#this was the big project i was talking about...

[baronessvonglitter]

paying off the debt

joel x fem!plus size!reader x clint | wc: 1.6k

summary: when your husband doesn't pay his debt, the two men coming to collect decide on a different form of payment

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Explicit. DDDNE. TW: non-con. Dub-con. Infidelity. Unprotected p in v. Oral (m & f receiving). Degradation. Slut shaming. Titty slapping. Nipple play. Dacryphilia. Anal fingering. Spanking. Creampie. Reader is plus sized and wears a silk nightgown, has female genitalia and breasts but is otherwise not described. A few mentions of another Pedro-char not shown. Never beta'd because this all happened so quickly, dear god. If I've missed anything please let me know!

a/n: this is my submission for the Magic Number Writing Challenge hosted by @mothandpidgeon , @schnarfer , and @whocaresstillthelouvre ❤️ I have wanted to write something for these Clint and Joel for the longest! And I hope I've done Clint justice, as it's my first time writing him. (He owns me, heart and soul.)

Shoutout to @milla-frenchy who is the Queen of Hot Threeways and who was my cheerleader for this little daydream-turned-writing project. You're the best, Milla!

dividers by @firefly-graphics 👑

JOEL MILLER MASTERLIST | FULL MASTERLIST

You'd only ever caught glimpses of Clint between a crack in the door or through the blinds when he'd come by to speak to your husband. A big, scary, intimidating man like him, rough-looking, though handsome, face decorated with scars.

And now he's between your legs, slurping away at your pussy while his buddy, another big, strong man referred to as Joel pins your arms over your head on the other side.

It was just after seven a.m. when they knocked and you, still in your white silk nightie from last night, answered it, still half-asleep, not thinking.

"We're here for payback, little lady," Clint had growled, hands on your hips as he pushed his way into your home, Joel at his heels. "Tried to talk some sense into your husband but it ain't takin'. Now we gotta show him we mean business."

Now you're sprawled on your bed, still unmade at the early hour, Clint's tongue plundering your cunt while Joel's big hands hold you down, thumb lightly stroking over your wrists, as if to soothe you, as if it's a romantic tryst you're engaging in.

Shocked into submission, you let it happen, too overwhelmed by his ravenous appetite to think about anything else. Clint swirls his tongue around your bud before teasing your folds, licking at the jucture between your thigh and torso, eyes lifting to watch your expression, to see you slightly struggling against being pinned down. He knows he's got you, and with his lips sealed around your needy clit, it's game over. He holds you down as your hips lift off the bed, still in control, keeping at it while you drench him.

"There now, see, that wasn't so bad," he murmurs, getting to his feet as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. "Damn, you're so pretty when you come.."

"She is," Joel agrees in his gruff voice.

"I was just getting you ready for me. Trust me, little darlin', you can't handle me without getting ready first."

The moan that escapes your lips is absolutely sinful. His cock is a stretch to fit, even as wet as you are, your cunt takes time to elongate, housing him deep within your center. And though he doesn't give you time to adapt to his size, he does go slow and steady, your thighs bracketing his as he thrusts lazily, looking down at the way your silk nightie is pushed up over your generous hips. He tells Joel to push the top half down, and when he does they both paw greedily at your tits.

"Dave likes 'em thick, huh?" Clint growls with a punctuated thrust. "Round ass, big tits.. and tight pussy."

At the mention of your husband's name you whimper, teeth sinking into your bottom lip in shame. You shouldn't be enjoying what's being done to you. They're doing it for themselves, to send a message. But you're getting off on being their plaything.

"She's lovin' it." Joel's fondling you, pinching your nipples and giving them a few light slaps. That and Clint fucking you is starting to send you over the edge.

"Yeah she does," Clint says proudly. "She probably can't even come unless someone's holdin' her down." He nods at Joel to let go of your arms. You keep them there, flexing your hands as the circulation finds its way back to your wrists.

"She likes it!"

"Little slut."

Clint picks up the pace, spurred on by your neediness. Your hips find his rhythm and match it, drawing him in deeper. "That's right," he rasps. "Touch yourself. Lemme see you work that pretty little clit."

Your fingers desperately circle your nub, working yourself into a frenzy as he fucks into you, spreading you open on his fat cock. Above you, Joel leans down to suck your nipples. You lick your tongue along his cheek until he stops to kiss you, plundering your mouth with his tongue.

"She's fuckin' feral," Clint growls, shoving himself into you ruthlessly. "Keep that mouth of hers busy, Joel. She's about to explode soon."

Joel unzips his jeans, pulling out his thick length. Head to the side, your mouth waters at the sight of it, long, cut, girthier than Clint, with precum already beading the top. You don't have to be told twice to suck it. Your lips wrap around it as he holds the base, feeding it to you. Clint slows down marginally, watching you start to suck off his friend.

Joel thrusts shallowly, going deeper when you start moaning. "Gonna bruise the back of your throat, honey."

"That's right, gag her," Clint adds. "She wants it. She's fuckin' dyin' for it."

You're drooling around Joel's cock, his balls hitting your chin as you're moaning around him, incoherent, gluttonous, insensate.

"Fucked her stupid," Clint sneers. "Time to give her what she wants.." He's panting as he takes hold of your thighs, hoisting them around his hips and slamming into you, the lewd sounds of your colliding flesh the most obscene and perfect thing you've ever heard.

"Your husband know he married such a slut?" Clint continues to taunt, breath growing heavy as he nears the edge. "Gonna show him when he gets home.." His hips stutter before he spills deep inside you, and as you moan your throat constricts around Joel, who pulls out before he can blow his load into your mouth.

You're vaguely aware of them switching places, and then you're put on your hands and knees. You don't care; you're not in control. Your body is simply a funfair, a ride to go on, and it's a kind of freedom in just letting them do what they want. They're still taking care of you, Joel rubbing his length against your still-sensitive clit, sliding in between your folds and between your ass cheeks before he notches at your entrance. You're soaking wet with your fluids and Clint's jizz, making the way easier for Joel to slide in, an appreciative sigh leaving his lips. Your moan is muffled by Clint's semi-hard dick probing your lips, your tongue coming out to swirl around the crown.

"She's so good," he moans, running his fingers through your hair. "She's makin' it all up to us for her sorry-ass husband's debt."

"Gotta come around more often, pay her a little visit when Dave's out," Joel says with a sneer, his large hands digging into your hips as he thrusts home, bottoming out as your cunt squelches wantonly.

"Suckin' me so good," Clint moans again. "Get a taste of yourself on my dick, darlin'. I bet your husband doesn't give you his dick often enough, that's why you're beggin' for it from us, huh?"

You moan as his tip touches the back of your throat and you gag. "Eyes on me," he tells you. "Lemme see those pretty eyes waterin' while it's chokin' my dick."

He's bruising your throat, your mouth stuffed with him as you practice breathing through your nose. Meanwhile Joel's balls deep in your cunt, watching himself slide in and out with ease. His thumb traces the puckered outline of your asshole. "Your man ever take you here? He ever claim this tight little hole?" He spits on your hole and eases his thumb in just enough to make you squeeze around him. "I bet Dave's never even touched it. Probably never even asked, has he?"

"He asked you a question," Clint says sharply, squeezing your jaw in his hand. "You better answer him."

"No," you answer them, swallowing more air after Clint removes his cock from your mouth. He slaps your cheeks with it before feeding it to you again. "Good girl," he praises softly, something like kindness in his eyes as he palms your tits, kneading them softly.

"Poor thing's been so unfulfilled. Her pussy's only gotten wetter the more we talk about her like the piece of meat she is." Joel's hand lands with a hard smack on your ass and you yelp.

"It's the only thing she's good for," Clint agrees, holding your head still while he fucks your mouth. Your moans turn to an endless, tuneless hum as Joel speeds up, sensing you're close to coming for him. "Fuck, she's tight. She's damn near gonna drain me."

"Fill 'er up, Joel. Get it in there nice and deep so she'll be leaking both of us for days."

Joel's face contorts, brow furrowed, teeth bared as he gets close, and right as you come he pulses within you, shooting his cream into you.

"Turn her over," Clint barks, and Joel takes just a moment more to keep the feeling of your sweet snatch around him before pulling out. A little semen dribbles from you and he stuffs it back in as he moves you onto your back.

"Pretty little white nightie," he sneers. "Gonna give you somethin' else white to wear."

Your nightdress still hiked up over your thighs and pulled down showing off your breasts, Clint stands between your legs and strokes himself. With a few pleasured grunts he comes, painting your mound and belly. You're panting, trying to come down from the summit of the strongest orgasm of your life as they spread your legs, lift your knees up to view the damage.

"Jesus, this pussy's ruined."

"She's gaping."

"Keep our cum inside you, baby, as long as you can. Let your man watch it drip out when he comes home."

