#this is really just a random shot here

[mask131]

The thing that I always found abominably fascinating and insanely mind-blowing with the Earthsea series is that it breaks all the worn-out, over-used, “seen everywhere” cliches of fantasy people complain about today and try to avoid. 

Tired of your typical Europe-setting? Here is a world of islands influenced by a lot of various non-European civilizations!

Tired of having a white-predominant cast? Here is a series where people of color are the dominant ethnicities and the white are the minority and bizarre barbarian foreigners from far away!

Tired of having the heroes go on grand and perilous monster-slaying quest to fight some dark overlord or fetch a magical item? Here are books where the villains are elusive, abstract and philosophical threats, where the quests to defeat them are very down-to-earth, solitary and rely more on self-search and the understanding of human nature rather than great exploits. 

Tired of seeing the same old-worn out fantasy races tropes? None of this here! 

This book series was created with the intention of subverting, avoiding or breaking the new tropes and stereotypes that were rising up with the success of Tolkien’s work. It was made to be different and ground-breaking and stereotype-crushing, and it worked extremely well, becoming a classic of fantasy literature and influencing the genre massively... And yet, people only rediscover it today, and know about it today somehow. (Well a “large” today including the dozen of last years of so).

This series is the perfect example of the “new” fantasy that rises up in the modern era, as an attempt to “break off” from the “traditional” or “cliche” fantasy... And the first book has been sitting there since the END OF THE 60s!!! 

There are more examples I could point out of books that present to us a completely out-there, trope reinventing, stereotype breaking form of fantasy - and that yet have been there since the 70s or the 80s, or even before! As I went back in time to see several of the “classics” of fantasy literature, I came to understand something - a lot of the “cliches” and “stereotypes” and “over-used tropes” of fantasy people complain about today were not at all dominant for a very long time. If you believe the words of many people out there, you imagine fantasy never had black characters or queer characters or non-European settings or non-Tolkienesque plotlines until the 2010s or something... Which is not true. Fantasy was such a varied, bizarre, diverse genre in its literary form all throughout the 20th century, and many “old” works of the first generations of the post-Tolkien fantasy are basically what people want to see today as “pattern-breaking and fresh new fantasy”. 

The Tolkienesque-fantasy and all of its cliches and stereotypes were not so much dominant as just present in a handful of massively popular and widespread works - the case of the Shannara series can be pointed out, as its first book was PRAISED at the time for being able to recreate a Tolkien story in the 70s, and it was because it was mostly a copy of the Lord of the Rings that it got so popular (and why it is not well-liked today). And then the 80s rolled and early D&D reignited the flame of the Tolkien-inspired fantasy. By the 90s, it seemed Tolkien had been used and over-used to death, and people didn’t trust it all anymore... Which is why David Eddings’ Belgariad series was created. Its key point was to take back all the elements of the traditional epic fantasy story, but reassemble them, freshen them up, twist them slightly, all of that to re-create a by-the-book BUT fresh, new and interesting series. It was an attempt at prooving that, with innovation and some twists and modernization, the Tolkienesque fantasy would not die - and it worked massively well. And then in the 2000s, the Lord of the Rings movie sealed the deal. 

All these works make it look like fantasy had always been copying or taking inspiration from Tolkien. But it is false. It is true that most of the classics are tied to Tolkien, but not always in imitation or re-creation - in the case of “Earthsea”, there was a willing attempt at getting away and inverting the Tolkienesque fantasy to create a fantasy that went the very opposite direction. Same thing with the Elric Saga, also designed to be the reverse or opposite of The Lord of the Rings, and which in turn became the classic of another new genre of fantasy: dark fantasy. And Conan in all that? People forget that the Conan the Barbarian series were just as influential for fantasy works as Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings was. The Elric Saga, again, was created to completely reverse and avoid the Conan-like fantasy. A similar thing was done with Leiber for his “Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser” series, which was designed to break away from the Conan “heroic fantasy” style and reinvent the genre in a new direction. 

There are so many “old” and “classic” works of literary fantasy that actually do not feel like a “classic” at all because they have all the vibes, elements and expectations one has from a non-classic, non-traditional fantasy... BUT THEY ARE THE FOUNDATIONS, they are the basis and classics and inspirations of fantasy. And it all shows this huge gap between what people think fantasy is, and what fantasy really was - it is a fascinating case study of how one specific trend somehow got over the entire genre. Imagine a world where people think Gothic novels can only have a vampire or the ghost of a judge, and must be Bram Stokers-inspired, and that everybody points out they are tired to see Dracula-expies everywhere... Only to discover the stories of Edgar Allan Poe and be baffled by them and their “inventivity” and “breaking of patterns”. I’m sorry, that’s the fastest comparison I can make, but this feels just like that. There is this strangely specific idea of what fantasy is today forged on a few items... I think, beyond the massive success of Tolkien and imitators, D&D probably is also to “blame” for how people see fantasy today.

