes and jokingly pushed him and he answered by making a face before turning his attention back to what he was doing. As much as I love the fact that I can always count on him, I'm also getting quite worried about his dating life. It has come to the point that I actually tried setting him up with others, only for the blind dates to fall apart.

I settled on watching Jiwoo now, my mind blanking as the peacefulness of the day settled around me. A small smile tugged at my lips as I watched my son plop back on the grass to fix the tail of his kite. That's when I heard it, my name being called out by a soft feminine voice.

I turned to look at its owner and froze. Standing a little ways from us were the last people I was wishing I would run into again, and I have quite the feeling one of them feels the same. Johnny looked just as surprised and frozen on his spot as I was before his girlfriend gently tugged his hand to approach me and Doyoung.

"Hi. It's so nice to see you here," she greeted, a friendly smile curling the corners of her lips. Doyoung, who looked as shocked as I was at the visitors, glimpsed at me, then back at the pair. I couldn't really find my voice, my gaze simply moving to her, then at Johnny whose eyes were also watching me and Doyoung silently.

Unbelievable. This is so utterly unbelievable.

"H-hey... It's—It's nice to bump into you guys again. Hi," I finally managed to answer as I pushed myself to give the most normal smile I could manage. I stood up from my seat and felt Doyoung do the same beside me. Johnny's girlfriend turned her attention to him and smiled.

"Oh… Is he your boyfriend?"  

My eyes instantly snapped at Doyoung at the question, but my best friend wasn't looking at me, his steely gaze set instead on the man in front of him. Doyoung can be such a hard person to read sometimes, but as his closest friend, I do have the talent to sense whatever it is that he's hiding behind his silence. Today though, he was barely trying to conceal the hostility in his stare.

"Doyoung," Johnny greeted him with a curt voice which the other answered with a slight nod.

My gaze moved from one man to another before I snapped back to my senses. The tension was so thick you could almost choke on it. I need to say something, anything. Thankfully, Johnny's girlfriend decided to break the silence first.

"Do you all know each other?"

"Ah, yes. We all… we all went to college together. This is Doyoung. Doyoung, this is Johnny's girlfriend," I said, mentioning her name. Doyoung's brows rose ever so slightly after hearing it. He probably remembers it from when I told him everything many years back.

"It's nice to meet you," he said civilly, giving the pair a slight bow.  

"Same here. What a nice coincidence to meet Johnny's friends. Are you two on a date, too?"

"Oh no, we—"

"Mama!"

All of us seemed to be on autopilot as we all turned towards the voice. Jiwoo was running towards our little group excitedly, his kite bouncing behind him. He took one quick look at the newcomers before his face brightened like a little sun as he recognized one of them.

"Mister!"

My first instinct was to scoop him up and try to keep him at a distance but he was too fast to toddle right towards the middle of our group, his eyes expectant. In front of him, Johnny bent down on his knees and reached out to ruffle his hair, the same smile reflected on his face.

I felt like my throat was slowly closing in on me.

"Hey buddy, how have you been?"

"Your son?"

I quickly turned to the woman still standing in front of me, thankful for having a reason to tear my eyes away from the two. I barely managed to keep my voice stable when I answered.

"Y-yes…"

"He's adorable," she turned towards the boy and sat back on her heels to be on his eye level. Jiwoo smiled back at her as she offered him her name before giving her a polite bow.

"Hello, ma'm. My name is Jiwoo. Are you mister's wife?"

She replied with a soft laugh but shook her head.

"No. But I'll be that soon."

That made me stop a bit. Before I could even realize what I was doing, my gaze lifted towards Johnny who had straightened himself up again, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. What a wrong move...because the moment our eyes met, I felt my heart drop when I saw  him already staring at me.

I quickly looked away.

I turned to finally scoop Jiwoo in my arms and pressed the warmth of his small body against mine. It's as if I was using him as a shield, a balm… a reminder.

"Your boy is very charming. You three make such a cute family."

I know I should have corrected that, but I couldn't find my voice to do it. Beside me, Doyoung was silent too.

"Well, it's nice to see you here again. I would have wanted to know more about you, but I don't want to be too much trouble. It's just that… I barely know any of Johnny's friends," the girl shot me a shy smile that stirred something foreign in me.  

If the two of us met in different circumstances, maybe we would have been friends…

"Yes… Things are a little bit busy on our end. Maybe...maybe next time," I offered hesitantly which made her face light up. Beside me, I could feel Doyoung give me a glance. He knows exactly where this is going and I could almost hear his voice berating me inside my head. 

"Oh! is there something you guys are doing next weekend then?"

Well, fuck me.

"I… Uh…"

"My father is throwing a charity ball and I'd love to have the three of you there. I don't really have any friends here that I can invite so…" her eyes dropped to the ground, then back at us almost guiltily. "Of course, only if you are free," she shot me a hopeful look before smiling at Doyoung. I could feel Johnny's gaze burning on me but I kept my stare ahead.

I didn't really know what got to me. Maybe it's because I genuinely feel towards her willingness to know more about Johnny's life here or I simply want to escape the current situation… whatever it is, I found myself giving the least rational answer from my set of choices.

"...sure. I can come, but maybe not Jiwoo. He gets tired easily. And I can't really speak for Doyoung—"

"I'll be there."

I turned to him so quickly that I almost startled Jiwoo who had started playing with my hair. I was about to say something but stopped when I saw the set of his jaw.

"That's great! I'm so excited to see you guys there. I'll have Johnny tell you more about the details and send you the invitation. He has your contacts, right?"

I numbly nodded.

The girl reached out for my free hand and gave it a squeeze before linking it back with Johnny's.

"Thank you so much."

"No...no problem."

"Mama?" Jiwoo tugged gently at my shirt and my eyes immediately landed on him as he showed me the tangled up strings of his kite. "Can we fix it? It won't fly anymore."

Doyoung was quick to the rescue before I could even answer. I felt him gently tug Jiwoo from my arms, his genuine attention now fixed on my son.

"I'll take care of it. Come, Jiwoo. Let's fix it there at the bench," he offered, as he settled the toddler in his arms. He gave me a look before bowing slightly at the pair to excuse himself.

I didn't have any other choice but to say my goodbyes alone.

"Well, it's nice to see you here again. We'll be seeing you at the party… I guess."

"Yes! We can talk more there. We'll go ahead too. I hope you three enjoy your family date."

My eyes moved to Johnny to bid him goodbye as well, only to regret it the moment our gazes met.

For a brief slip of a second, I thought I was seeing the same man who loved me back then. His gaze was unreadable, but at the same time told me a thousand things, none of which I was ready for.

"I'll be in touch."

------

“I’m so sorry. I wasn’t expecting this.”

I nodded at the phone only to realize that Doyoung couldn’t see my reaction. With a quick look at the mirror, I consciously put my hand down to stop myself from eating my fingers. 

“Hey, it’s fine. It’s an accident. Are you sure you’re okay though?”

“Yeah, the crash was far from where I am but it’s holding everyone up. They’re clearing it though. I think I’ll be there in...forty minutes tops?” 

“Mmh…,” I hummed distractedly as my eyes landed on my reflection again. For the first time in a long time, I felt thankful once more over the magic of makeup. Without it, I probably would look like a sleep-deprived ghost with how pale I was. I moved to tuck a stray lock of hair that has escaped from my low bun and checked the clock resting on my vanity table. 

Johnny did keep his promise and reached out to me last week about the party. Thankfully, he simply gave me a quick run through of the details of the event, nothing more, nothing less. What I didn’t expect, however, was the amount of effort that saying yes to this would entail—the moment he forwarded the official invite to me, I realized that his girlfriend wasn’t kidding when she described it as a “ball.”

I sighed at my reflection in the mirror and tried to adjust the straps of my dress for the seventh time tonight. It’s been so long since I had to put on something more formal than my usual work outfits that I feel a little uncomfortable with the fit and the whole set-up. If I’m going to be completely honest with myself now, I want nothing more than this night to be done and over with.