You're too fucked out to say anything as the men take their leave, staring up at the ceiling fan, slowly circling in the early summer heat.

"Dave's not gonna like that," you hear one of them mutter.

"Fuck Dave. He should've paid up."

taglist: @itwasntimethatdidit40 @tateypots @thedilfdiaries @sunshinehaze1

and anyone else who reads this, I love you so much ❤️

[dreamersparacosm]

Girl we need a smut blurb for them , im talking wild sex . I’ll take anything I know they’re both freaked out

well, well, well. you put two overachievers in a bed and what’s going to happen? magic, that’s what. or maybe he’ll just use your vibrator as part of your scheduled stress relief. whatever.

the price of desire — epilogue blurb 3!

prompt ; in which stress relief takes on a whole new definition.

warnings ; sex toy usage, fingering, jungkook cums in his pants

There are worse problems to have, you tell yourself.

Ever since you and Jungkook officially started dating, things have gotten a little… out of hand (and by “out of hand,” you mean fucking each other senseless across multiple continents.)

Obviously it started in New York and Seoul. Then it was Paris. You two dabbled in exhibitionism during a trip to Bali. Now it’s whatever remote, paparazzi-proof destinations your travel agent nervously books for you at 2 in the morning.

Hotels, apartments, rental cars, bathrooms you’re pretty sure were not designed to withstand the kind of behavior you’re inflicting on them. At this point, it’s becoming a global crisis. International security agencies may want to get involved.

It’s getting so frequent, so mind-numbingly good, that you’re starting to worry about yourself a little. Like, is it normal to see god every weekday?

Unclear.

But it is nice, really nice, to relieve that stress that weighs on you after a workday. (And god knows you have plenty of that to go around.)

Jungkook is, if nothing else, very committed to the cause. He takes care of you painfully well, as if it’s his full-time job and the only acceptable performance review is your legs shaking too hard to stand.

Case in point: you’re currently spread out across your bed in New York, lips swollen from a makeout, hair damp from the bath he ran for you, and he’s kneeling between your legs, big palms dragging slow strokes up and down your thighs.

It's a perfect Wednesday night, all safe and soft and steady until he drops his suggestion into the quiet.

“Let me use the vibrator on you, baby.”

Your brain, already half-melted from the hour-long slow burn he’s been subjecting you to, scrambles for purchase.

You are not equipped for this on a Wednesday night. Especially not after a 14 hour workday, 2 back-to-back global strategy calls, and a last minute crisis involving a Calvin Klein store opening in Shanghai.

You open your mouth to respond, yet nothing makes its way out.

Jungkook smiles at you with amusement and reaches over to the nightstand like it’s the most casual thing in the world. As if he didn’t casually drop a bomb into the atmosphere of your previously scheduled stress-relief session.

With bulging eyes, you observe as he pulls open the drawer, rummages around for a second, and then holds up your light purple vibrator in his hands.

The device is small and sleek, manages to look mockingly innocent resting in his palm.

You stare at it, then at him, mouth working like a fish suddenly introduced to the concept of air.

"I—" You stutter eloquently.

He responds with that signature grin, the one that makes you want to throw a pillow at his face and climb him like a tree. "Come on, baby," he coaxes, "You said you were stressed. Think of this as... advanced relaxation techniques."

You narrow your eyes suspiciously. "This wasn't exactly what I meant by 'stress relief.'"

"What's the worst that could happen?" he asks innocently, setting the vibrator down beside you before leaning close to press a kiss against your inner knee. "You enjoy yourself too much?"

"The audacity," You roll your eyes, trying and failing to suppress the shiver his touch sends up your spine.

"It’s like.. a scientific experiment," he continues, trailing featherlight kisses up your thigh. "Testing the effects of a vibrator on stress."

"Did you just turn my vibrator into a science fair project?"

His laugh rumbles against your skin. "I'm innovative like that. Always thinking about my subject’s satisfaction."

"You’re not selling it," You sigh but there's no heat behind it.

"I'm persistent," he corrects, looking up at you with darkened eyes. "And also extremely dedicated to your wellbeing. Just say yes."

You can’t look at him. With his mess of black hair falling over his forehead, with his eyes displaying a glint of mischief and the stupid Calvin Klein white t-shirt that drives you crazy. He’s so fucking hot, and it brings you to the brink of temporary insanity. That’s how you got in this mess in the first place.

What you need to be doing is saying no. Set some kind of a boundary. Be a strong, independent woman who does not immediately fold at the suggestion of midweek sex toy experimentation.

You do none of those things. Rather, you sigh and flop back against the pillows, one arm flung dramatically over your eyes.

“Fine,” you mutter like he’s inconveniencing you. “Whatever. Just don’t break my toy.”

You hear him laugh, a rich velvety rumble that vibrates through you while the mattress dips beneath his weight as he repositions himself closer to your core.

Before you even take your next breath, he’s kissing up your thighs, hands stroking the backs of your knees, your calves, your hips.

The vibrator hums to life; it’s soft at first, a low sound and your stomach flips violently.

Curiosity compels you to emerge from behind your self-imposed blindfold just in time to witness his gaze fixed upon you. He is a hungry man, you’ll give him that much.

Which leads you to your next thought: you’re not even sure why you bothered putting on underwear after the bath. A small, defeated part of you wants to blame some lingering sense of dignity, some naive attempt at not being completely easy just because your boyfriend washed your hair like a Disney prince and kissed your shoulder after.

Whatever weak attempt at decency you made is long gone the second Jungkook hooks his fingers into the waistband of your panties and starts dragging them down. Thumbs brushing over the dip of your hips like he’s memorizing every line, every secret part of you he already owns.

The cotton peels away from your thighs, and the cool air hits your core, makes you shiver. He works them down over your knees, then your ankles, tossing them somewhere behind him without a second thought.

You’re already squirming a little, hips shifting against the mattress, thighs clenching reflexively, but he just chuckles under his breath before reaching for the hem of your oversized T-shirt. (Technically his T-shirt. Technically yours now. He stopped fighting that battle months ago.)

Slowly, he pushes it up, bunching it around your waist, exposing the soft skin of your belly, the slick glistening between your legs that you’re trying very hard not to feel embarrassed about.

A single finger gets dragged between your folds, dipping into the mess he’s barely even touched you to create, and you can’t help the broken little gasp that escapes your mouth. “Oh—“

Jungkook lifts his hand and holds it up between you. Your slick clings to his finger. Shining in the soft light your lamp provides.

The bastard. How dare he provide proof of your demise.

He raises a brow smugly. “Already this wet, baby?” He teases.

You glare at him, or at least try, but it’s hard to summon the proper outrage when your body is practically vibrating with need.

“Shut the fuck up,” You grumble.

He laughs and settles himself back between your thighs. The toy hums softly beside you, still on the lowest setting and when he picks it up again, your stomach nearly exits your body.

He strokes the inside of your thigh with his free hand, “Ready?” He asks. Jungkook’s always been sure to consent; you do know he’s genuinely asking for permission.

You nod, frantic, willing to sell your soul if he would just please, please touch you already.

Oh god.

Oh fuck.

For the love of everything holy.

You jolt forward violently the second the vibrator touches your clit. Even on the lowest setting it’s too much, white-hot pleasure snapping up your spine and exploding behind your eyes.

“Fuck—” You gasp, whole body twitching, hands scrambling for something to hold onto.

A string of curse words falls out of your mouth before you can stop them, completely and deliriously out of your control.

Jungkook smiles, presses his palm flat against your thigh to pin you down. “You’re so sensitive tonight,” He notes, somewhat amused.

You might cry. God damn him for being so perfect to you that he’s holding a vibrator to you and not making comments about how “he could do it better.”

You settle for grabbing a fistful of the bedsheets and moaning helplessly when he adjusts the angle slightly, nudging the vibrator a little higher until your hips are jerking against the mattress.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, thumb rubbing slow circles into your thigh. “Let me take care of you.”

Alright, you’re not afraid to admit — maybe you didn’t care much for his definition of stress relief before.

But now? Now you need it more than anything.

You’re a mess; panting, moaning, hips twitching up and it’s still on the lowest setting.

You risk a glance down your body, and the sight nearly undoes you. Jungkook is watching you intensely, brows drawn, lip ring caught between his teeth, arms flexing where he’s bracing you open.

The look on his face alone could make you finish.

“Please,” you gasp. “M-More.”

He nods once, like he’s been waiting for you to ask. “Yeah, baby?” he’s clearly out of breath, thumb brushing over your thigh in grounding circles. “I got you.”

Jungkook clicks the vibrator up to the medium setting, and the second the stronger vibration hits your clit, your back arches clean off the bed, a cry ripping from your throat. There’s a hum that comes from low in his throat while he presses a kiss to your inner thigh.

“You’re so good for me,” He says against your skin. “So desperate already. Bet you could cum just like this, couldn’t you? Just from how good it feels?”