But even then, D&D took inspiration from so many non-conventional works of fantasy... Yes many became “classics” now, though often ignored by the masses - The Elric Saga, and Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser were big influences. But take the Jack Vance series “The Dying Earth”, another big inspiration on early D&D. Take that. This series is from the 50s - FROM THE 50S - and yet it is a unique genre of sci-fi fantasy that I haven’t seen much being done around, and it creates such a weird, whimsical, bizarre, surrealistic fantasy world, it feels completely unique. And again, it is a classic of the 50s and 60s. 

I don’t really know where I try to go with this but the important thing is: when someone wants to read “non-traditional” or “non-Tolkienesque” fantasy, or “non-stereotyped” fantasy, it is possible, instead of searching for every new author nowadays (not a bad thing to do that though), it is possible to just go back in time, look back at the books of the 70s, 60s and 50s, and find there a novelty, a freshness and an inventivity that is lacking in a mass production of modern day fantasy. And that such a thing is possible is truly crazy for me. I don’t know if such a thing happened with other literary genres, but it is insane that sometimes in fantasy, to see “new” things you just have to look back into the past. 

[skippingthroughfields]

one thing that's missing from these convos about amc not submitting assad zaman for a golden globes nom that makes it 10x more malicious on amc's part is that a nomination isn't just like oh... ~simple appreciation for an actor's performance. even if there's no win, it results in a profile boost for these actors & them being able to command a higher salary when it comes to future projects. it's something that gets notice on their CV. these studios and networks love being able to market their shit with things like "starring golden globe nominee john doe" or "emmy winner jane doe." the emmys are more prestigious than the golden globes which are more prestigious than the critics choice awards (the one they submitted him for with two other actors lol). actors get nominated and have the opportunity to get attention from social media posts, article mentions, attending the red carpet, having their name announced and a little clip of their acting shown. that's not nothing! attention from possible new fans, publications, execs, peers, producers, directors, fashion houses & other industries which could lead to $$$ and sponsorships. I won't make any presumptions about the cast's finances but I do know amc is probably not paying them their worth, least of all the bangladeshi muslim who barely had any major roles in tv/film prior to the show.

there are fees and costs associated with submitting for awards consideration and FYC ads. the network basically took a look at assad's brown skin and name and said they don't think he's worth the money over the white actor who had less screentime and narrative importance (to the season ig) which is absolutely crazy lmao. it shouldn't be controversial to say that and you can't not discuss this without bringing up sam's name. this has nothing to do with whether he "deserved" to be submitted (and even if I said he doesn't deserve it over assad who's gonna beat my ass?). this white man isn't being persecuted by conversations about blatant racism. but I'd expect nothing less from this fanbase x.

[ruvviks]

Following the chilling conclusion of All That's Left's first season, Mac and Layla and their friends find themselves scattered across a divided Los Angeles a year after their successful return to town. Matrix Corp has taken control— "With humanity's best interest in mind"— but with our protagonists' knowledge of Opportunity's destruction and Houston's unexpected fall, they know better than to trust the corporation and its near military-sized security force. Closed district gates separate them from one another and a new threat lurks just outside the city's walls— but resistance is on the rise, and it is only a matter of time before truth comes out. [SEASON ONE HERE]

taglist (opt in/out)

@shellibisshe, @florbelles, @ncytiri, @roseeway, @stars-of-the-heart;

@lestatlioncunt, @katsigian, @radioactiveshitstorm, @estevnys, @adelaidedrubman;

@celticwoman, @rindemption, @carlosoliveiraa, @noirapocalypto, @dickytwister;

@killerspinal, @euryalex, @ri-a-rose, @velocitic, @thedeadthree;

@kanos, @swordcoasts, @ordinarymaine, @claudiawolf, @strafethesesinners

[coolcoolwithyou]

why don’t we talk about this more. we should talk about this more

[megumi-fm]

.

[sskk-manifesto]

Next time we should just skip over ep 3 and do a chapters 84-87 reread

[prudentfolly]

Day 24: Party

One of the perks of Prudence's current position is that she can attend balls thrown by her Lady. It is a game for her, seeing how well she blends in with the crowd, eaves dropping, building a persona for the evening.

[lazarus-harp]

I think A LOT about what the survivors do post-season. would nikita try and pretend that nothings happened? would mat watch the videos the dead made to humanize those who had to die for him to survive?

you're the survivor connoisseur, what do you think?

for one, i'm very flattered to be seen as the 'survivor connoisseur'! so thank you immensely for the kind words. and secondly, oh boy, this question couldn't of come at a better time ... considering how much post canon mat & nikita have been pingponging around my head! i'll try to be as coherent as possible, but if a lot of this is pure word vomit then i do apologize. it is merely the passion taking over haha.