“Why don’t we just meet there? I’ll just go ahead so we can save time? Then we can leave early, too,” I asked Doyoung on the phone using the most casual tone I could manage. He fell so silent at my suggestion that I almost thought he didn’t hear me.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. I can just take a cab there.” 

Silence again. I sighed and turned to finally grab my purse from my bed. 

“Doyoung, talk to me. I can feel you fuming from over here.”

“I just don’t understand why you’re doing this.”

It was my turn to stop now, my eyes landing on the framed photo of me and Jiwoo resting on top of my night desk. It hasn’t even been three hours since I dropped him off to his grandma’s place but I already miss him to bits. 

“I also don’t know why, to be honest…” I murmured against the phone so softly that I was surprised Doyoung heard me. When he spoke again, I could feel the concerned edge on his voice. 

“Look, you know I will support you in everything you do, but don’t get yourself into anything that will hurt you in the end. I… don’t want to see you crying again.” 

His words made me smile. It honestly gave me the push I need to finally slip on my heels and grab my house keys. 

“What did I ever do to deserve someone like you?” I asked as I made my way towards the door. I couldn’t see him, but I know he was smiling just like me on the other end of the line. 

“I wonder that too, sometimes.” 

“I’ll see you at the party?”

“See you.”

---

I peered at the address from the e-copy of the invitation on my phone then glanced back up at the house in front of me. I was expecting the venue to be pretty grand from the name of the area alone but I wasn’t expecting it to be this… marvelous. Describing the structure in front of me as a ‘home’ would be an understatement, really—calling it a mansion would be a better fit at how expansive it is. Soft notes of orchestra music floating towards where I stood brought me back to reality. With a soft clearing of my throat, I walked towards the building and showed my invitation to the smartly dressed guards stationed there. 

The first thing that I noticed when I finally stepped foot inside was the incredible set-up. I don’t know anything about Johnny’s girlfriend other than her name—I never did try to dig any information about her even back then—and that they used to be neighbors in Chicago, so I am quite surprised of her home in Korea. One look at the property and the guests milling on the open garden is enough to tell me how well-connected and well-off her family is. Everyone just looks so… important. 

My eyes roamed the area as I stood a little undecided at the threshold of the garden set-up. Almost all the guests were divided into small groups among the small cocktail tables dotting the expansive garden, laughing while casually taking sips from their flutes of champagne. 

Damn it. I should have waited for Doyoung after all…

I was busy being in the middle of regretting my decision when my eyes met familiar ones from across the garden. My breath caught on my throat as I gazed at Johnny who glanced up just in time from his own little crowd to stare back at me. He was wearing a crisp dark suit with a matching tie and his hair was neatly slicked back with a few wisps kissing his forehead. 

He looks good. 

And I am damned. 

I was woken up from my stupor when I saw him briefly turn towards the guests he was entertaining before starting to make his way towards me. 

Fuck. Fuck. 

I probably looked like a deer caught in headlights as I watched him weave through the crowd to where I was. Before I knew it, he was standing right in front of me.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

“How long have you been here?”

“Oh. I just. I just arrived,” I said, quickly looking away to glance back at the crowd. I tried to shove back the incredible urge to slap myself for acting like a stupid teenager at the moment.

“Is Doyoung… coming?”

“Yes, he is. He just got stuck in traffic so I went ahead,” I tried to give him a smile which he answered with a slight nod. Was it just me or was that disappointment that quickly flashed in his eyes? 

The silence that followed between us was brief but awkward. Johnny kept his gaze on me while I suddenly found the patchwork of grass between us interesting.

“The party’s going to start in a bit. Why don’t I show you around first?”

“Huh? Oh, there’s no need. You seem a little bit busy with the guests you’re entertaining. I can just go find a table, I’m sure Doyoung will come soon.” 

“Actually, I insist. You’ll be saving me from the small talk.” 

I looked up at him and felt my heart jump a little at the small smile on his lips. I was unprepared for it, but in that slip of a moment, he didn’t look like the boy who broke my heart many years ago. He was just the Johnny I fell in love with when we were younger. 

I felt something inside me give away. It was a very minute change, but I let it run its course even for just this brief moment. 

I smiled back. 

“Okay.”

His smile widened and he moved to offer his arm to me. I hesitantly hooked my hand around it and let him steer me towards the other side of the center of the party. 

-----

“So you’re telling me that her family grew this garden because she loved roses when she was young?” 

“Mm-hm.”

“Wow… and this is just one part of the garden?”

“There is another annex at the back of the house but it’s only allowed for family members.”

I stooped a little bit to look at the small bud of a red rose that’s just blooming from the wall of climbing vines. When Johnny said he’s going to show me around, I wasn’t expecting that he would be giving a full tour of some of the mansion’s open areas. The garden where the party was set up was breathtaking on its own but the rose garden where we are now is an entirely different level of beauty. I can see why he decided to show me the way here—it’s probably one of the most beautiful parts of the estate. 

“They’re so beautiful…”

I was so lost in appreciating the beauty of the blooms in front of me that it took me a while to feel the heavy gaze on my back. When it finally settled on me, I immediately straightened myself and turned to look at him briefly. I didn’t stop to try and read his eyes, opting instead to look for a different topic of conversation to diffuse the air. 

“You hit the jackpot, I see,” I internally winced at my choice of topic. Of all the things I could bring up, I decided to settle on that? 

Johnny, meanwhile, didn’t seem to be as bothered by the subject I opened. He kept his eyes on me and I found myself mentally cursing his habit of staring people down.

“You think so?”

“Yes. I mean, you’ll be part of the family soon, right?” 

Oh, god. It just keeps getting worse. As if it wasn’t bad enough that his ex is talking about him and his current girlfriend, here’s stupid me swerving to bring up their engagement, too. It’s like I was caught in a literal train wreck—I knew it’s a disaster, but I simply cannot look away.

“Actually, the engagement hasn’t been formalized yet.”

I slightly frowned at him. 

“Formalized?”

He shrugged and finally looked away before lifting the flute of champagne he was still holding to his lips. 

“It hasn’t been released to the papers yet.” 

I blinked. It took me a while to understand what he was saying before I realized that it is something rich families do for their daughters. It sounds out of place—maybe even a little old fashioned—for a regular civilian, but it does happen.

“Oh… I see,”  I didn’t know what else to offer as an answer to that so I let silence settle over the two of us again. It’s not like I move in the same kind of world he is living in now, nor am I in the position to comment on the intricacies of his relationship.

“How’s Jiwoo?”

The mention of my son’s name was enough to pull me back to the conversation. Just like that, I felt the wall I’ve kept at bay rising between the two of us again. 

“Johnny…” I started, a frown settling over my features. He was quick to raise his hand though before I could even continue what I was about to say. 

“Look, I’m not here to cause any trouble, believe me. I just really want to know how things have been since I—” he stopped, gauging his next words carefully. “Since I didn’t know that I have him…”

I took my time to answer, silently weighing my next move. I guess I did dig my own grave when I allowed the two of us to have this private time together. Of course, this was coming. Of course he would jump on the chance to take his shot. I sighed and turned my gaze somewhere else. 

“If you’re asking if I can support him properly, yes we have been doing more than fine. Financially, there is no problem at all.”

“That’s not what I—” Johnny stopped mid-sentence as he tried to gather himself. He must know he is treading on deep waters now and didn’t want to mess up his chance of knowing more about the boy. 

“I just—want to know…What do you tell him about his father?”

His question made my stomach drop. I knew it was coming… I just didn’t expect him to actually ask it too soon. And while I do know that I have the upper hand in the situation, I chose not to lie by offering him the truth. 

“I told him he is happy somewhere else.” 