His tattooed fingers squeeze your flesh harder, holding you open, keeping you steady, and the way he’s looking at you makes you want to sob, truthfully.

Jungkook drags the vibrator in slow circles over your clit, keeping you teetering right on the edge before mercifully setting it down beside you. You barely have time to breathe before he’s spitting into his hand and sliding two fingers between your thighs.

The second he pushes them inside your entrance, you buck violently, a whine tearing out of your mouth. “F-fuck—”

You feel impossibly full already, walls clenching around the stretch, the slick sounds embarrassingly loud in the otherwise silent room.

Jungkook groans mostly to himself, head dropping forward to watch where he’s sinking into you.

“God, baby,” he exhales, curling his fingers in that way that makes your toes curl too. “You’re so fucking wet.“

You moan helplessly. Obviously, the man must be trying to kill you. A death wish of sorts. He works his fingers inside you, dragging them along that sweet spot that has you keening into the mattress before reaching over with his free hand to flick the vibratot back on.

He sets it to the highest setting — and holy mother — you nearly catapult off the bed. The intense, overwhelming buzz against your clit paired with the slow pump of his fingers inside you is absolutely lethal.

You choke on some form of a gasp, thighs jerking. All thoughts of work, stress, the world outside this room — gone. Obliterated.

Jungkook, flushed and sweaty, arm veins flexing with every stroke of his fingers, can’t take his eyes off the mess you’re making on your sheets beneath you.

Your thighs are trembling violently now, little spasms you can’t control. You try — god, you want it noted you do try — to keep your hips still, to hold off a little longer.

But the man is evidently on a mission. Fingers fucking into you deep and steady, the vibrator merciless against your clit, voice rougher than normal: “Cum for me, baby. I wanna see it. Wanna feel you cum all over my fingers. Please.”

You’re way past the point of rational thought. Spinning out. Every nerve ending burning hot under your skin.

“Fuck—” you sob. “Kook— I’m gonna— oh fuck, fuckfuck—”

Neither of you get to find out what you’re “gonna” before the orgasm tears through you viscerally, a full-body convulsion that has you crying out and grabbing onto his wrist.

Your toes curl involuntarily against the sheets while your thighs close around his head, stomach muscles clenching before your whole body lets itself fall into the pleasure.

For one disorienting moment, your vision actually blurs at the edges — a genuine blackout that some doctor could probably explain but you're certainly in no condition to contemplate — while somewhere in the distance you hear yourself gasping his name in a way that makes you grateful these walls are soundproof.

You’re panting when it finally ebbs, chest heaving, pussy clenching desperately around his fingers. Jungkook presses a kiss to your thigh again, slowly eases his fingers out and shuts off the vibrator that's become both your nemesis and savior in the span of minutes.

There’s a quiet that feels almost startling compared to your thundering heartbeat.

You’re floating somewhere, the bed seeming to perform a gentle carousel spin around you when he grabs your face gently with both hands and kisses you. You kiss him back automatically, pulling him closer by the front of his shirt.

Through the haze, you murmur against his mouth, “Take your sweatpants off. Wanna fuck you.”

He responds with a groan, pressing his forehead against yours. Insistently, you tug at the waistband, whining a little when he resists.

“Come on,” you mumble, still half-drunk off your orgasm. “I need you.”

He makes a choked sound and pulls back to look you in the eye. His body moves to lean against your headboard, and you scooch over to kiss down his neck while he tries to come up with whatever excuse he can.

And then comes the confession, tripping awkwardly from his lips. “I… uh…”

Your eyes narrow into spiteful little slits, pulling away from him.

He winces, a full-body cringe that would be adorable under other circumstances but currently only amplifies your confusion.

“I… I came already,” He confesses, so low you almost don’t catch it.

Jeon Jungkook? The Jeon Jungkook… came in his boxers like a teenage virgin.. from using your vibrator against you?

You blink repeatedly, brain attempting to process this unexpected plot twist.

“What?” You say dumbfounded.

He covers his face with one large hand in the universal gesture of mortification, ears betraying him by flushing a deep crimson even in the room's low light.

“You— you… came? Just from—?”

Your boyfriend groans, clearly exploring the possibility of spontaneous human combustion as a merciful escape route.

“You looked so good,” he murmurs into his palm. “I couldn’t— fuck, I tried to hold it—”

You stare at him for another second. Then, completely against your will, you burst out laughing. It spills out in waves that are equal parts exhaustion, affection, and perhaps a whisper of mockery, but your attempts to suppress it prove to be futile.

Jungkook glares at you weakly through his fingers.

“You’re an idiot,” you giggle, “My idiot.”

He grumbles something unintelligible while pulling you firmly against his chest, a transparent attempt to muffle your laughter and hide his reddening face but your giggles persist. At some point, you do take the opportunity he presents to nestle your face into the warm crook of his neck, breathing in the familiar scent of his cologne, a chuckle exiting once every few minutes.

All things considered?

Not a bad way to spend a Wednesday night. Not bad at all.

masterlist + ask

[bi4bisamjess]

Travis Martinez: Masculinity and Control in Yellowjackets

sorry for the pretentious title. i need to talk about travis for a second. i have a consistent mythos in my head about who he is as a character that i forget people don't have. yes i am embarrassed. incredibly long meta under the cut.

First and foremost, I think it is so important to remember that this guy is a LOSER. He's never been to a school dance. He got made fun of and given a cruel nickname in the 7th grade that has stuck with him all throughout high school. He hates his dad, or at least has complex feelings about him. He's never had sex. He is so insecure that it is laughable.

We can only assume that Travis's dad shaped some of his perceptions of what it means to be a man. In the pilot, we have Coach Martinez honestly, if not cruelly, tell Jackie her worth is in her influence and that she is not particularly skilled at soccer. Coach Martinez's office has several pictures of his family, yet seems distant from his wife and Travis when they leave for nationals. We can see Travis's complex relationship with masculinity (misogyny with Nat's perceived sexual history, stoicism, and aggression to mask emotional distress), and can only assume that a stoic, critical, and distant father is one of the reasons for this. But we could also discuss 90s masculinity and cultural influence as well.

Travis was not (obviously written to be) athletically skilled as a kid, and is not mentioned to be on a sports team. He had a spinal fusion at 13, presumably due to some chronic health issue like scoliosis. His father invests time into the Yellowjackets team, and we see Ben describe them in flashbacks as monsters, so clearly there is some sort of reverence Coach Martinez has for ruthlessness and success. In the original script of episode 4 (I think), we see Travis described as a "sensitive kid trying hard not to be" (or something along those lines), and I can certainly see resentment building between Travis and the Yellowjackets as they represent everything his dad wanted him to be-- athletically skilled, successful, and cut throat. He is resistant to receiving help, outright lashes out in order to maintain this fragile identity as masculine and independent.

He has an interesting sibling relationship with Javi where he is simultaneously trying to force his own thoughts of their father onto him ("Dad was a dick") and protect him from the reality/brutality of their situation (does not tell Javi he dug up the body for the ring). Coach Martinez gives Javi gum for the flight, a gesture of care, and seemingly does not extend the same to Travis. We see Javi as innocent, naive, and artistic. He is presumably unaware of the marital problems in their family, while Travis is. Where Travis resents the Yellowjackets for the attention they receive from his father, he resents Javi because he is supported emotionally and allowed to be soft.

He values honesty, and the audience can see this in seasons one and two– Nat obscuring her relationship with Bobby Farleigh is the initial reason why they break up in 1x7, Nat planting Javi’s shorts is similarly a big point of contention. He is quick to project his own insecurities onto other people, namely Nat-- any skill or sexual experience she has is an attack on his worth as a man. He consistently sabotages his relationship with her by lashing out, not because Nat is doing anything wrong, but because he is afraid of being perceived as not good enough.

Travis’s arc throughout the show is interesting, especially because the audience sees Travis in season one obsessed with control of his own image, honesty, and power. By season two, he is willing to give in to spirituality-- in winter, he opens up to Lottie's "Wiccan bullshit", seeing ritual and belief as rejecting his own ego in a productive way. I have seen a good amount of people talk about how Travis's passivity in the second and third season is his way of protecting himself from the rest of the team, especially following his assault and almost murder in 1x9, but I think there is a little more nuance than just this. There is still an element of Travis seeking control within the routine of Lottie's spirituality. He cannot find Javi following the events of doomcoming, cannot find food in the winter months, cannot protect Shauna from the risk of childbirth, so he submits himself to drinking the tea Lottie prepares, praying, and ritual self harm.

Following Javi's death, we see Travis completely submit. He consumes his brother’s body not only to survive, but also to spiritually keep Javi with him. He eats Javi’s heart as a display of devotion, reverence, and attachment. His acceptance of Nat’s leadership comes from similar motivations, and this marks his almost complete relinquishment of autonomy within the group.