nikita is someone who fascinates me greatly in the aftermath, because there's a level of realism within her that's lacking in mat. but it's cynicism mixed with denial! she doesn't believe they can bring everyone back i don't think, or at least that's what she tells herself over and over again. a mantra. a safety net. she is so scared to hope and she's even more scared of what might come after that ; there's a sense of shame inherent in her when faced with colleen's bitter coldness. unlike mat, she is all too aware of her horrible actions and what might follow. an awful nightmare of, even if i saved them, would they forgive me? would they want me around? would things be the same? and nikita knows the answer, or at least thinks she does. so much of her post everlock is trapped inside this in-between, which naturally makes her come off as wishy washy and contradictory. a perfect fit for her bizarre behavior in s4. she's willing to go through with the rescue mission because her desire aligns with mat's, yet she staunchly refuses to wallow in grief. she accepts people have died ( in her memorial to manny and roi, via the tear tattoos ) and has made progress in finding a life outside the death games, via bretman. she nurses her new best friend close and yet mostly keeps him separate from everything everlock has touched and tarnished. i like to imagine bretman is her secret and crutch for moving forward, into a future that won't ever have manny again. he acts almost like a replacement in her heart. makes that loss hurt a little less. and i also think matthew can tell that's what it's about, naturally causing some resentment on his end ... because to him, manny can't be replaced. nobody can. it's why we have to do this, nikita! in lots of ways, he views her more 'healthy' behavior as her giving up on this, on them, and he loathes it.

but, obviously, nikita's behavior isnt healthy and mat ( in typical him fashion, where it concerns her ) is completely misreading her actions. nikita isn't acting callously, she's just scared. it's not about forgetting or pretending, it's a matter of selfish safety she's more hellbent on having than ever before. putting her heart out there only for it to be crushed beneath the grim world she now knows they're apart of? putting hope out there, indulging in wishful thinking and fantasy, just for those dreams to be taken from her, again? it's staggering losses she's nervous to take, and she's already made this mistake with manny ; believing he could live despite the odds, trusting in a faulty system, seeing a light at the end of the tunnel that would have them stepping out into the morning together ... but she was wrong. manny surviving all those challenges, even ones he shouldn't have, was nothing more than being lucky. a fluke, if she could be that cruel and discredit his skills so easily. in the end, he was still ripped away, in a way so horrible, nikita might secretly wish he would've just died beforehand. hope and optimism are soiled for her, reality is all that's left. you see this no nonsense attitude from her a lot in s3 to begin with! she's keenly aware of their time limit and keeps their group moving onward, sparing little theatrics on the dead bodies of innocents paving their way. vocally acknowledges that whoever was chosen to be brought back could arrive pissed and vengeful, openly calling attention to the fact it's likely for vendettas to breed when the game they're playing isn't blameless. really, the troublemaker is more calculated and clever than most fans give her credit for, in my opinion. these are traits normally passed over to mat instead, despite his intense emotions getting the best of him multiple times in the show! he is prone to listen to his heart and his grievances, weaponizing grudges when he deems it fitting while nikita is forced to swallow them, and really let them go because emotions hinder her determination and path forward. it's no different here ... except isn't it? just a little bit? nikita falters under her own desires for things to be as they were and she can't fully fight the need to see manny again, or to save the day when she feels responsible for so much pain that night.

though this goes against some core traits of hers and i think that's where the struggle really lies. i want to see manny, but what if he hates me? would i rather live in a world where he can hate me or would i rather stay in one where he'll never get that chance? very selfish of her, i suppose, to potentially value those things over an entire human life, but it's so realistic and human i can't help but sympathize. especially when she sets aside everything she thinks anyway! the troublemaker goes into purgatory knowing it might fail, and that if it does, it's going to reopen every wound she's haphazardly stuck bandaids over. she knows bretman might see her for who she truly is, a liar and a killer and a betrayer and someone who can't love another enough, and forces him to come because fine, it's the end isn't it? and most importantly nikita goes in thinking she could be turned on and hated and this is exactly the reality she faces with colleen, leaving her frustrated, and angry, and turning her shame into vitriol just like before. post s4, with bretman pissed at her, mat broken, joey gone, and everything destroyed again ... nikita then has little else to do ( in her mind ) except to move on for good this time. here might come the pretending act : shrugging off devastating losses and a world full of horror, settling into strange contentment after everything. a false calm, but one she'd wear perfectly nonetheless. would probably quit the society and go back to mundane things, like shopping sprees and creation. live a quiet life. everlock, purgatory, and the year between nothing more than the teardrops on her face and a man she still can't rid herself of. she can't look colleen or bretman in the eye. little things carry over into her manicured life : a refusal to wear pink despite forever adorning blonde hair, never holding the cool steel of a gun in two hands, doesn't say “i love you,” anymore, and plenty of other burdens. but she tries to ignore these signs as much as possible.