The look that Johnny gave me was enough to make my heart squeeze painfully in my chest. I know he deserved my words because they were the truth, but I couldn’t help myself from feeling the same pain that was reflected in his eyes.

Just then, I felt my phone vibrate on my purse. I quickly tore my eyes away from him to pick it up. 

There has never been a more fitting time that I could thank Doyoung for his perfect timing. 

“Hello?”

“Where are you? I’m here.” 

I quickly glanced at Johnny. 

“I’m coming. Can you find a table for us?”

“Um, yes sure.”

I didn’t wait for him to say anything else and quickly cut the call. The sooner I can escape the situation, the better. 

“I have to go. Thank you for showing me around,” I gave him a quick bow before turning on my heels to trace back the steps from where we came from. I have barely placed any distance between us when I felt a warm hand circle my wrist and gently pull me back. I turned to look at him with wide eyes, surprised at the action. 

“I have a proposition.”

“A what?”

“Please let me spend some time with him for the next three months. You don’t need to tell him who I am. I can just be the random stranger he met at the park who wants to be his friend. Three months is all I’m asking. After that, I promise I’ll forever be out of your lives.” 

I shook my head slowly, not quite believing what I was hearing.

“You do know that you are in no place to ask this from me, right?”

“I know,” Johnny stopped and pursed his lips, his jaw ticking. “I know. That’s why I’m begging you. Just… let me have this.” 

I was at a loss for words. My eyes roamed his face, looking  for another reason, any reason, to say no to him. Every rational thought in my mind pointed to the same direction, so why couldn’t I give the same answer to him now?

“How can I be sure that you’ll never bother us again after this?” came my whispered reply.

It may have been years since the two of us have been this close, and yet even from afar I could read the expression that passed his face. 

It was resignation. 

“Because by then I’ll be married and will be back in Chicago. So I promise… After this, you can go back to hating me again.” 

I don’t know why, but I felt the same kind of loss I’ve felt many years ago when we said goodbye rising to my chest. 

The worst thing?

This time, I saw him reflecting the same pain and longing back at me. 

---

Chapter 4

Tag list: @suhpersonic, @minejungwoo, @yourchasingsunsetslove, @yuta-nakitamoto, @uranna

[rayslittlekitten]

Truth

"You Got This” Masterlist

A/N: For this week's FanFic Friday for @rebelwrites, here's a cute little cheesy scene from the You Got This universe. I kinda miss them. If you haven't read anything from this universe, quick background info: reader is Opie's sister and Jax is 15/16 years old and and reader is 14 and they're kinda like lowkey BFFs.

Rating: T

Word Count: 643

Pairing: Teenager!Jax Teller x Teenager F!reader/OFC

Plot: During a game of truth and dare, you and Jax find out your feelings for each other.

Contains: underage drinking, fluff

Photo prompt:

“Never have I ever... eaten a pickle," you say.

"Really? Never?" Jax asks.

"Nope. They look slimy and gross."

Jax takes a swig of the 40 ounce malt liquor bottle he stole from a convenience store you both are sharing while hanging out at the pier watching the sun set. You're usually the third wheel to him and Opie but Opie's got a girlfriend now and he's been spending less time with you and Jax.

"Never have I ever... bled from between my legs." Jax chuckles.

"That's not fair!"  You playfully punch his arm.

"Ow! Okay, fine. Never have I ever... kissed a boy." Jax hands the bottle over to you. You glance at it and then back at him.

"I never have either."

"Really?!" Jax asks with wide eyes. "Have you ever kissed a girl?"

You shake your head.

"Wow. Princess of SAMCRO hasn't had her first kiss yet?"

"Shut up, Jackson!" You shove him, but he barely budges. "This is getting boring. Let's play truth or dare," you tell him, trying to change the subject.

"Fine, you go first since it's your turn next," Jax laughs.

"Truth or dare?"

"Mm... " Jax has one eye closed and he's looking up to the sky thinking about his decision. "Truth," he chooses before taking a swig of the cheap alcohol.

"Who do you like more? Me or Ope?"

"Really? That's what you want to know?" Jax asks.

"The game's not over. I have plenty of opportunity to ask other questions."

"Well, you're definitely easier on the eyes," Jax laughs. "But you're definitely my favorite Winston. Don't tell Ope." Jax winks.

You smile at his answer.

"Your turn. Truth or dare?"

"Truth." You answer immediately.

"Who do you have a crush on?"

You look at him, not sure how you want to answer. "I change my mind. Dare!"

"Nah uh, you can't do that. Those aren't the rules. You gotta answer the question."

The butterflies in your belly are so active, you feel like you're going to hurl.

"Come on, you can trust me with it." Jax nudges you. You grab the bottle from Jax and take a huge swig.

"Who is it that you can't just tell me? Is it me?" Jax jokes. The deer in headlights look on your face answered his rhetorical question. "Seriously? You have a crush on me?"

"Your turn! Truth or dare?" You spit out quickly and down more of the malt liquor hoping to get drunk quicker to forget the last 30 seconds even happened.

"No, wait, you didn't actually answer my question." Jax backtracks and then grabs the bottle from you.

"Okay, fine, yes I have a crush on you, okay?" You confess. dreading his reaction.

"Dare."

"What?" You look over at him and he's smirking.

"I choose dare," Jax repeats. "Dare me to kiss you."

You just stare at him like he has five heads.

"What are you doing?" you ask, confused.

"I chose dare, not truth."

"Jackson, I can't dare you to--"

Jax cuts you off with his mouth, his soft lips over yours. So many thoughts are going through your mind and new feelings are coursing through your body. Jax pulls away but you want more. You look at him, speechless.

"I like you too, Y/N." Jax tucks your hair behind your ear and cups your face.

It takes you a moment for his words to sink in. Jackson Teller, the cutest boy in all of Charming High likes you? That sounds insane.

“Why do you look so surprised?” Jax asks.

“Because you’re Jackson Prince fucking Charming Teller.”

“And you’re Y/N Princess fucking Charming Winston.” Jax leans in and kisses you again. He drops the bottle that he was holding in his other hand, not caring that it spilled and grabs the other side of your face, not wanting to let you go.

[a-dragons-journal]

i dont "kin for fun" but through tiktok i found out about the whole kin for fun vs actual otherkin... situation ig? im having a really hard time taking it seriously... maybe im just burnt out and bitter from dealing with the worlds current events, and maybe its because on tiktok the only people i saw mad about it were white people, but you're the most reasonable person ive seen talking about it (a lot of other posts have this odd tone that 12 year olds on tiktok saying kin is the worlds greatest opression and it weirds me out) so ig my question is just... why exactly does this matter? why does it matter enough to post about and care about and not just ignore? /gen

Hey! I don’t blame you for being a bit weirded out by it, we’re a weird subculture and we’re well aware of it! xD I appreciate you taking the time to actually look into it past your first knee-jerk reaction, especially considering burnout and the state of things.

I’m not totally sure if you’re asking why otherkinity matters or why the “kin for fun” being wrong matters, so I’ll answer both - they’re pretty well tied together anyway.

The short version:

Otherkinity is an identity. It’s who we are, we can’t choose to pick it up or put it down, and it comes with struggles - though no, ‘kin are not systematically oppressed (though we are pretty badly bullied and, at this point, pushed out of our own words and spaces).

What people calling roleplay/relating to/projecting onto characters “kinning for fun” does is steal our words, make them meaningless, and in doing so, make it difficult or impossible for us to find each other. If someone says “I kin [x],” I no longer know whether they mean “I am [x] on an intrinsic level” or “haha I relate to this character a lot”. I no longer know whether they actually share my experiences or if they’re going to turn on me and call me “crazy” as soon as they realize I’m not exaggerating or joking or roleplaying. It’s done massive harm to the community as a whole because it’s become difficult to tell whether someone is actually ‘kin or if they’ve misunderstood the whole thing - and because antikin rhetoric, which I’m seeing more and more in KFF spaces, hurts far more when it’s coming from inside what you thought was a community space than when it’s coming from self-labeled “antikin.”