By season three, he is no longer hunting. He is completely detached from the team, past Lottie, Akilah, and the wilderness itself. He spends his time tripping on shrooms to “listen” when Lottie no longer can. It makes a lot of sense why fan opinion has gotten more positive– Travis this season is so passive that he becomes pathetic, both to the audience and the characters. Van, Tai, and Lottie each try to protect him, Akilah provides him with comfort. The rest of the group does not punish Travis for his lack of contribution as they did Jackie– they largely ignore him. And once his two main acts of autonomy (escaping with Kodiak, killing Lottie) fail, there is nothing left. He does not participate in the final hunt of Mari, and the group allows him to get drunk or high with no consequence. It is only when Travis is in Shauna's way that she cares about his lack of participation. The writers have officially connected the proud, aggressive season one Travis to what we know of him in the adult timeline– an isolated addict. He dies doing exactly what he did in the woods: trying to submit himself to meaning, to something bigger than himself, and dying for it.

[some-triangles]

This is the order of events as nearly as I can reconstruct them.

In 2008 I start following a webcomic called Problem Sleuth.

In 2009 Problem Sleuth wraps up. The author, Andrew Hussie, begins work on 🤡's next project, a mixed media piece called Homestuck.

In 2010 I become an evangelist for Homestuck. I spread the word to my college friend Stephen. He joins an online Homestuck RP group. I move to New York. That fall, Stephen visits me and introduces me to a guy from the group named Josh, who plays Rose. I am immediately infatuated.

In 2011 Stephen starts development on a real life Pesterchum app. I organize a Homestuck group cosplay and we go to Anime Central with our whole college anime club dressed up as trolls. I sit in a field with 50 Daves. I write my first Homestuck fanfiction, which is also my first anything fanfiction. Josh moves into my apartment. Stephen is dating a pair of bisexual cosplayers. Act 5 concludes. It is Peak Homestuck.

In 2012 my girlfriend tells me that I am no longer allowed to talk about Homestuck with her. The What Pumpkin organization - Homestuck is too big to be one person's project anymore - launches a kickstarter for a Homestuck video game, which raises 2.5 million dollars. At the same time, it is becoming clear that something is wrong with Homestuck itself. The author is fed up with the project but is now financially bound to it. The content becomes increasingly mean-spirited and critical of its audience as What Pumpkin tries to turn itself into a game company.

In 2013 What Pumpkin loses a significant chunk of its Kickstarter money - how much we'll never know - through a comical series of development boondoggles. Stephen launches a Kickstarter to fund an expansion of the Pesterchum app - now the haunt of a large online community - and What Pumpkin shuts it down. Josh no longer reads Homestuck but we're still living together and we start a podcast.

In 2014 Homestuck is mostly on hiatus. When it returns I start this blog, which was originally called "Two Triangles," after Dirk's shades. Most of the old crew have stopped caring about Homestuck but I am a die-hard. I write more fanfiction, mostly lesbian fluff. I begin to meet new people who are still invested in the whole thing. This and the podcast become the core of my new social world. Homestuck itself is getting more and more chaotic and diffuse but I still believe Andrew can tie it all together.

In 2015 I break. I write a fanfic called "Theatre of Coolty," which is my Dear John letter to Andrew Hussie. (I kill him in the story, which is par for the course.) It becomes the most popular thing I have ever made, and is most likely the most popular thing I ever will make. It is translated into multiple languages. A person called Naked Bee (who becomes another dear friend) turns it into a short film with puppets. I have grown to hate Homestuck but it is now my primary source of external validation and the foundation of my social media presence.

In 2016 Homestuck ends. The last year of its existence is an extraordinary act of creative self-erasure. Hussie vanishes by degrees, and by the time the finale rolls out no trace of 🤡's writing or art is left in the product. It is an abnegation worthy of Prospero. To complete this act of conceptual self-destruction, 🤡 ends up selling the entire product to Viz, who let it corrode. (Nine years later, homestuck.com is a dead link, mspaintadventures an abandoned swamp of broken pngs.) Meanwhile, I provide the narration for Bee's audio adaptation of a novel-length Homestuck fanfiction called Detective Pony, which she later turns into a feature film. The author of the fic/novel goes on to Kickstart a dating sim based on the 2016 Republican primary, which he calls Grand Old Academy. It has yet to be published.

In 2017 I leave New York. My friendship with Josh deteriorates and our podcast ends. I am no longer a Homestuck fan. As such I rebrand - the number of triangles I am is no longer anyone's business.

--

In 2021, Andrew Hussie releases a visual novel called Psycholonials. I do not read it.

--

In 2025, I am back in New York, albeit not in the city. I'm married to someone I met through this blog. Most of my closest friends are people I met either through Homestuck or through the projects that came out of it. Even my college friends - the ones I still talk to - are the ones who went through the wars with me. My wife thinks Psycholonials is worth reading. One night we sit down and play through it together.

Psycholonials is a nasty, nihilistic little story about a fucking idiot who accidentally creates a movement and then runs away like a bitch when it gets to be too much, back into the bosom of 🤡's trust fund. It's also really good. It has all the things I loved about Homestuck, all the stuff I missed as 🤡 left it to rot. It demonstrates that 🤡 is not washed, that the failure of Homestuck was not because 🤡 lost the juice. 🤡 abandoned us on purpose. 🤡 chose 🤡 over us.

This was objectively the correct decision. And when you come right down to it, 🤡 never signed up to change my life. It just happened.

Still, I can't say that it doesn't hurt a little, sitting here in my 40s. I guess everyone follows at least one failed messiah. So, yet another farewell to the cool big brother I never had. I hope this is the last one.

[sunflowerdigs]

Overall, that episode was completely underwhelming. Athena's case could have been solved from the start with a simple DNA test, so the time spent digging up the body and Athena investigating it just felt wasted. I get that part of the idea was Athena blowing up a case where she didn't need to, but everything the mother had gathered did give her cause to investigate. Hen should have pointed out how a simple DNA test would get Athena the answer she needed and we should have seen Athena acknowledge that. Otherwise, she just looks like a terrible detective and the whole storyline feels contrived by lazy writers. Angela Bassett was great, as always, especially in that scene with Hen, but the plot just didn't land for me

We didn't get much from Hen, which is a shame. I think she should have been the one to talk to Chim on the rooftop, especially because they knew Bobby the longest. Buck's connection to Maddie made his going feasible but the scene didn't have the kind of emotional impact a Hen and Chim scene could have had because the characters just don't have that "us against the world" history that Chim and Hen do (weirdly, the show even emphasized the period where it was just Hen and Chim in the flashback but then did nothing with that). I did like the moment between Chim and Maddie where Chim said that he was trying to figure out how to move forward, he just didn't know how yet. I like moments where a character could blow up and be in denial but they're quiet and introspective instead.

More to my point, though, there was no reason to show the flashback to the case in the past. The scene with Bobby and the mother could have stood on it's own, given that her grief was projected loud and clear through the scene at the baseball game. Additionally, we didn't need the scene where Gerrard gave the speech because the only point of that was to show Chim's anger. So that scene could have finished with Chim walking out. And cutting all of that would have given us more time to see Buck, Hen, and Eddie's reactions to Bobby's death. It seems like this is the only episode where they're going to give it any time. Next week is back to business as usual. So, overall, the episode was just really disappointing and left me cold, not emotional. Because while we saw the 118 sad, there was nothing about that sadness that felt specific to Bobby.

I'm disappointed that I wasn't right about Bobby coming back, yes. But if this episode had actually felt special and well thought out and had focused on the 118 as a family, I wouldn't have cared. I would have mourned Bobby with each member of the 118 and felt how his loss impacted each of them. Maybe I would have even considered watching the show beyond this episode. But instead, it ended up being rush because so much was crammed in there that didn't need to be. And Tim focused on all of the wrong things in his rush to get beyond the funeral and onto the next Big Fake 911 Disaster that doesn't have any stakes because so many corners are cut setting it up that all believability is lost. And you're left just watching the actors say their lines and wondering how much they laughed when they got the script. So. That's my take.

[lovetaroandtaemin]

Apologies in Acrylic Yarn

Lee Jihoon (Seventeen) x Reader

Word Count: 4,529 Genre: Angst, Fluff AUs: Non idol AU, established relationship Rating: SFW, however I still ask that MINORS DNI WITH THIS BLOG!

Summary: After you and Jihoon get into an argument, he decides to make sure that you know just how much he loves you.

Warnings: Arguments, Jihoon dealing with stress in unhealthy ways, Reader thinks that he's cheating but he isn't. If you think I missed a warning, please let me know!

Nets: @cosyhomenet, @k-vanity, @keopihaus, @newworldnet, @svthub, @thediamondlifenetwork

A/N: This fic is a slightly late birthday gift for the absolutely fucking amazing @chugging-antiseptic-dye. I hope you like it, honey, and I hope that your birthday was as special as you are to me. I also want to take a moment and acknowledge the lovely @nothoughtsjustfic because of all of her help with planning this fic and hyping me up while I was writing it! I appreciate you more than words can say, my love.