still, nikita seems healthy when compared to mat! at least there's a level of acceptance from her, at least she no longer holds the dead. maybe she's too keen on shoving them away now -- but maybe it's a better alternative, when paired with the detective's obsession with them? so much of mat post s3 or even post s4 to me is about his love and desperation outweighing logic, reality, and whatever else stands in his way. stubborn in all the wrong ways for all the wrong reasons. he is a character who needs to be loved and he found a group ( as imperfect as it was ) who adored him so much they wouldn't even let him stay dead. it's a turning point he can't go back from, because now mat owes these people everything. it doesn't matter to him that, really, only safiya and joey brought him back ... because when he stumbled through that door, everyone was so happy. they smiled and grabbed at him and it's probably the most welcome he's ever felt! it's a warmth he won't ever feel again but is chasing. so unlike nikita he can't play into denial. he can't move on or confront what'll happen if he fails. he can't fail, not again, because mat has to save somebody and he has to make the pain worth it. he was killed by the strongman? well, at least it wasn't manny, at least it wasn't permanent, at least mat came back to nothing but love and affection, and how could he ever trade that for anything? all his friends died because of a game they were forced to play? well, mat's out of everlock, he's free, he doesn't need to play by invisible rules anymore and he can bring everyone back and they can be together, and then the suffering will pale in comparison to the reunion awaiting them, right? it's scary for him to consider death and what it means : being forgotten, having everything you've done amount to nothing, laying in the dark of some terrible night all alone, permeant. so he does whatever he can to rebel against these fears that he believes are universal, but are merely his own. he'll get his hands on everything his group was in ( pictures, videos, articles, ) and he'll religiously consume them to remember. he'll think of them always, as ghosts in the corner of his eye, and will never do a single action without thinking about them in some way, to make them still amount to something beyond the veil. he'll heroically save them from a permanent slumber, like they did for him, so they can lay in the sun or in the comfort of a shared room and they can be permanently alive, at least for now. it's loving and it's devotional and it shows how deeply matthew cares and how big his heart is, but it's selfish too.

mat is preventing himself from pain this way, necessary pain. he's stalling the grieving process by entertaining a world in which they'll all be saved and will be able to move on together. he's leaving his wounds open and prodding at them so they won't ever close because finding a life outside of this is horrifying for him. and reasonably so! he died, and now he's just back? he's supposed to ... what, exist? be his old self? what's the protocol for revival? is he allowed to mourn someone he still is, or is he meant to pretend it's a life continued rather than a brand new one? scary ideas, scary theories, not a single guiding hand in sight. clinging to everlock and who he was then is safe, it's who he is now. except, is it? or is that the identity he's carved for himself because facing this world with brand new eyes makes him want to die? how can he move on from the very place he died in? it doesn't seem fair! or ... right. it's unnatural and mat is confused and he's floundering. clinging is all he can think to do. this also shuts him off from forming new connections or rekindling with old ones and that's safe too, not having to look at someone and think about if they'd survive the vote. if they could make it to the end with him, if it ever happened again. it also doesn't help that mat just has a chronic 'i'm a good guy!' problem and if he can undo everything he won't have to confront the fact he's not as perfect as he thought he was. like, while nikita is scared of hope and what it might do to her, mat is scared to look in the mirror and acknowledge he'd do anything to survive. that he's callous and cruel, that he's someone who would save his own skin rather than sacrifice himself for another. that's not who he is -- was? identity is a huge part of his conflict here!

it's a big bag of worms! there's many complexities at play, butting heads with their new natures and desires ... with each other too, clearly. mat obsessively drowns in the past and only works towards his ideal future ( i don't even think s4's failure would deter him ) and everything else just falls in-between. nikita lives life normally for once and maybe tentatively branches out to find new friends again, just because it's a sign she's making progress and it's something that'll show mat that moving on is possible, thanks. ways of dealing that take them down different roads eventually but they'll never let each other go so there's that new constant at least! and they're both actively hiding all the while, whether they know it or not. tragic!

anyway, i know this is ungodly long and ramble-y but i do hope it somewhat answered your question! i know i mostly talked about their mindsets and inner workings rather than what they specifically do in the aftermath, but! i think you can infer a lot based on their mindsets here. like, oh mat would rather start a scrapbook full of dead people's photos he's lovingly collected versus ... taking up journaling. nikita would rather follow an online course on cooking just because she's bored as fuck versus ... reaching out to the society so she can train with swords again. that kinda thing <3

[wanderingmind867]

I know I shouldn't care about my posts getting notes. But when I see some of them still have 0 notes, my brain seems bothered by it. Thankfully, I have more sense than I used to have (years ago, I would spam reblog my posts til they got noticed). Now I don't spam reblog things, but I do tend to make constant posts like these, where I worry about not being seen and where I pretty much seem to beg and panhandle for some stupid notes. I don't get it. Am i trying to lose what little friendships i have by guilt tripping people? Because i feel like i'm guilt tripping people.

Still, I can't stop myself from making these types of posts. The stupid desire for attention seems to be overpowering, and that really confuses me. I don't have any reason to be this hard up for attention. But since I have no answers, let's end with some more guesses. Do I make these posts out of habit? Out of a desire for attention? Just because I overthink everything and stress myself out? The answer may be yes to all of these, or it may be no to all of them. I legitimately don't know.

[keeps-ache]

linelesssss oohoohoo !!