There are other words for roleplaying and relating to and projecting onto characters. Hell, there are words for strongly identifying with-but-not-as characters/things, though usually KFF people don’t even seem serious enough for those to fit in my experience. I’m really not sure why these people are so determined to steal and misuse our words, words that were specifically created to mean something else, when they already have their own and are just refusing to use them. (Or, hell, if you don’t feel like those fit, make your own. We did. It’s your turn to put in the work. (General you, not you-the-anon, of course.))

An analogy, if that still doesn’t quite land for you:

Consider, for a moment, the transgender community. I am aware this is a dangerous thing to say, but bear with me. Obvious CW for hypothetical transphobia up ahead is obvious.

Consider if you were part of the trans community (I don’t know if you are or not), having finally found a word to explain why you feel the way you do about yourself, why your experiences don’t seem to match up with those of everyone else around you. Having found a community, a home, full of other people like you, people you never would have met if not for words like “transgender” and “gender dysphoria/euphoria” that were created specifically to describe your experiences.

Now consider if people suddenly stumbled across your community for the first time who were not trans themselves. They see community jokes and lighthearted posts out of context, because Tumblr and Twitter aren’t exactly conducive to making sure people find the Transgender 101 information posts first. They don’t bother to do further research, assuming they understand: ah, these people like to crossdress! They like to pretend they’re a different gender! This seems like a fun hobby, I want in!

They begin to post things like this. They post photos of them crossdressing and caption them “hi, I’m [name], and I trans men!” and things of the like. Suddenly the concept of “transing for fun” seems to be everywhere - and it’s not at all what being trans actually is, but these people either don’t know or don’t care. When actual trans people try to politely correct them, they’re accused of “gatekeeping” - and to be clear, this is not “nonbinary people aren’t real,” it’s “transgender means you identify as a gender other than the one you were assigned at birth, and you’re self-identifying as the gender you were assigned at birth 100% and telling us this is just a fun hobby for you, therefore you’re not trans, you’re crossdressing or doing drag or being GNC. That’s fine, but it’s not being trans - you have other words to describe that, use those.”

(Yes, I am aware these things have a history with the trans community - please just ignore that for the sake of the analogy and bear with me on the slightly simplified version of this. “Kinning for fun” does not have that same history with the otherkin community.)

...And then the response to those attempted corrections, in some corners, turns into “wait, you ACTUALLY think you’re another gender? idk that sounds pretty unhealthy, maybe you should see a psychologist or something :\” and “you’re taking this too seriously.”

I imagine, in this hypothetical scenario, you’d also be pretty fuckin peeved.

(Obviously, in this hypothetical scenario, systematic transphobia would be an issue as well, which isn’t the case for otherkin - again, you’re gonna have to bear with me on the simplification for sake of analogy there.)

(EDIT: this is not an anti-MOGAI/exclusionist argument, this is “you’re literally telling me you don’t fit the definition,” explanation on that here)

The long version, which is probably still worth reading if you have the time and energy:

Otherkinity is... pretty core to who I am, who we as a group of individuals are. We live with being otherkin on a daily basis. Many of us spent a long time feeling different and disconnected and not understanding why until we found the otherkin community. Even people like me, who don’t share that experience and still had social connection - I’ve still had to live with weird differences that I had to learn to mask when necessary; instincts that don’t line up with human society well, feeling body parts that weren’t there and that no one else ever seemed to have, things that other kids grew out of because it was just make-believe for them and I... didn’t, because it was never make-believe for me to begin with. Oh, sure, I played make-believe too - I played warrior cats and house and all those things with the other kids, but there were things that weren’t play-pretend for me too. I didn’t have an explanation for it for a long time - it was just how I was, I was weird, and fortunately for me personally I was okay with that (many of those with species dysphoria or more trouble connecting with humans have more problems from that than I did).

And then I found the word “otherkin.” And suddenly everything fell into place, and I had an explanation for the things I’d been experiencing, and there were other people like me. Something I’d assumed didn’t exist. I found others who shared my unique experiences, who were talking about how to cope with the instinct to growl or snap jaws at people instead of expressing annoyance in a human way instead of just saying “that’s weird, don’t do that”, who were talking about dealing with phantom wings and tails, who understood me. I wasn’t weird, I wasn’t broken, I was exactly what one would expect from a dragon living in human skin. I found an explanation for myself. I found a home.

That is why otherkinity matters - it is who we are, it’s not something we can walk away from (certainly not most of us, anyway), and it’s something many of us need the support of the community to help deal with on a daily basis. Being a nonhuman in human society isn’t always easy, but it’s not something we can just magically stop being - it’s core to who we are, we (generally) didn’t choose to be this way, and we (generally) can’t choose to stop. Which is fine - the vast majority of us can cope with it just fine, with a little advice and help and space to be our authentic selves in. We found each other, we built this community from the ground up to make a space and words to make finding each other easier - or possible at all.

Thus we come to the second half of our story.

It was only a couple of years ago that the “kin for fun” trend started getting big. It had existed before that, of course, but it only started going mainstream two, maybe three years ago, from what I can tell. Suddenly people were treating “kin” like it meant relating to, projecting onto, roleplaying as, or just really really liking a character or thing - not being that thing, which is what it actually means. Not long after that, it became hard to tell whether someone saying “I kin this” meant they were that thing, that they were actually part of our community - or that they really really liked that thing and either didn’t know or couldn’t be bothered to learn that that wasn’t the case for us.

Not long after that, it became relatively commonplace to hear phrases like “otherkin are ruining kinning!!” and “you’re taking this too seriously” and “idk, if it’s that serious for you that sounds unhealthy. maybe you should get some help :\” (all directly quoted, or as exactly quoted as I can remember, from things KFF people have said to me or people I know).

It is a special kind of hell, I think, to be told “you’re taking this too seriously, that’s unhealthy” by people who are taking words created to describe your experiences, not theirs, and misusing them to mean something that you do for fun on a weekend instead of something that’s intrinsic to your being.

Perhaps more importantly, like I’ve said, it’s making it almost impossible to know whether someone who says “I kin [x]” is actually ‘kin or if they’re misusing our words to mean something else entirely. The entire point of words is to communicate ideas, and once you start misusing words to mean something totally different than what they actually mean, that communication falls apart and suddenly we might as well not have those words at all. Especially when the community is small enough and obscure enough that we’re starting to be outnumbered by the misinformation. We’re being run out of our own words, words we created to describe our experiences specifically - because we’re a small community that the wider internet can easily drown out by sheer numbers of people who either don’t know any better or don’t care to learn.

That’s the harm it does - the harm it is doing, right now. That’s why it’s important enough to post about. That’s why it matters - because we’re fighting desperately to hang onto our own words so that others like us can actually find us. Because we’re seeing young nonhumans go “this isn’t a kin, I actually am this” and screaming “No, I’m so sorry that this is what the misinformation has done to you, that’s exactly what otherkin means, you have a place here, please don’t let these non-’kin misusing our words drive you away from the very community you’re looking for and that you belong in.” Because we can’t even communicate effectively about our own experiences anymore except in semi-closed spaces like Discord servers and forums (and the number of Discord servers overrun with KFF people is absurd).

......This got very long. Hopefully it at least explained why it matters so much to me and others a bit better ^^; Thanks for hearing me out, and thank you again for looking into this beyond your initial knee-jerk reaction - I really do appreciate it.

(For further reading, if that text wall didn’t blow you out of the water completely, I recommend my “kin for fun” tag, which has more posts like this in both short and long form.)

[only-johnny-deppp]

“Whatever I’ve gone through, I’ve gone through. But, ultimately, this particular arena of my life has been so absurd...” 