Taglist: @xomakara, @okiedokrie-main, @notyourjaem, @heechwe, @shadowkoo, @gyubakeries, @aeristudios

Fic is under the cut.

Very few people seemed to appreciate you the way that Jihoon did. There wasn’t a single day that went by where the man you loved either told you or showed you that he loved you just as much, if not more. He cherished every single thing you crocheted for him, whether you were satisfied with the end result yourself or not. He listened when you needed a shoulder to cry on, whether the problem you were having seemed big or small. He even sang you to sleep most nights, with a voice that sounded like the epitome of warmth and comfort.

Over the past few months, however, Jihoon had grown distant. You didn’t really understand why, though. At first, he blamed family obligations and extra stress at work, and you believed him, because they seemed like reasonable explanations. As time passed, however, and the obligations that should have been met with no issue were stretched seemingly endlessly, you started to doubt him.

A small part of you felt guilty for even entertaining the thought that Jihoon might be cheating. After all, he’d never given you a reason to doubt his loyalty before. As time went on, however, and the man that you loved seemed to stop treating you like he loved you too, you couldn’t help but wonder if he was really up late texting his sister like he claimed.

It was a matter of time before the combined loneliness that stemmed from the ever-growing distance between you and Jihoon and the anxiety that ate away at you as you wondered if he still loved you grew to be too much for you to handle. With no idea what else to do, you decided to just have a conversation with him and hopefully clear the air once and for all.

Of course, things rarely played out the way you hoped that they would.

The conversation with Jihoon was a disaster. In his defense, you probably shouldn’t have started the conversation immediately after the two of you got home from work, but you couldn’t help but think that the conversation would have ended poorly regardless.

It started when you called Jihoon to your shared bedroom shortly after arriving home and said, “Can we talk?”

“Yeah, of course. Is everything alright, my love?” he asked, hands and voice shaky.

“What’s going on with you?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve been distant lately. Is something wrong? Did I do something?”

“Nothing’s wrong, baby. Just been busy with work, and you know how Nayeon is,” he answered with a roll of his eyes at the mention of his sister.

“The way you’ve been acting lately makes it seem like there’s more to it than that. Just tell me what’s really going on, please?” you said, desperate for answers.

“That is what’s really going on. You know that Seungcheol has been up my ass lately about project deadlines, and you know that my family hasn’t left me alone since the fight with Nayeon a few weeks ago.”

“Then why are you so much more distant than usual? You’ve had work and family problems before, and you’ve never shut me out like this. Again, I have to ask, what’s going on?” Jihoon refused to answer until you sighed and mumbled, “Is there someone else?”

“No, there isn’t,” he spat, insulted that you would even ask. “Why the fuck would you think that?”

“I don’t know. Maybe because you’ve spent weeks pulling away and refuse to work with me to find a solution?”

“Look, it’s not my fault that everything decided to happen at once.”

With a defeated sigh, you said, “I know, but I’m fucking tired, Ji. I miss when you made me feel loved. Like I was the love of your life. Where did that go?”

Jihoon didn’t answer. Instead, he looked at you like he didn’t recognize you anymore, and that hurt more than even the possibility that he’d been unfaithful.

“I need to know what else is going on,” you said again.

“There’s nothing else going on. Honey, please. Just trust me.”

There was a beat of silence before you sighed and said, “Forget it, Jihoon. I’m going to Jeongyeon’s tonight.”

“Love, please let me-” he began. When he saw the look of venom in your eyes, however, he stopped and instead said, “Ok. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You stepped out of your apartment without saying another word to Jihoon after that, calling Jeongyeon and asking if you could spend the night at her apartment once you were outside. Once she reminded you that you didn’t need to ask, you left, trying desperately to let yourself have a little bit of hope that you could clear your mind and figure out how to move forward. As you thought about the situation more, however, the hope that had started to bloom in your chest wilted like a dying rose.

When you decided to approach Jihoon about the problems that the two of you had been having, you were certain that whatever was going on could be resolved together. As you drove through your city, however, screaming along with the songs about heartbreak and loneliness that blasted from your radio and thinking about everything that had gone wrong during the actual conversation, you found yourself feeling less certain about your relationship than you’d ever felt about anything before.

As Jihoon watched you leave your apartment, clearly fighting back tears, he was overcome with guilt. Sure, he’d been stressed lately, between mounting responsibilities at work and constantly arguing with his family, but he honestly hadn’t thought that he’d let it affect your relationship. The more he thought about it, though, the more he realized that he’d fucked up.

For the first time in the entirety of your relationship, Jihoon was terrified of losing you. For years, he’d been so sure that the two of you would be ok, no matter what this life decided to throw your way. However, when he remembered how utterly defeated you looked as you left the apartment, he wasn’t exactly as confident as he had been when he left for work that morning.

Regardless, Jihoon was determined to make it right and prove to you that he loved you more than anyone he’d ever loved before. The only problem was that he wasn’t quite sure how. For the first time in his life, he had no earthly idea how to fix the problem that he’d created. That didn’t mean that he was going to do nothing, though. While he considered bigger, more elaborate plans to show you just how much you meant to him, he decided to start with a note.

Jihoon must have written and rewritten that note a dozen times before he settled on something that he was satisfied with. He knew that it was too soon to try to talk to you, so he just left the note on your nightstand, figuring that you’d see it when you came home from Jeongyeon’s place. Then, he lay down in your shared bed and tried to sleep.

When you got to Jeongyeon’s apartment, you softly knocked on the door and waited for an answer. You didn’t have to wait long, though. Before you knew it, your best friend was opening the door and pulling you into a hug that threatened to crush your bones as she asked, “What happened?”

“We got in a fight,” you answered, fighting back tears.

“Do you wanna talk about it, or do you wanna play some games and do bad karaoke?”

You laughed softly at her offer and said, “All of the above?”

“Sounds good to me. Come on in,” she said as she let go.

You followed Jeongyeon through the door and into her cleaner-than-usual living room, where your friends Dahyun and Tzuyu sat on the couch talking about something you couldn’t quite hear. When they heard footsteps, however, they turned toward you with smiles on their faces, and Dahyun practically yelled your name as she jumped up and threw her arms around in a hug that threatened to knock you off your feet.

“Where have you been?” Dahyun asked, ecstatic to see you again.

“I’ve been busy with work and Jihoon problems,” you answered.

“What happened with Jihoon, by the way?” Tzuyu asked quietly, like she wasn’t entirely sure if the question she was asking was the right one.

“We got in an argument,” you said with a sigh of defeat. “I thought he was cheating, and he says that he wasn’t, keeps blaming work and family, but he’s been so distant lately. We argued because he just won’t talk to me. I got tired of it, so I called Jeongyeon and came here.”

When you were finished your explanation, Dahyun seemed like she’d deflated, Tzuyu looked like she wanted to comfort you but didn’t know how, and Jeongyeon looked like she was about to kill someone, probably Jihoon. The room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop until Jeongyeon took a deep breath and said, “You don’t deserve that.”

And that was when the floodgates finally opened.

You hadn’t cried at all during your argument with Jihoon. You were too angry about what he said to you in the moment to acknowledge the underlying sadness that his actions had caused. Now that the flames of anger had cooled, however, you were a wreck. It started small, with a few stray tears that left your eyes as you remembered the way that your relationship used to be. When you felt your best friend pull you into another hug, however, the few stray tears escalated into heart wrenching sobs that made your entire body shake.

Jeongyeon held you through your tears, rubbing your back while Dahyun and Tzuyu whispered soft reassurances that everything would be ok. It took a long time for you to stop crying and catch your breath, but having your friends by your side still made it easier than it would have been on your own.

Once you collected yourself, you sighed and said, “Thanks, guys. You’re the best.”

Tzuyu was the first to speak, replying, “We’re always here for you, (Y/N).”

A comfortable silence settled over the room while the four of you enjoyed each other’s presence and truly found peace in the knowledge that you would always have each other’s backs. The silence didn’t last, however, since almost as soon as it began, you started to cry again. This time, however, your tears were tears of joy instead of pain, the happiness that you found in your friends suddenly feeling overwhelming.

You weren’t sure how much longer you cried before you were able to catch your breath. Once you collected yourself, though, you grinned and said, “Now, how about some card games and karaoke?”

Dahyun let out a laugh that almost sounded like it came from a cartoon villain before she said, “I’m singing the first song!”

The four of you started your evening of fun with a game of Uno that you were sure would have ended your friendship if it hadn’t been for the situation that had brought you to Jeongyeon’s, with Dahyun deciding early on in the game to sabotage everyone else as often as humanly possible. In the end, however, it was Tzuyu that won, with her quiet demeanor and the fact that she seemed to struggle to understand the rules of the game lulling everyone into a false sense of security.