[cynicalmusings]

‘the most crucial skill that a good drinksmith needs is listening… drinksmithing is all about having conversations with your guests’

tea house owner!reader energy for real

[rancidarling]

it's probably such a good thing I didn't grow up in America because anytime I went to someone's house and they had a bb gun, I'd just be obsessed with it and trying to be subtle about how interested I was in using it and also wanting to know what it would be like to shoot someone with it 😍

[hauntingblue]

Pluton lore: it can be used to make islands disappear. But why would crocodile want that

Zoro no learning that a swordsman is worth nothing if he can only attack and can't protect... yeah yeah yeah

Water luffy is so silly but makes so much sense like this is how we got to gear 5... also robin laughing.... this is where she thought she might join... like at least she will laugh with them. Also crocodile gets mad right after so it works to rile him up too!! Magnificent plan luffy

[lilreidgirl]

Do I wanna know?

Summary: You and Drew are best friends, but you want more. What happens when you get invited to a day out on Drew’s friend’s yacht and get more?

Warnings: MDNI(18+), fem!reader, thigh riding, daddy kink, nicknames used (princess, baby, little lady, good girl…), kissing, alcohol (beer), swearing, no use of (y/n), reader wears a skirt, shy!reader, pining amongst friends, English is not my first language, if I forgot anything; please let me know!!

WC: ~2.4k (no idea how that happened)

A/N: I got inspired by this photo so I wrote this at like 2 am and I’m posting it now at 5 am, this is a mess, gn my loves (NOT PROOF READ, SORRY) (also this is my first fic about Drew so yeah)

When your best friend, Drew Starkey, invited you to a small get together on his friend’s yacht, you were more than willing to go. You and him had been friends since years, getting to know each other through mutual friends and suddenly you were eating take out with a b-list celebrity every other night.

You twirled around in front of your full body sized mirror, watching with amusement as your skirt twirls with you, the ruffles bouncing as they fluttered in the wind.

“Wow. Really doesn’t take much to get a smile on that pretty little face of yours, huh?” Drew chuckled as he watched you spin around.

Startled by his voice you stopped your little turns, looking at him with a small playful glare when the dizzy fog finally cleared from your vision.

“I’m just a happy person. You should try it sometime” you shot back, but you knew it was no use. Drew was great at talking, arguing, whatever. He was great with people in a way you just couldn’t figure out for yourself.

But honestly? You were fine just standing on the sidelines watching him do his thing, waiting for him to abandon that and come talk to you for a bit.

You had been fine with it.

Lately every time he laughed and grinned at one of your sarcastic comments and every time he stared at you like he was a theoretical physicist and you had the answers to string theory, you couldn’t help but want more. Couldn’t help but want that “best friend” status to be upgraded to “girlfriend”. Hell, you even dreamt of being called his wife.

For now though, you were just going to try and enjoy the day on a luxurious boat.

Soon you found yourselves in the car. You clicked on random songs on your phone and sand along to the “wait, this is the best part, shut up”’s before yet again changing the song as Drew drove to the harbour, admiring the way you seemed so enthralled by the different songs and music.

“Would love to continue listening to your big world tour concert, little lady, but we’re here,” he announced once he’d gotten the car carefully parked.

Excitedly, you jumped out of Drew’s car, watching as he did the same before you both made your way closer to the water where many ships floated atop the sea.

At the same time, you both spotted Drew’s group of friends, waving at them as they saw you two as well.

You’d gotten to know them a bit but the amount of group hangouts you attended, didn’t really allow you to form a strong bond to any of Drew’s friends.

What can you say?

You’re just not a people person.

You’re a person person.

A Drew person.

You squashed the ridiculous thought, giggling it off before you checked that your outfit was neatly in order.

Upon seeing you inspecting your clothes, Drew leaned down and whispered in your ear, his breath tantalizingly brushed against your ear and neck as he spoke, “You look amazing, baby, don’t worry.”

As you reached the boat, the smile you had shared for a few enchanting seconds came to a sudden end.

“Hey, Drew!” Various different voices greeted the both of you and you both returned the favour with just as much enthusiasm.

One of the guys, the one whose yacht it was presumably, invited everyone aboard.

Your eyes flitted to everything around you, spotting a few seats, some complicated looking boat equipment and random day-to-day fun stuff lying around.

The smell of fish and sea breeze filled the air and your nostrils, but that scent quickly evaporated when Drew stepped next to you, finally finished with catching up with his friend and was now holding out a beer bottle for you to take. His cologne took over, overwhelming your senses. Something you were definitely not complaining about.

You accepted the beer from him, taking a sip before handing it back to him and watching as he repeated your action of drinking from the bottle.

Your gaze drifted to his Adam’s apple as it bobs when he took gulps of the alcoholic drink. He lowered the glass container from his lips, putting his strong bicep right in your line of sight.

As embarrassing as it is to admit you could have almost moaned from just looking at his muscly arm.

He must have taken off his shirt sometime between helping you up the steps on the side of the ship, his hand securely wrapped around your thigh to keep you from falling, and when he seemingly appeared behind you as you admired your surroundings.