 Johnny Depp’s NEW INTERVIEW!

Last saturday, August 14, The UK Times, released a new interview with Johnny for the Sunday Times section. It was realized sometime earlier this month, in London, probably on the same day he and Andrew Levitas were recording for the Q&A for the “Minamata” release in UK. This is Johnny’s first interview since the UK trials in London last year, and released three years after Johnny’s major interview for the British GQ Magazine. Here Johnny and Andrew Levitas speaks about “Minamata”, his future as actor and a thing or two about his personal life, although he cannot talk about the court case.

For those who couldn’t read yet, here is the FULL interview:  Enjoy.

***

“I’M BEING BOYCOTTED BY HOLLYWOOD”

Johnny Depp has a new film out this week. In the opening scene his character, the real-life photographer W Eugene Smith, says, “I’m done. I’m tired. My body is older than I am. I’m always in goddam pain. I can’t trust my f***ing dick any more. Constantly in a foul mood. Even the drugs bore me.”

I ask Depp if Smith’s despair resonated with him. Depp stops. Rocks back and forth. “That’s interesting,” he replies with painful hesitation.

“I didn’t approach playing Smith in that way… Although you bring your toolbox to work and use what is available. Having experienced...” He stops again. Depp takes any questions that might refer to his calamitous libel case last year slowly, in a mumbly, croaking drawl. “A surreal five years…”

In the film Smith needs to revive his reputation. In real life Depp’s task is even more daunting. Thanks to the judgment, everyone can call him a “wife-beater”. Now he must convince a Hollywood still convulsed by #MeToo that he’s not toxic — and that any attempt to rebuild his career is a risk worth taking. This is Depp’s first interview since the case.

We are speaking over Zoom, Depp in his London home, in front of a gold-framed painting. The 58-year-old is wearing a lot of clothes. Earrings. Floppy hat. Sunglasses. Bandana. Scarf. Checked shirt over a T-shirt with an indiscernible slogan. If you saw him on the Tube*, you might think he was off to work at the London Dungeon*, to play most of the characters.

PS. For those who are not familiar with British words: * Tube = British slang for London Underground, the subway trains. * London Dungeon = is a walk-through experience that recreates scenes from London's scary history in a mixture of live actors, special effects and rides.

Depp resumes, talking in broken sentences about the new film, Minamata, in which Smith, via Life magazine, exposes the brutal mercury poisoning of Japanese villagers in the early 1970s.

“How do we do this?” he asks rhetorically, meaning how to speak about the elephant in the Zoom. “Well, there’s no way one can’t recognise the absurdity of the mathematics.” He grins. “If you know what I mean?” No. “Absurdity of media mathematics.” He talks in riddles. “Whatever I’ve gone through, I’ve gone through. But, ultimately, this particular arena of my life has been so absurd...”

He trails off again. He is holding a big brown roll-up of some sort. “What the people in Minamata dealt with? People who suffered with Covid? A lot of people lost lives. Children sick...Ill. Ultimately, in answer to your question? Yeah, you use what you’ve got. But what I’ve been through? That’s like getting scratched by a kitten. Comparatively.”

Last July, I went to the High Court in London to watch Depp on another screen — a video from the socially distanced court where the Hollywood star was losing a libel action against The Sun after it called him a “wife-beater”. It was the grottiest showbiz trial of the century. There were photos of the actor passed out in a foetal slump, socks on show. One lengthy exchange involved faeces. Another urination, inside or outside a house, after a violent night with his ex-wife Amber Heard.

This had all been going on for a while. In 2016 Heard applied for a temporary restraining order against him. The couple had long endured a narcotic, booze-filled, childish relationship, but that does not matter — 12 incidents levelled against Depp were proved, said the judge, and abuse is abuse, regardless of how badly they both behaved. Depp wanted to appeal, but the court said no. Next April in the US he has a $50 million defamation case against Heard relating to an opinion piece she wrote about being the victim of domestic abuse. It may be his last roll of the dice.

In the 1990s Depp was a sensitive heart-throb. Cooler than DiCaprio, edgier than Pitt. In this past year he has been stripped of his status and dignity. On day three of the trial Sasha Wass QC, representing The Sun, asked Depp about daubing a penis on a painting. He could not remember. “That would be quite a big thing, painting a penis on a picture?”  Wass asked. “Quite a big thing?” Depp asked.

It was a well-delivered line, but Depp was on show. Performing. Now he is more timid, less lucid. His people say he cannot talk about the court case given the looming US trial, yet it hangs over everything. The director of Minamata, Andrew Levitas, is also on our call — as a pub trivia aside, Levitas is married to the Welsh singer Katherine Jenkins.

The two men clearly get on. “With regards to journalism, it was important for us to put across in the film the power of truth,” Levitas says. Depp nods. “The responsibility of journalists to look after citizens of the world. [Our film] coincided with the moment important publications had to put Raquel Welch on a cover to get enough eyeballs to sell enough ads in order to put something meaningful inside. A result of that is clickbait — it’s destroying the purpose of journalism,” Levitas continues.

“You said it beautifully,” says Depp, one of the world’s most pinned-up men, who built a career on magazine covers. “I couldn’t say it better than that.”

Last month Levitas wrote to MGM, which bought Minamata for the US market but decided not to release it. He accused MGM of being concerned that “the personal issues of an actor in the film could reflect negatively upon them”. Then the letter got really strong. Levitas accused MGM of failing in its “moral obligation” to release the film and said it needed to explain to the victims “why you think an actor’s personal life is more important than their dead children”. He then attached Smith’s photos of ghastly deformities that shocked the world 50 years ago.

“It’s important that the movie gets seen and supported,” Levitas says. “And if I get an inkling it’s not going to be, it’s my responsibility to say so. Where it goes from there? I don’t know. But we have responsibility to these victims . . .”

You can see why he’s passionate. The film is good. MGM bought the film because it is good. Depp is good too. He disappears into the role, far from his more recent pantomime parts. It’s being released worldwide, just not in the actor’s homeland.

Depp, who also produced the film, interrupts. “We looked these people in the eyeballs and promised we would not be exploitative. That the film would be respectful. I believe that we’ve kept our end of the bargain, but those who came in later should also maintain theirs.”

“Some films touch people,” he adds. “And this affects those in Minamata and people who experience similar things. And for anything…” He pauses, as he does. “For Hollywood’s boycott of, erm, me? One man, one actor in an unpleasant and messy situation, over the last number of years?” He trails off. “But, you know, I’m moving towards where I need to go to make all that…” Again, he trails off. “To bring things to light.”

The fact, as I think Depp knows, is that for his career, the court that matters is not one of law, but public opinion. On social media, where a lot of minds are made up, Depp’s good reputation will always outweigh the bad, thanks to his frequently blinkered fans.

Outside the High Court, as Heard arrived, I saw Natasha, 30, yell: “Get hit by a truck, Amber!” She is extreme, but the persistent way his fans demand that others think their idol is a saint shows a career revival will happen. After all, most filmgoers do not follow his private life at all. To them, he is Jack Sparrow, Edward Scissorhands. To them, he is a star — and a star can take an awful lot of heat before it burns out.

“They have always been my employers,” Depp says of his fans. “They are all our employers. They buy tickets, merchandise. They made all of those studios rich, but they forgot that a long time ago. I certainly haven’t. I’m proud of these people, because of what they are trying to say, which is the truth. The truth they’re trying to get out since it doesn’t in more mainstream publications. It’s a long road that sometimes gets clunky. Sometimes just plain stupid. But they stayed on the ride with me and it’s for them I will fight. Always, to the end. Whatever it may be.”

Depp will talk like this for ever — about his “truth”. Minamata is the last film Depp has listed on the industry site IMDb, where actors usually have half a dozen in development. So, yes, fans of the actor can see Depp in a new role now — it is a return, but is it a relaunch? The film was finished in 2019, way before last year’s court case. Is that it? His last film? He thinks and looks off to his bookshelves, at biographies of Betjeman and Olivier.