After the game ended, and the karaoke started, you and your friends didn’t have a care in the world. You took turns singing your favorite songs, with Jeongyeon even joining in for a turn or two, and in between, you talked about anything and everything. As you laughed at a dumb joke that Dahyun told, you felt noticeably lighter, and you couldn’t help but feel grateful that you had friends in your life that you knew would always be there for you.

Once you and your friends got to the point that you could barely keep your eyes open, you sighed and said, “Thanks, guys. I really needed this today.”

“It was no problem,” Jeongyeon replied with a grin of her own. “You know I love spending time with you.”

“I should probably go soon,” Tzuyu said apologetically. “I have to get to work early tomorrow.”

An exaggerated pout formed on your face before you said, “It was great to see you. We should do this again soon,” and pulled her into a hug.

Dahyun sighed and said, “I should leave soon, too. I want to go to sleep,” hugging you before she left.

When it was just you and Jeongyeon left in her apartment, she turned to you with a soft smile and said, “Guest room is ready. I got out the good pillows earlier.”

“Thanks. Seriously.”

“Don’t mention it. Good night.”

“Night!” you said as you made your way to Jeongyeon’s guest room, your friend heading to her own room for the night. Once you were settled in bed, you found that you didn’t dread going home to Jihoon in the morning like you thought you would. Instead, you felt refreshed and ready to take on whatever came your way when you saw your boyfriend again.

The next morning, Jihoon was devastated that he woke up without you for the first time since before the two of you moved in together a year ago. Still, he knew that it was his fault, so he couldn’t really be upset, could he?

Yes, he could.

Not wanting to think about how upset he was anymore, Jihoon decided to try and come up with solutions to the fact that you were feeling unloved. He struggled to think at first, but all it took was a quick look around your shared bedroom to come up with something that he knew would cheer you up: he would learn how to crochet and make you a tangible reminder of just how much he loved you.

Jihoon didn’t want to use any of your yarn, since he was worried about you noticing it missing and ruining the surprise. So, he took advantage of the fact that he had a rare day off from work and drove to the nearest craft store. As he drove, he remembered the first time that you’d tried to teach him how to crochet. He could barely hold the hook and yarn the right way, and the seemingly simple stitches themselves were an unanticipated challenge, but the time with you was worth the hand cramps and frustration, in his eyes.

After choosing yarn in colors that he knew you’d like and finding the appropriately sized hook, Jihoon went home and looked for a pattern. In hindsight, he probably should have selected a pattern before he bought the yarn, but it was too late to go back.

Once Jihoon found a pattern that looked easy enough to follow, he got to work. It was a struggle, to say the least, but every moment of frustration was worth it. After all, he was determined to show you a fraction of the love that you’d shown him over the years.

When Jihoon heard you come in the front door, he carefully put the yarn and hook back into the bag he’d brought it home in and tucked it under your shared bed, not wanting to ruin the surprise. Then, he sighed and made his way to the living room, stopping in his tracks when he finally laid eyes on you.

Your smile fell when you finally saw Jihoon standing in your living room, but you reluctantly pulled him into a hug and said, “I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry. I never meant to make you feel like I don’t love you. You have to know that,” he responded, eyes welling with tears as he spoke.

“I know,” you said with a defeated sigh. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. More than you’ll ever know.”

The two of you stayed where you were in awkward silence for what felt like an eternity, taking in each other’s presence as you each made silent promises to the other to keep trying. You were the first to break the silence when you asked, “Don’t you have to get ready for work soon?”

Jihoon shook his head and said, “I asked for a day off a few weeks ago. I wanted to surprise you.”

Your eyes filled with tears as you asked, “Really?”

“Really. What do you wanna do today, love?”

“Can we just stay in and cuddle today? I’ve missed you.”

“That sounds perfect, my love,” Jihoon replied as he let go of you and made his way to your shared bedroom. You followed him, and once you both reached your room, he grabbed your hand and pulled you toward your nightstand, earning a soft laugh from you.

Once you were in front of the nightstand, you noticed a piece of paper sitting on top of the book that you’d been reading. When you saw it, you turned to Jihoon and asked, “Did you leave this here?”

He nodded and said, “It’s everything that I wanted to say last night and couldn’t.”

With a hint of a smile on your face, you turned back toward your nightstand and picked up the tear-stained piece of paper. In Jihoon’s neat handwriting, the note said:

“I’m so sorry I ever made you feel unloved, my darling. Truthfully, I’ve pulled away because the combined stress of extra responsibilities at work and the constant fighting with my family has been overwhelming, and I was concerned that I’d be a burden if I clung to you like I really wanted to when life got to be too much. But now that you’ve left, and I find myself worrying that you won’t want to come back, I don’t know what to do with myself. You’re the only person that I’ve ever loved the way that I love you, and there are no words for the way that you make me feel. I need you to know that regardless of when or even if you choose to come home, my heart will always be yours.

All my love, Jihoon”

Your lover was filled with anxiety as he watched you read the note that he’d written the night before. However, when you carefully placed the note back on your nightstand and threw your arms around him, almost knocking him over in the process, he breathed a sigh of relief.

Your bedroom was silent for what felt like an eternity until you let out a shaky breath and said, “I love you. You know that you’re not a burden, right?”

Jihoon let out a shaky breath of his own, fighting back tears as he said, “I love you too. I was just so worried about being too much.”

“You could never be too much, baby. Next time, just tell me that you’re feeling stressed, ok? I’ll understand, I promise.”

“Ok. I’m sorry I pulled away.”

You didn’t respond verbally, but the way you hugged Jihoon, like he’d disappear if you let go for even a second, was enough of an indicator that you’d forgiven him. He didn’t speak either, too relieved that you were still there to think straight.

You and Jihoon stayed still for what felt like an eternity before he let go of you just enough to look you in the eyes and asked, “How about we move to the bed? I think it’ll be more comfortable.”

You chuckled at his question and replied, “So do I,” as you pulled him into bed with you.

You and Jihoon spent the entire day cuddled up in bed, talking about whatever came to mind as you took advantage of the surprise time to just enjoy each other’s company. As you relaxed in your boyfriend’s arms, you felt the tiniest bit better about your argument the night before, and the feeling of hope that you’d desperately needed started to settle inside of you once again.

When the day finally turned to night, Jihoon made sure that you fell asleep first. Once he was certain that you were asleep, he got out of bed, taking care not to wake you in the process. Then, he dug the bag out from under the bed and settled in your living room, struggling through the bag that he was attempting to make for you to keep your crochet hooks in. After he made what he felt was sufficient progress for the night, he got back into bed with you, grateful that you hadn’t woken up while he was out of bed.

The next day, Jihoon had to go back to work. A small part of you was anxious that the peace that you’d found in each other the day before wouldn’t last if you were completely honest. But when he smiled at you as he walked out the door, you found yourself feeling much more confident.

After your argument, Jihoon didn’t let a single day go by without telling you, and showing you, that he loved you. When you were feeling down, he was there with cuddles and your favorite movies ready to watch. When the two of you had free time to spare, you played board games and chatted about your day. You let yourself hope that the two of you could be ok.

What meant the most to you, though, was the fact that Jihoon actually let you in when the stress of the world around him got to be too much. On the days that he was overwhelmed by the amount of responsibility he had at work; he talked to you instead of pushing you away. On the days that he was too angry to speak because of yet another argument with his mother and sister, he wrote you notes to tell you how he was feeling and make sure that you understood that he wasn’t upset with you. Progress was slow at first, of course, but as time went on, you finally felt like you had the man that you loved back.

For the next several weeks, Jihoon spent basically every free moment that he wasn’t with you adding on to your gift. The pattern was simple once he got the hang of it, so he didn’t struggle with making it. The problem with that was that his time to work was limited to an hour or two after you went to bed, since both of you tended to go to bed late. Still, he used the limited time that he had well, and before he knew it, the bag was ready.

Still, Jihoon finished the bag relatively quickly, all things considered. Coincidentally, he finished the last few steps of the project the night before your birthday. He honestly couldn’t believe his luck, considering he’d been so distracted he hadn’t had time to go out and buy something like he typically did. A small part of him felt guilty for that, but when he looked at the finished bag, he felt a sense of pride at the fact that he made something that he knew you would use, which eased the guilt.

When Jihoon was finished admiring his handiwork, he carefully stowed it away in its hiding place and got back into bed with you. After he found a comfortable position, he held you close and took a deep breath, finally letting himself relax.

When you woke up on your birthday, you were disappointed to find that Jihoon wasn’t still in bed with you. You wondered if he’d gone to work early, but you didn’t have long to wonder, since you heard his voice coming from the kitchen almost immediately.