Then your eyes found his chest, strong pecs priding over his abs that seemed carved from the very marble that Michelangelo had used to sculpt David, each muscle defined with an almost perfect precision to it.

Just before you could take a good look at his black swim shorts hanging off his hips and hugging his beefy thighs, his voice called your name.

“Hey, come on, picture time,” he reiterated what he had said when you were still zoned out.

“Oh. Okay,” Throwing your thoughts back into reality, you watched as everyone made their way over to the discussed upon place where the photo would be taken.

“Who wants to set the timer?” A girl, who you’d forgotten the name of, asked.

Something with an F? L? A? Who cares.

“Not it!” Was called by everyone but you, your face quickly morphing from a surprised look of “who the hell still uses ‘not it’?” to an accepting face that you were in fact “it”.

The girls and boys all took their places on the netting of the boat. The 5 people in front of you got ready to pose for the group photo.

Efficiently, you adjusted the tripod so that the camera of the phone pointed perfectly towards the centre of everyone.

You bent down, looking at the screen of the mobile. You saw Drew depicted by many pixels, your thighs clenching when he moved his hips up to readjust his position on the midnight blue blanket that lay sprawled over the rough nylon net.

Fuck, he was perfect.

Of course, you fixed your hair one last time before pressing the white button on the right side of the device, starting the 10 second countdown until the picture.

Swiftly, you made your way around the tripod, and plopped down onto the free space between a dark haired guy, you’ve come to know as Matthew, and Drew. You smiled sweetly at the round circles on the back of the phone as Drew slung an arm around your shoulders.

Once the photo was taken, everyone scattered and the usual chatter was back. You ran up to the phone and you looked at the image.

Well fuck.

Drew looked absolutely freaking ethereal.

His sitting in a reclined position with one leg bent and the other stretched out, manspreading, almost made you go feral. He was smiling widely toward the camera, his impossibly bright grin attracting all the attention in the photo.

His body looked like a dream. For a moment, you thought maybe you were dreaming, if you were you would hold onto the memory of the photo, even if it was just a dream, for the rest of your life.

God, pining for your hot best friend made you sound so so pathetic.

The thought that what you were experiencing was just a dream was snapped in two like a twig when Drew came up from behind you and flicked your bare back.

“Ouch!” You exclaimed, a frown forming on your face.

“‘M sorry, princess,” he swung his arms over your shoulders, holding on to you from behind like a koala would his mother, peering at the screen in your hands.

“Did it turn out good?” He asked casually, acting as if he didn’t see how your face was blushing an awfully deep shade of red and don’t even start to think that he missed the way you were obviously turned on.

“Yup,” you answered curtly, ducking down to be released of any physical contact with him, because you felt as if you would melt if he touched you a second longer.

“I’m um… gonna go below deck. The sun uh- it’s hitting me pretty hard right now. I have a headache,” you lied, coming up with some excuse to just get yourself somewhere where you can have your alone time.

“O…kay…” He didn’t seem convinced but that wasn’t for you to deal with in that moment. You made your way down the stairs leading below the deck of the ship, the room was nice and cozy.

With a sigh of relief you sat down on a wooden bench near the kitchen and slipped your phone out of your purse.

After a few minutes of mindlessly scrolling through various social media apps you heard footsteps nearing you, causing you to look up.

Your eyes met none other than Drew Starkey himself.

“On your phone when you have a headache? Really?” He asked unamused. “You lyin’ about the headache or you just stupid?”

“Stupid…?” you offered in a quiet meek voice.

“C’mon, sweetheart, what’s the problem, huh? You don’t like my friends or something?” He questioned as he sat himself down next to you on the oak plank.

“No, no, they’re great, I just…” You really should have been able to come up with something to say but the way his forearm was flexing as it rested on his thigh distracted you.

A smirk grew on Drew’s face. “No yeah, I uh-“ he chucked as he shook his head in what looked like slight disbelief, “I know.”

Unsure of the true meaning behind his comment you averted your eyes to the floor, focusing on the swaying of the boat on the water instead of Drew’s piercing blue eyes staring intently at you.

He leaned back with a sigh, his legs spreading wider and his arm sneaking behind your back and around your waist. “You’re kind of ridiculous, you know that?”

All you could do was nod which earned you yet another laugh from Drew.

Just as you were about to persuade yourself to actually speak, you were pulled onto Drew’s lap by his arm, his hands quickly settling you on his thighs.

“Wha-“

“I know, princess,” he cooed.

You know you should have felt at least slightly degraded or mad because of his tone but the only thing it did, was make you want to clench your thighs together. Which of course wasn’t possible because each of your legs rested on different sides of Drew.

“You look so pretty today, baby,” he said, tucking some loose strands of hair behind your ear before moving his face down to your neck and pressing soft, fleeting, sensational kisses to the side of your collar.

Your breathing became panted and you unintentionally slowly rubbed your core along the material of his pitch black swim trunks.