“Er...no,” he says, eventually. “No. No. Actually, I look forward to the next few films I make to be my first films, in a way. Because once you’ve...Well, look. The way they wrote it in The Wizard of Oz is that when you see behind the curtain, it’s not him. When you see behind the curtain, there’s a whole lot of motherf***ers squished into one spot. All praying that you don’t look at them. And notice them.”

I would ask him to explain, but I am not sure he is an explainer. Watch this space, I guess, but he is already taking a first step back. After we speak, it is announced Depp is getting the coveted Donostia award at the San Sebastian Film Festival next month. Some people are just too famous to fail.

~ Interview by Jonathan Dean, in London, for The Times UK (released on August 14, 2021)

[nightswithkookmin]

I saw this question n i really want to know yout pov . JK is a troll and he's using both JM and Tae. Lets see. JK wears a purple and green shirt the other day. Purple and green earrings during Muster and purple and green bracelets. But then he says Purple goes best with Yellow and wears matching clothes with JM. He grabs Tae away from Jin, but then grabs JM from people. So is he purposely being a fan service troll or is he stringing them both along? I don't think he knows what or who he wants anymore. he's just enjoying the attention from Vmin.

JK IS STRINGING VMIN ALONG??? I 👁👄👁

I feel like I've answered this Ask before.

I think the problem with such rhetorics for me is, it strips Jimin and Tae completely off their self agencies and reduces them to a bunch of fabled dickmatised pick me hyungs waiting on a patriarchal head with a self acclaimed big dick who then is Jungkook to choose between them to move the plot.

If that is true, then I recommend Vmin go and love themselves or better yet fuck eachother to liberate themselves from this mental hebetude.

Photo: Two pathetic dick whipped men comforting each other over a piece of dick

What at all makes y'all think that Jimin who have categorically stated he doesn't share his friends, would be ok sharing his boyfriend with his bestfriend and soulmate?

Didn't you hear BTS, Suga complain that Tae's friends are like unicorns and that he talks about them alot but none of them have seen those friends ever in one of the team building run episodes they did recently?

What makes y'all think a man who tries to keep his intimate friendship groups separate and compartmentalized from his work friendship groups- what makes you think he would be ok dating a bandmate in the first place much less share his partner with another bandmate?

Y'all make it make sense to me please.

Y'all create this rhetoric of V and Jimin so in love with their Maknae they would allow this goofy ass gen z to play them like booboo the fool. But frankly I think none of them would shed a tear over a piece of dick. I'm sorry but I just don't see them that way.

Jk barely has the reins on Jimin, how he's gone manage Tae and all these other idols yall ship him with on top🤣

Jimin is slippery than y'all think he is. He'll be gone before JK makes up his mind chilee. And if he won't go, I and JK's mom will carry him kicking and screaming cos we love us some self confident self respecting Park Jimin.

May be I'm gay but I don't think dicks are all that great for two full grown adults like Tae and Jimin to sob over. The misogyny of it all!

Now this whole fan service troll bit however...

I think I have said a couple times that Jikook, Jk especially do intentionally troll us from time to time with certain things he does with Jimin- the tissue thingy he did with JM, the pinkie ring thingy, the bottle thingy and certain "fan service" interactions with Jimin and certain members, blowing Jin a kiss and making sure it was captured etc.

It's all part of his persona I suppose and I think it's cute frankly. I just know he laughs his butt off at certain edits and analysis we throw out there. He does. Lmho.

Photo: Jimin and Jungkook watching shipper armys be clowns

Lmho.

Do I think he trolls us from time to time? Yes. Sometimes we catch on, sometimes it flies over our heads completely. I guess we need to pray for the spirit of discernment to be able to clock these moments cos 👁👄👁

That however doesn't take away from that he has genuine interest in his relationship with any of these men. It in no way invalidates what he has with Jimin. Or Jin. Or Tae because like I said, his right to be a fuxkboy is contingent on the self worth and agencies of these autonomous human beings with brain and self determination.

He can be a fuxkboy just not in Jimin's space. I would fight him otherwise 🤺

Jungkook is not a fuck boy. He values the people he loves- y'all uWu and akekeke when he shows loyalty and commitment in caring for Army's health and often praise him for how thoughtful and empathetic he is but then somehow y'all imagine the exact opposite of him in his private life. That he is a community penis who doesn't care about hurting his boyfriend, someone he claims he loves and goes ahead and falls in love with his bestfriend anyway.

Worse, those two besties obsequiously wait on him to choose between them.... why?????

Now, I don't think it's fair for OP to opine on the aesthetics Jungkook gravitates towards in this way. It feels like they are stripping Jk off his agency and self determination and reducing him to a caricature who exists solely for a ship and thus everything he does is interpreted from a ship lens. I think that's a low blow.

BTS have said their looks and style are often curated by staff- they have stylists for a reason you know? Granted, these stylists often make sure Jikook or other pairs are matching clothes or wearing complimentary outfits or hairstyles most times- like JM says, there is a reason for that.

And yes, sometimes they do make their own decisions as to what they want to wear and how they want to look- because again, agency. We've seen it and the stylists have said so themselves.

How you interpret these clothing choices is totally up to you. But do not judge them for the interpretation you give to these choices they make. Sometimes they wear stuff cos they like it. It may coincidentally be your faves favorite color- it don't mean they were trying to imply subtext.

Sometimes too, they do that to actively feed a ship agenda- like Vmin and their soulmate agenda or Jikook and their I am you you are me agenda or even Sope or Namjin.

It behooves you to discern and to be able to discern the intent behind such decisions and choices. And when you do, understand it's only speculation.

I think Jungkook knows who and what he wants. You corny for saying he don't. So cheesy. Lmho.

He has shown that again and again y'all just wanna act blind. Jimin is not confused between Jungkook and Tae. JK is not confused between Tae and Jimin- for the simple fact, they each bring something different to the table.

He can have a boyfriend and have a partner in crime. Just as Jimin can have him and have a bestie he calls soulmate. Jungkook is also, a complex human being with complex emotions. He is capable of having different emotional depths and connections that don't at all necessarily mean he is fucking them all or wants to fuck them all. Hell is wrong witchu?!

Perhaps, rather than brush Jimin and Tae as occupying the same spot in JK's heart and wants, try and understand what each mean to him because trust me they don't mean the same thing to him at all.

Personally, I think Jimin is the love of his life. Period. Tae is his childhood bestie whom he grew apart from and have in recent times rekindled that friendship. He is not fucking Tae and he doesn't want to fuxk him. We DO

I'm calling Jesus on y'all cos the things yall be imagining in this fandom is hell worthy🤧

Besides, Jk is not at the center of VminKook. Jimin is. Vmin are not vying for Jk's affections, but Tae Kook are vying for JMs you coconut head 🙃

Tae: Jimin I like you the most

Y'all: 🥥🥥🥥🥥🥥

This man don confessed his whole chest on his feelings for JM on national television and yet yall gonna act obtuse.

When Tae wanted to fix his relationship with JK he said it to y'all's hearing in Soop. When he wanted to confess his feelings about Jimin he did that too. He is not hiding his feelings for Jk or Jimin for yall to concoct these elaborate theories about him and JK.

If I master black magic, I will turn y'all into coconuts so your insides can match your outsides😫

FREE JK

Signed,

GOLDY

[scouts-thingsandrps]

Creature • Songfic

Atalanta and Hunter just stared at the poster, neither one of them wanted to blink.

It was their poster for the Emperor’s Coven, which urged people to join to be like ‘one of the cool kids.

Or, at least, that was Belos’ reasoning for making the two of them lead the Emperor’s coven, to help lead children to their own deaths. 

In a way, it made the two want to laugh bitterly at their past situation.