You got out of bed and walked out to the kitchen, and what you saw almost made you burst into tears. There was Jihoon, cooking pancakes and singing along with the music that was playing from his phone, looking lighter than a feather as he danced at the stove. With a soft smile on your face and butterflies in your stomach, you said, “Hi, handsome.”

“Happy birthday, beautiful,” he said, smiling when he heard your voice. “Pancakes are almost ready.”

You stepped closer to where he stood and kissed his cheek before you said, “Thank you, baby.”

“Go sit down at the table, and I’ll bring everything over when it’s ready.”

“Ok. I love you.”

“I love you too, my darling.”

You sat down at your kitchen table, singing along with Jihoon’s playlist with him while he finished cooking the pancakes and fixed two plates. Once the plates were ready, he brought them to the table and sat down with you. With a smile on your face, you said, “Thank you.”

“It’s the least I could do for my darling on their birthday.” You smiled at his words, and he added, “Wait here.”

“Why? What are you-” you started to ask, but before you could get the words out, he’d disappeared into your room.

You waited patiently for Jihoon to come back, wondering what the hell he was doing. You figured he was probably looking for something, though, considering the muffled swearing and the sounds of things falling that you could hear from your place in the kitchen.

When Jihoon came back, he was clearly out of breath, but he was also visibly excited, holding something behind his back and smiling like he knew something that you didn’t. You opened your mouth to speak, but before you could, he said, “I hope that you like it,” and handed you your gift.

You looked down at the familiar-feeling item in your hands and realized that it was a crocheted pouch, brightly colored and carefully made. You carefully examined it, running your hands over the stitches and admiring the colors. Then, with tears in your eyes and a smile on your face, you hesitantly asked, “Did you make this?”

He nodded and said, “I thought that it might be helpful to have one place to store all of your hooks since you always seem so frustrated when you lose one.”

“Thank you. I love you,” you responded as you stood from your chair and pulled him into a bone-crushing hug.

“I love you too, my darling,” he said, his voice breaking as he tried to fight back the tears of joy that threatened to spill over. “I just wanted to show you that.”

There was a brief silence before you asked, “Can we stay in today and cuddle?”

“Of course, my love.”

“Thank you.”

With that, you let go of Jihoon and placed your gift on the table, and the two of you worked together to clean your shared kitchen, taking your time since both of you were off from work for the day. When you were done, you practically dragged him to your bedroom and plopped into bed. Then, he carefully got into bed next to you and pulled you close to him. Once you were both settled, he sighed and asked, “Are we ok?”

You kissed his nose and answered, “Yeah, we’re ok.”

“Thank you. Happy birthday, my darling. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Ji.”

Thank you for reading, everyone! If you enjoyed this fic, please like and reblog! If you wanna check out my other works, my masterlist is here. If you'd like to see some of the things I have planned to post in the future, my upcoming works list is here. If none of that interests you, or there's something specific that you'd like to see, feel free to send a request via asks or dms! If you want to be tagged in future posts, my taglist form can be found here!

Thank you again for reading and interacting with this fic, and happy belated birthday, A!

[shadowkoo]

Troublemaker

→ Summary: Jooyeon needs help finishing his song and the only way to do that is by unraveling you. You're the missing piece; the only voice he wants to layer into his track, the only one he craves to hear making those breathy little moans that already have him on edge. But as the recording session goes on, it’s no longer enough to just listen to you like that, he needs to be the reason you sound that way.

↠ jooyeon x f.reader | 3.1k words | 18+ ↠ genre: idol!au, smut

→ Warnings: y’all getting freaky in the studio (as deserved), mutual pining, begging, fingering, unprotected sex, orgasm control, multiple orgasms, dry humping/grinding, breast play, PRAISE PRAISE PRAISEEEEE (did i mention praise? no? well there’s a good amount of praise lol), dirty talk, mild exhibitionism, pet names (you’re his fave troublemaker ofc duh)

→ Networks: @ksmutsociety @k-vanity @keopihaus @lapydiaries @cosyhomenet

→ Author Note: this is a belated birthday gift to myself bc sometimes the fics you want to read you have to write lol. also a big shoutout to aeris @aeristudios for creating a gif for me from a very specific vid that i needed to make this banner <3 i had a vision and it came to lifeeee | divider credit

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“Thanks for agreeing to this,” Jooyeon says with a nervous grin tugging at his lips. “I really appreciate it. I know I asked for the favor super last minute.”

He and his band, Xdinary Heroes, have been grinding nonstop on their upcoming full-length album. It’s a personal project packed with some killer new singles, plus deeply personal solo tracks written, performed, and produced by each member. All in all, it’s shaping up to be their most anticipated album yet.

Jooyeon’s been pouring himself into his solo track for days now, getting lost in the lyrics and layering harmonies late into the night. It’s different from anything he’s done before. It’s slower, sultrier, a little more exposed, maybe even a little dangerous.

It’s so close to being complete, but something is missing. And it’s been driving him crazy trying to figure it out. That is, until last night, when it struck him like a lightning bolt; what Jooyeon wants to add is the right fit, it’s just not the right voice.

He doesn’t need just any voice, though. He needs yours.

The one that has haunted his thoughts more than he’d ever admit. The one belonging to the woman who always brushes off his flirting with a smirk and an eye roll. Like he’s just playing a teasing game. Like he couldn’t be serious about you.

But he is.

“It’s no problem,” you reply with a gentle smile as he holds the studio door open for you. “I’m always happy to help.”

Jooyeon watches you settle onto the couch, then crosses the room to grab the lyric sheet from the soundboard. He sits beside you, just close enough for his knee to graze yours.

Together, you start to go over the song. You read through the verses, pausing to smooth awkward phrasing or tweak the flow, marking spots for vocal layering, planning out subtle additions.

He talks through the nuances of harmonies and breathwork, and you decide exactly where your voice should slide in without overpowering his. It’s more like a dance, your parts should wrap around his, complementing him. Keeping it intimate, intricate.

Once you're both satisfied with the new arrangement, Jooyeon runs through it, testing how it feels when he sings.

"I like it," he says, glancing up at you with a nervous smile. "What do you think?"

You lean back, giving him a slow once-over before smirking. "I think you'd better warm up that pretty voice of yours, I’m gonna need to hear it for real before I let you know my honest thoughts."

He chuckles before ducking into the recording booth and slipping on the headphones. You move to the soundboard, adjusting levels and offering feedback, telling him which takes hit hardest, when to push his tone, when to let it fall softer.

You do your best to stay composed, acting like his voice isn’t crawling all over your skin, like the shift between his sharp high notes and his deeper rasp isn’t doing something to your insides. But every time he looks at you through the glass with his lips parted, brows drawn in focus, it gets harder to pretend you're unaffected.

Jooyeon’s always been a triple threat; insanely talented, unfairly gorgeous, and effortlessly magnetic in the most maddening way. You had the biggest crush on him back in your trainee days, though you’d never dared to act on it. The kind of crush that made it hard to breathe whenever he was around. The kind that never really faded, just got buried under layers of sarcasm, eye rolls, and distance.

But now, hearing him sing this kind of song, watching the way he pours himself into every note, you’re not so sure you can keep pretending those old feelings are still locked away.

"I've always hated how fast you’re able to wrap up your parts," you tease through the studio mic, doing your best to sound casual.

Jooyeon laughs, tugging off his headphones and letting them dangle from the edge of the music stand before stepping back into the room.

"You're so annoyingly perfect," you add with a dramatic roll of your eyes, trying to deflect the growing heat low in your stomach.

"What's wrong with that?" he grins, cocking his head and raising his eyebrows in that boyish, heart-melting way he always does, like he knows exactly the kind of effect he has on you.

"Just—whatever," you grumble, losing your train of thought completely as you push out of your chair, grabbing your water bottle on the way to the booth.

The studio is always too warm, so you shrug out of your sweater and toss it over the back of a chair, left in just your tank top and flared leggings. You slip on the headphones, adjusting them over your ears as the track cues up. Jooyeon’s voice echoes in the background as you add the breathy textures and moan-like embellishments the song calls for.

When the section wraps, you glance through the glass, locking eyes with him.

"How was that?" you ask, a little breathless yourself.

Jooyeon doesn’t answer right away. He’s staring at you, or through you, and his face is completely unreadable. It’s as if he’s caught somewhere between thought and instinct, and you suddenly feel far too exposed under his hard gaze.

"Jooyeon?" you inquire, heart beating faster.

The sound of his name seems to snap him out of it. He clears his throat roughly, fumbling to press the talk button. "Uh, yeah. Let’s, um—let’s run that again, if you don’t mind."

You blink, surprised. "Not at all," you say, adjusting your mic slightly. "Anything you want me to tweak for this next take?"

He hesitates, and when he does, his voice is lower as if almost strained. "Just...make it a little more believable, more…sexual.”

A slow blush creeps up your cheeks as you nod. You close your eyes, letting the music flow through you, trying to feel it, be it. But it still feels off. Too fake, too forced.