“Not even a thank you?” He murmured teasingly as his kisses walked over to the area right under your ear and his large hands gripped your hips harshly, stopping you from any further movement.

“Th- thank you…” You whispered, your tone dipped and coated in your lust and arousal.

You felt a small nip on your throat that made you let out a small “Ah-!”

“Thank you…?” He muttered expectantly.

“Sir?” You tried, getting your confirmation of that being the wrong answer when a more harsh bite was left just under your jawline.

“Daddy..” you practically moaned out, the small pleasure that you got from the bites making you rut against Drew’s strong hold on your body.

“Good girl…” he praised, his face finally coming up to meet yours, kissing you softly but also at the same time with an unforeseeable force.

His fingers stopped drilling into the skin over your hipbones, letting you push your aching core down onto his covered thigh.

He broke the kiss, his plump lips and hot breath trailing over your cheek as you both gasped from air.

His hand roughly grabbed the back of your head, wrapping his fingers around your messy hair, holding you tight against him.

Immediately after, his other hand took hold of your hip again, helping you grind down on his swim pants.

“That’s right, baby, use daddy’s leg,” he breathed out heavily.

“Such,” he pressed a sloppy kiss to your jawline, “a,” another kiss was placed on the corner of your mouth, “good,” he said before pecking your lips, “girl,” he murmured into your mouth before shoving his tongue down your throat.

The press of his thigh onto your bikini bottom made a perfect friction emerge against your clit, sending jolts of pleasure through you.

“What about-“ you started.

“I locked the door, sweetheart, no worries.”

The way he basically read your mind made you feel even more turned on.

Your folds rubbed back and forth in your

soaking wet swim bottoms as you gripped Drew’s shoulders tightly, eyes squeezed shut as he continued to spew out praise after praise to you.

Suddenly a knock resounded throughout the room, a sudden halt coming to your despicable actions.

“Hello? Anyone in here? Why is the door locked?” A female voice asked from the other side of the door.

“One second!” Drew called before returning his attention to you.

“We’ll finish this later, yeah?” All you could do was nod, still completely dazed.

He picked you up off his lap, helping you settle back into a standing position and smoothing out both of your guys’ clothes.

With a casual smile on his face he unlocked and opened the door, spouting out some excuse for the door being locked before leading you upstairs with him.

For the rest of the afternoon, you sat, with a drink in hand, watching Drew talk amongst his friends, his eyes flicking to you every once in a short while.

Once other people started leaving and the sun started setting, he walked up to you.

“Ready to leave, princess?”

“Uh-huh,” you uttered out, standing up and saying your goodbyes to everyone that still found themselves on the yacht.

As you walked down the dock, admiring the sunset, you gripped onto Drew’s arm.

“Everything okay?” He asked.

You looked up at him with an “Are you serious?” face, annoyed at his nonchalant antics.

“Gee, sorry, okay?” He chuckled.

“I’ll make you feel good soon. Don’t worry, little lady.”

@emma-e-a

[strawbuddy-luv]

Trans Tim off handedly mentioning random things that just confuse people more and more because he never told them he was trans (only Bruce and Alfred know)

Tim: "For the mission I'm thinking I'll go undercover, but it'll take some work to hide the bruises I got earlier. They're everywhere"

Dick: "Oh I think Steph is free right now!"

Tim: "...Ok?"

Dick: "Don't worry I'm sure she'll help you out with this! "

Tim: "That's awesome but I don't think I'll need help. I know how to use makeup."

Dick: "Really-? Ohhh, yeah your public image is like, way more public than ours. That must be tiring, having to hide the bruises all the time."

Tim: "Well yeah but I knew how to use makeup before that. For like, galas as a kid and stuff"

Dick: "...yeah..."

-----

Steph: -Complaining about a man- "And then he said "Oh you should smile more" like "you look like you don't want to be here" like what- what the fuck-??? Maybe I fucking don't dude."

Tim: "Oh yeah I hate when they do that. Like you've spent the entire time bitching about the consistency of snails, I can close my mouth for a few seconds."

Steph: "..."

Tim: "...What-?"

Steph: "Well- I mean yeah but- you know I have to deal with it like...way more, and it's just a bit weird that like, you as a guy are, I dunno, trying to relate? I mean you don't have to deal with it litreally everyday"

Tim: "Well yeah not anymore, but, you know...I still did."

Steph: :...What-"

-----

Tim: -Resting against one of the rooftop ledges-

Jason: "Woah, I can't believe it, Red Robin, slacking. What would Bruce do if he saw this!"

Tim: "Fuck off, it's just period cramps." -Jumps off the edge of the building-

Jason: "Yeah whatever Timblina...

Your fucking what-"

-----

Bruce: "And for this mission, we'll be needing someone for the Caroline disguise, but we already know who that is so-"

Dick: "Wait does Steph actually know how to fight in heels-??"

Bruce: "...N-"

Steph: "Yeah Bruce, I mean, you could at least actually ask me before volunteering me to go fight crime in that dress."