They used to be sure that they were doing the right thing.

Now, they were just running in the dark, trying to fit into the world that no longer has the emperor’s coven.

“Do you remember this?” Atalanta’s question was rhetorical, of course, both of them could remember how excited they were to have the photo taken, and it was one of the few good moments they had. 

Though, no amount of good moments could be worth the fear of waking up after having nightmares over some of the sights they witness (some of that stuff they couldn’t even talk about with the therapist that Steve set them up with).

“Yeah, I remember, it was after Lilith left. Honestly, I’m surprised that Kikimora could her cool around the Emperor.” Hunter’s tone seemed light-hearted, but there was a certain wide-eyed, slightly dazed look that he had when he thought of the times with Belos.

“Yeah, I thought she was going to kill us.” Atalanta joked back before looking over at the blonde former golden guard, her features softening up as she noticed his brother’s expression while trying to fight the feeling of disassociation herself. “Are you alright?” The blonde grimwalker looked over at his sibling the moment that the words were spoken with Hunter giving his sibling an awkward smile out of reflex. However, the smile was short-lived as he stared off into the distance again.

“I think I need to walk, want to come with?” Hunter offered a hand to help his sibling up, which Atalanta grabbed and used it to help themselves up.

Hunter’s pace was quick as the orange leaves crunched beneath his feet with Atalanta following behind as she looked around. 

“Do you have a place in mind?” Atalanta asked curiously, looking around the area as a sense of familiarity filled her.

Hunter didn’t answer her question as he continued to walk, eventually stopping once a cave was in sight before turning around and making a showy motion. 

“Here is our destination!” Atalanta gasped as she looked around the cave, which Hunter couldn’t help but smile at. “Let’s explore it together, just like old times.” Hunter watched as his sibling eagerly nodded before the two of them walked inside the old griffin cave with bright smiles on their face akin to a kid in a candy store. 

The two took the moment to walk inside, hard rock replacing the grass that the two were walking on as Atalanta grazed her hands against the rough rock that outlined the cave as Hunter looked over at some white scratching that he remembers doing back when he first became a coven scout. 

“‘EC was here’? I never really noticed that.” Hunter jumped as soon as he heard his sibling’s voice, turning around to see her right behind him. Atalanta’s brows furrowed in concern as he began to sit down next to the white chicken scratch on the wall, watching as Hunter sat down beside him with a huff as the two teenagers stared up at the ceiling.

The two sat in silence as soft thundering could be heard outside of the cave which was followed by the soft pittering of the rain, filling the silence for a moment.

“Looks like we’re here for a while,” Atalanta’s gaze moved briefly, looking down at the old scars that littered her arms as well other parts of her body as well as Hunter’s body. 

“Do you ever miss…Belos?” Hunter looked over to Atalanta, trying to keep his voice steady as he looked over at Atalanta “I feel like he was the only person who could handle us.”. 

The two listened as the rain poured down harder as they took the moment to process the words that were spoken. In their mind, the words held a hint of truth.

Adrian always seemed distant and Darius never seemed to want them around.

“I mean, he seemed to tolerate us…despite everything.” Hunter rubbed his arms, feeling the scars on his arm as he looked out of the cave, watching as the boiling rain fell down. 

“I miss him too…he knew what we were, and in a way, Belos was family.” Atalanta responded in a tone that was both bitter, yet remorseful as an unreadable expression crossed both of their faces. 

Another beat of silence passed, though it was starting to suffocate them they just looked over at each other as Hunter messed with the hem of his shirt while Atalanta tried to control their shaky breathing as Hunter started to feel tears run down his face. 

“What even are we?” Hunter’s voice wavered as it got quieter and raspier, no longer having the energy to support his head, causing him to lean on his sibling’s shoulder. 

“Do you want my honest opinion?” Hunter paused at Atalanta’s words, pondering if he wanted to stop the self-destructive conservation altogether. 

Despite the knowledge that continuing this conversation would not be the best thing for both of their mental health, Hunter’s curiosity took over as he nodded for his sibling to continue.

“We’re imperfect messes made from old bones. And I’m happy that you’re still around, it helps to have someone like you.” Atalanta muttered softly, her breathing was a comforting rhythm to Hunter as she began to rub Hunter’s back in a semi-comforting manner. 

If he was being honest with himself, he didn’t really expect that particular answer, though he could tell that there was an unspoken bitterness to it, especially in the last part of Atalanta’s sentence.

The two took the moment to make eye contact with each other, teary magenta eyes locking with distant, yet haunted, deep purple eyes. 

“It’s getting dark out, we’ll need to stay here for tonight.” Atalanta’s usual matter-of-fact one stood out as she broke eye contact to look outside. 

“Let’s hope that the griffin doesn’t wake up. If it’s still even here.” Hunter responded in a semi-joking tone, looking over at the inside of the cave, checking around for anything that could be a threat as he forced himself to stay awake as Atalanta shifted around slightly, looking over at the chicken scratch while trying to ignore the feeling that the two of them were just fumbling around like they were a husk of their former mask.

That they were just failing to adapt to their new environment.

They were incomplete, unable to be a proper soldier but they couldn’t just be regular teens like everyone else.

Hunter put his head into Atalanta’s shoulder in an attempt to block out some of the negative thoughts.

It was funny, in an odd way, especially since this entire event all started because they found a poster.

“If you want to sleep, just say so, I’ll be fine with watching.” Atalanta stated, their voice barely being able to be heard over the rain. They knew that if they were any louder, they would probably hurt Hunter’s ears. 

Hunter was thankful for the offer, but he ended up refusing the offer. 

After all, it was fairer if the both of them stayed up together, plus they could still talk. 

It felt like a couple of hours passed, though it was hard to tell how much time had actually passed, though they eventually found out that the griffin was still there, and very angry at them. 

The rain irritated the scratches as Atalanta focused on trying to get the shield to protect their head. 

The first place they could think of was going to Darius’ house, after all, it was closer to where they were so they would be protected from the rain.

However, the two didn’t have the stomach to knock on the door to wake the former abomination head witch up, so the two just sat on the patio, letting the roof protect the two of them as they huddled together in an attempt to hopefully fall asleep despite the irritation from the griffin’s scratches and the boiling rain.

But it seemed like the titan had other plans, two could hear Eberwolf howling and they knew that Darius would wake up. Hunter looked over at his sibling as soon as he heard footsteps, mentally preparing himself for either a lecture or faux concern since that’s all they ever got from Belos.

The two immediately looked over at the door the moment that it was opened, revealing the familiar dark-skinned, abomination-haired man that they were used to in the castle. Darius’ features held an unspoken, yet genuine concern as Eberwolf nudged the two teens inside. 

“Want to tell me what happened?” Darius asked as he began to grab a medkit while Eberwolf stretched across both teenagers’ laps in an attempt to let them know that they were safer, but also to stop them from leaving until after they got medical treatment.

“Ummmm…it was a griffin…this time.” Atalanta muttered softly as he watched Hunter get his scratches treated with disinfectant, not really looking forward to the stinging sensation that comes with it.

“You know that you two can stay here, right?” Darius stated as Eberwolf chirped in agreement, watching as the two witches' palismans began to run/fly towards their respective witches, Atalanta smiled as she pet Sami while Flapjack flew around Hunter worriedly.

Darius looked at the two teens, waiting for a response and softly frowning when he was met with silence.

“I have a room set up for you both.” By this point, he was treating Atalanta, watching as the two seemed to perk up a bit at that.

By the time he was done, he stood up, motioning for the younger witches and their palismans to follow him as he walked up the stairs. They had to admit, they had never seen the second floor of Darius’ house, so they took the moment to look around at the unfamiliar area before eventually stopping as Darius did.