Bruce: "You-"

Jason: "I mean no offense, but literally who else would do it? Cass isn't here right now and I don't think any of us are willing to get a boob job for the mission"

Bruce: "No one's getting a boob job-"

Steph: "Yeah! This is bat tech, Bruce probably has ultra realistic titties in everyone's color and size! Jason you wouldn't even need an attachment."

Jason: "I don't think Caroline Hills has fifty gun shot wounds and muscles the size of most those guys heads."

Steph: "Yeah bu-"

Bruce: "None of that will be necessary because none of you" -Pointing at the right side of the table- "Will be going. No one at this table will be needing any prosthetics...Or boob jobs."

Steph: "...Ok but who the fuck is going then-"

Bruce: "Tim."

The entire table: "..."

Steph: "Tim are you really willing to put on boobs for this-"

Dick: "I don't think that's the best idea-"

Jason: "You just said no prosthetics- Oh this'll be fucking rich"

Tim: "...

I...wouldn't need a boob job?? Or prosthetics?"

Jason: "Timbo, that dress is a pretty low cut, and, no offense, your training hasn't given you that many enhancements."

Tim: "...Thank you for the binding compliment?"

Dick: "The what-"

Tim: "Guys I- I already have boobs-"

The Table: "..."

Steph: "WHAT-"

Dick: "You do-?!"

Jason: "Bruce if you made Tim get boobs for some weird mission-"

Tim: "What- No! No one made me get boobs??? Besides, I don't know, biology I guess??? Genetics maybe???"

Dick: "...I'm extremely confused"

Steph: "WHO GAVE YOU BOOBS-???"

Tim: "I'm not really sure seeing as I was born with them"

Dick: "...

OHHHHHH-"

Steph: "What- is this like a birth defect or something???"

Dick: "Tim- Tim I think you're just gonna have to-"

Tim: "I'm trans."

Jason: "...That's-

Yeah

Ok yeah no that- that explains...a lot."

Steph: "..." -Head in hands- "I am such a fucking idiot"

[shinig6mis]

part one

the music was loud. bass-heavy beats rattled the walls, drowning out drunken conversations and the occasional, ear-splitting whoo! from someone who’d had one too many shots. the house was packed, every square inch filled with people who weren’t you.

and yet, katsuki saw only you.

leaning against the kitchen counter, drink in hand, your head tilted back as you laughed at something some random asshole said. katsuki barely registered the guy’s face. all he saw was the way your smile stretched wide, the way your hand rested lightly on the counter, the way you weren’t paying attention to him.

his grip on his own cup tightened.

eijiro had ditched him ages ago, somewhere between his third beer and his “dude, i gotta check on my little sister.” which meant you were supposed to be under watch. which meant you shouldn’t be standing here, giggling at some nobody like you didn’t have a six-foot, red-haired menace for a brother who was ready to kick some ass.

“off limits, dude.”

bullshit.

katsuki wasn’t the type to step in unless absolutely necessary. but this? this was necessary.

he stormed over, his presence sucking the air from the room the second he got close. the guy talking to you faltered mid-sentence, side-eyeing katsuki like he’d just realized he’d been trespassing.

“oh—uh... hey, man, what’s up?”

“scram.”

the guy blinked.

“what?”

katsuki took another step forward, eyes glinting under the dim, neon glow of the kitchen lights.

“you deaf? i said scram.”

he didn’t have to say it twice.

you rolled your eyes as your partner scurried off, not wanting to test his luck against bakugou katsuki.

“really?” you sighed, crossing your arms. “was that necessary?”

“you tell me,” katsuki muttered, his eyes flicking over you, lingering on your lips that have stopped smiling.

you looked too damn good tonight. soft, glowing skin, a dress that hugged your curves, hair falling over your shoulders like you were some kind of problem sent to ruin him.

his jaw clenched.

“he was totally harmless,” you continued, sipping your drink. “not that it’s any of your business.”

his business?

katsuki narrowed his eyes, stepping closer, close enough that you had to tilt your chin up to keep eye contact.

“the hell it ain’t,” he muttered.

he expected you to shove him, roll your eyes, call him dramatic. instead, you just looked at him like you were finally seeing the way his fists clenched at his sides. the way his breath hitched when you leaned in, just slightly, your voice dropping to something sweeter.

“oh?” you tilted your head, lips curving mischievously. “then what is it to you, katsuki?”

fuck.

there always seemed to be something so dangerous about having his name on your lips. it made his head spin and something hot and restless coil in his stomach.

this was bad.

he exhaled, forcing his gaze away, forcing himself to move before he did something stupid.

like kiss you.

“eijiro’s looking for you,” he muttered, turning on his heel. “get your ass back to him before he starts losing his shit.”

he didn’t wait for your reaction. didn’t stick around to see the way your brows furrowed or how you chewed on your lip like you were holding something back.

he just walked away with his fists clenched yet again.

off limits, my ass.

© 2025 shinig6mis | do not plagiarize, repost, or translate any of my work.