Darius opened the door, revealing a semi-plain room, he figured that the two teens would decorate the room however they wished. There were a couple of distinct features in the room, like a desk with a couple of empty journals on top of it, a soft, white rug in front of the dresser, though one thing that stood out was that the picture that Hunter took with the flyer derby team was in its own frame next to one of the beds. 

“The door has a lock on it, if you want to lock it, you’re allowed to. Now, try and get some sleep.” Darius gently ruffled the teen’s heads before leaving them alone to let them sleep. 

It was awkward in the house for the first couple of months, but eventually, Darius noticed the teens opening up.

Hunter started to talk to him and Eberwolf about his flyer derby matches, as well as the latest book he had been reading.

Atalanta started to show the two former coven heads their writing and had even taken an interest in the Azura book and writing at Hexside.

The two teens looked happy, and Darius was happy to be watching the kids recover.

[yourreddancer]

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

April 22, 2022 (Friday)

“I don’t recall.” “I don’t remember.” Georgia Republican representative Marjorie Taylor Greene today took the stand before an administrative law judge in Atlanta to defend her right to be on the ballot in Georgia after five voters challenged her inclusion on the grounds she had violated the third section of the Fourteenth Amendment, which prohibits anyone from holding office who has taken an oath to support the Constitution and then participates in an insurrection or rebellion or gives aid and comfort to someone who does. 

After being caught out when her examiner provided a video in which she called House Speaker Nancy Pelosi a traitor just after Greene denied ever saying such a thing, Greene did not try to defend her inflammatory past statements. She simply said she didn’t remember anything about the events surrounding the January 6 insurrection. Even when asked “Did you advocate to President Trump to impose martial law as a way to remain in power?” she did not answer no, but rather said: “I do not recall.” “So you’re not denying you did it?” asked her questioner. “I don’t remember,” she answered.

Under her own lawyer’s questioning, Greene claimed to have been a “victim” of the January 6 attack, although there are photos and a video of her smiling and apparently at ease with colleagues during the attack. Ultimately, her lawyer defended her speech as protected under the First Amendment, said the evidence wasn’t clear, and said that removing her would create a bad precedent. 

The judge will report on the evidence and make a recommendation to Georgia secretary of state Brad Raffensperger about whether to include Greene on the ballot. Ultimately, the decision will come down to him. Since he is eager to fend off challenges from the Trump right wing, he may have already made his decision. But Greene’s refusal to repeat any of her inflammatory statements under oath in court, and therefore at risk of perjury, demonstrated the degree to which right-wing leaders have gained power by lying to their supporters without accountability.

There has been some accountability this week, though, for the gulf between Republican rhetoric and reality. Yesterday Brian Kolfage, co-founder of the “We Build the Wall” project that claimed to be raising money to build former president Donald Trump’s border wall, pleaded guilty to stealing hundreds of thousands of dollars from the project. He, and other organizers, promised donors that all proceeds would go toward building the wall. His partner on the project was Trump confidant Steve Bannon, who was charged in the case but was pardoned by the former president. Financier Andrew Badolato also pleaded guilty. The Fox News Channel and pro-Trump personalities, including Donald Trump, Jr., and his fiancee, Kimberly Guilfoyle, pushed the wall scheme.

Kolfage initially claimed that criminal cases against him were politically motivated but now says, “I knew what I was doing was wrong and a crime.” Badaloto said, “I’m terribly, terribly sorry for what I did and I humbly beg the court for mercy.”

But if accountability has shown up for businessmen, it has not for lawmakers.

  Yesterday, New York Times journalists broke the news that House minority leader Kevin McCarthy did, in fact, say to Republican leadership that he thought Trump should resign after the January 6 insurrection. When news of that conversation broke yesterday morning, McCarthy called it “totally false and wrong,” only to have a recording of the conversation surface on Rachel Maddow’s show last night, revealing McCarthy to have straight-up lied. 

Such a scandal would have sunk a leader in the past, but McCarthy has quietly assured Republican colleagues that he immediately called Trump and that the former president isn’t mad at him. That assurance was enough for some House Republicans to let the matter slide. One of them told CNN reporters Melanie Zanona, Manu Raju, and Lauren Fox: "The only one who matters is Trump, [a]nd if Trump is fine, it's not an issue." 

Three people told Washington Post reporters Jacqueline Alemany, Marianna Sotomayor, Felicia Sonmez, and Julian Mark that Trump sees McCarthy’s quick capitulation to him after calling for his resignation as a demonstration of Trump’s control of the Republican Party. 

But the Republican disarray might not be fixed so easily. Trump Republicans, including Steve Bannon, expressed their fury with McCarthy today for his perceived disloyalty. “McCarthy and McConnell are the enemies of the Republican Party,” one wrote. 

And then, this evening, Politico dropped photos appearing to be Trump loyalist Representative Madison Cawthorn (R-NC) in lingerie and jewelry, drinking with young women hugging him, at what appears to be a somewhat raucous party. Cawthorn outraged Republican leadership recently when he said his colleagues had invited him to “orgies” where there was cocaine; they suggested his statements were false. Cawthorn admits that the photos are real, but says the “goofy vacation photos” are from “waaay” before he got elected and suggests “the left” is trying to hurt him. The photos will nonetheless create a mess for the Republican caucus, already reeling.

And the tension in the party will continue. Today, CNN dropped another recording, this time of a conference call between McCarthy and Republican leaders on January 11 in which McCarthy did, in fact, say: "[L]et me be very clear to you and I have been very clear to the President. He bears responsibility for his words and actions. No if, ands or buts…. [H]e told me he does have some responsibility for what happened. And he needs to acknowledge that." McCarthy has since avoided confirming the conversation. 

Despite its increasing exposure, Republican disinformation continues to poison our democracy. Florida governor Ron DeSantis today signed the law he demanded from the Florida legislature in retaliation for the Walt Disney Company’s opposition to the “Don’t Say Gay” law widely perceived as attacking LGBTQ Floridians. The new law strips from the Walt Disney Company the ability to govern itself essentially as if it were a town, as the Reedy Creek Improvement District (RCID) set up in 1967.DeSantis sold the bill as a way to protect children from what he lies are “groomers” of children for sexual assault. But the law significantly strengthens his political power.

  Sarah Rumpf of Mediaite notes that the law will hurt the people of the state: Disney has preserved large green spaces as natural habitats that are hugely valuable real estate and are now at risk. In addition, repealing Disney’s status means that Orange and Osceola Counties are now responsible for Disney’s $2 billion bond debt—a 20% to 25% tax hike costing $2,200 to $2,800 per family of four—and will have to pick up the tab for the operating services that Disney currently provides. Since Disney’s RCID pays more and has better employee benefits than the Florida government, county workers staying on will likely have to take pay and benefit cuts.

Rumpf also notes that the law won’t go into effect until June 1, 2023, after this year’s midterms and after next year’s legislative session. The idea is to “put Disney on a leash,” one attorney told Rumpf, “So they better do what Ron DeSantis says, they better give to the P[olitical] A[ction] C[ommittee]s Ron DeSantis says, or else.” The implication, the lawyer said, was that if Disney did as it was told, the new law would quietly go away. Even more, though, state law says that Disney’s status can’t be repealed without the consent of the voting landowners, a reality Republicans in the state legislature appear to have ignored.

 That pain is about political power. DeSantis’s attack on Disney demonstrates his use of the state to impose the will of his voters on a popular company; it also retaliates against Democratic voters. Osceola and Orange County were two of the Florida counties that backed Biden in 2020, Osceola by 56.4% to 42.6% and Orange by 61% to 37.9%. Imposing taxes and lower wages on the people there seems likely to be what makes the plan attractive to DeSantis. 

Indeed, along with the attack on Disney, the Florida legislature accepted extreme new congressional districts carved out by DeSantis that significantly benefit Republicans while carving up one traditionally Black district and obliterating another: the one currently represented by Val Demings, who is challenging Marco Rubio for his Senate seat. 

Opponents of the law are suing.