You crack one eye open and give Jooyeon a small, frustrated shake of your head. He pauses the track immediately.

"It still doesn’t feel genuine, does it?" you sigh, raking a hand through your hair.

Jooyeon leans forward, "Are you open to an idea?"

Without waiting for an answer, he sets the track on a loop, steps away from the soundboard, and steps into the booth with you. The space begins to feel even smaller with him in it.

He grabs the chair off to the side of where you’re standing, dragging it back against the wall. Then he lowers the mic stand to match the new setup. Sitting down, he pats his thighs with a steady hand.

"Come sit."

You blink, your heartbeat picking up once again. "What?" you ask, half-breathless. "Why?"

"Just trust me. Come sit," he says, voice low but insistent, his eyes locked on yours.

Against better judgment, you do as he says. Carefully, you settle onto his lap, feeling the solid heat of him beneath you. His hands are patient but firm as he adjusts your headphones, slipping one ear off so you can hear him while the track hums softly into the other.

Jooyeon’s voice brushes your exposed ear, low and coaxing. "Now just relax. Feel the music. Feel me." His hands trail slowly down your arms as you start to sing the first section of harmonies.

Heat floods to your core almost instantly, and you can’t help the way your thighs instinctively press tightly together. He notices and lets out a pleased chuckle before his lips brush against the sensitive skin of your neck.

A soft, involuntary moan slips from your mouth, your head tipping back against his shoulder.

"That’s it," Jooyeon murmurs, his voice low against your ear, careful not to let the mic catch it. "That’s what I want to hear."

His hands gliding over your upper thighs before sliding up, fingers hooking lightly at the waistband of your leggings. He lingers there, teasing, testing your boundaries.

"God, you’re trouble," he breathes, his voice thick with want. "Do you trust me?"

You nod without hesitation, your whole body buzzing with anticipation.

"Then open your legs for me," he says.

The second you obey, he slips his hand beneath your lower layers of fabric, fingers skating lower and lower until he finds the soft heat of you, brushing against your clit with a featherlight touch that makes your breath hitch.

You bite your lip hard, struggling to stay composed as the track plays on, your own voice layered under Jooyeon's. You sound breathy, aching, just the way he envisioned.

His touch is light at first, just enough to drive you mad, tracing slow circles over your sensitive bundle of nerves. Your hips twitch without meaning to, seeking more pressure, more friction, but he holds you still with a firm arm wrapped around your waist.

"Easy," he murmurs, dragging his mouth along your jawline. "We’re not in a rush.”

You whimper softly, the sound melting right into the music, blending so naturally that if anyone else heard the track later, they might think it was just another embellishment, another perfectly captured emotion.

Jooyeon's free hand slides up, slipping under your tank top to palm your breast through your bra, thumb brushing over the hardening peak. Every touch, every movement of his is purposely slow, calculated to wring every ounce of sensation from you.

"You’re doing so good," he whispers.

Your hands find his thighs, gripping tight as his fingers slip lower, teasing at your entrance before gliding back up to circle your clit again, just a little firmer this time. Pleasure coils hot and sharp inside you, tightening with every lazy pass of his fingers.

"Joo, please," you gasp, not even sure what you're begging for. More of something, anything. Everything.

Jooyeon groans low in your ear, the sound vibrating through you as his fingers slip lower once again, this time dipping two into your slick heat.

“O-Oh god,” you mewl loudly, not caring what gets picked up by the mic anymore. He stiffens below you, his hard length pressing against your backside.

"My favorite little troublemaker makes the prettiest sounds for me," he murmurs against your skin, voice dark and possessive.

His fingers curl deeper inside you, finding that devastatingly perfect spot that has you gasping sharply, your whole body jolting against him. “You feel so good, trouble, you’re so wet for me.”

Jooyeon speeds up just enough to tip you closer to the edge, and when your head lolls back against his shoulder again, he captures your mouth in a slow, devastating kiss.

It’s messy, and when you finally break the kiss to gasp for air, your body shudders against his as the first waves of release start to crash over you.

"That's it," he rasps, working you through it, keeping his movements steady. "Sing for me."

And you do. A high, broken moan spills from your lips, right on cue, weaving seamlessly into the track playing in your ear as pleasure tears through you, leaving you shuddering helplessly in his lap.

For a moment, all you can hear is the thundering rush of your heartbeat and the faint echo of the music. But then reality crashes back in.

Jooyeon’s hand is still tucked inside your pants, his breath still hot against your ear, his voice still murmuring sweet, dizzying things meant only for you.

Panic surges inside your body, choking you. You tense, jolting upright, desperate to put space between you. Scrambling off his lap, you make a move toward the door, the walls of the studio feeling like they’re closing in.

"Y/N, wait—" Jooyeon’s voice is sharp with concern. He reaches out, catching your hand before you can leave, his fingers wrapping around yours, grounding you. "Please. Don’t go."

There’s a hint of fear in his voice now, a crack in his usual easy confidence. It stops you cold; you’re torn between the overwhelming urge to flee and the equally powerful pull to turn back to him.

"I'm sorry," Jooyeon says, voice low and rushed. "I'm sorry if I took that too far. I acted impulsively and overstepped. I should've thought about your boundaries instead of getting caught up in my own feelings."

He drags a hand through his hair, frustration bleeding through every word. "I put myself first, and I’m sorry. I know you probably still see me as just a friend. I... I’ve liked you for years, and I got wrapped up in the moment. If you want, I'll scrap the whole recording. We can pretend it never happened."

"Wait, what?" you blink up at him, stunned.

"I’ll throw the whole song away," he says quickly, almost tripping over his words. "Start over. I don’t care."

"No. No, I don’t want that," you cut him off, heart pounding. "But...what did you say before?"

He hesitates, eyes darting nervously across your face.

"I, uh..." He chuckles awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. "I said I’ve liked you. Probably since the day I met you. That’s why I was so excited when you agreed to help me with this. I just…" He stops himself, tilting his head slightly, trying to read you, trying to see if he’s ruined everything, if you’re about to walk out for good.

But before he can figure it out, you close the distance between you and crash your mouth against his, silencing every doubt burning in his mind.

Your hands tangle into his long hair, fingers threading through the blonde strands, tugging just enough to draw a low, needy growl from his chest. His arms wrap around you tightly, hauling you against him before spinning you and pressing you back against the padded wall.

You gasp into his mouth, and he devours it as he lifts you effortlessly. Your legs wrap around his waist, anchoring yourself to him as you grind down instinctively, a moan slipping free when you feel the heat of him, hard and ready, pressed against you through his jeans.

Jooyeon breaks the kiss just long enough to breathe, his forehead resting against yours.

"Are you sure you want this?" he asks, his voice rough, his eyes searching yours like his entire world depends on your answer.

You smile, tracing your fingers down the line of his jaw. "There’s nothing I want more than you," you whisper, tugging him back in for another kiss.

He sets you down gently, his hands lingering on your body as he peels off your tank top. Your pants follow next, pooling at your ankles, leaving you bare and burning under his gaze.

His clothes are stripped away just as quickly, until there's nothing left between you but body heat.

Without another word, you're back in his arms, pinned between his body and the wall. He slides a hand down, lining himself up, his tip slowly circling your entrance. His teasing has you whimpering against his lips.

"Mmmm, still so wet for me, trouble," he growls against your skin, the deep rumble of his voice making your thighs tremble around his waist. "I think I could fully sink into you in one move. What do you think?"

His mouth trails hot kisses along your jaw, down the sensitive column of your throat. "Can you take all of me at once?" he murmurs, his voice dark and possessive, like he already knows the answer.

You tilt your head back, offering him more of your neck, your chest heaving as you clutch at his bare back, desperate for him. "Yes," you gasp breathlessly, wrecked already from just the anticipation. "I want you inside me, Jooyeon. Please."

That single word shatters the last thread of his restraint.

With one smooth, devastating thrust, he buries himself fully inside you. He fills you so perfectly that you cry out, your body arching against him. The stretch is intense, making your walls flutter helplessly around him.

"J-Jooyeon," you moan, your voice breaking, raw with pleasure.

He holds you there for a moment, just letting you feel every thick inch of him, nestled so deep it feels like he’s part of you. His forehead presses against yours, his breathing just as ragged while he composes himself.

"Fuck," he groans, grinding his hips in a slow, punishing circle once he’s got a hold of himself. "You feel like heaven...squeezing me so tight already. So perfect for me." His hands grip your thighs tightly enough to leave marks.

You whimper, rolling your hips to meet his, and he curses again. His control slips even further as he pulls out almost entirely, only to slam back into you, setting a rhythm that’s brutal and achingly perfect.

Each thrust rocks you harder against the wall, pleasure clawing up your spine until your nails are digging into his back, desperate for more. So much more.

"You’re my little troublemaker," he growls against your ear, voice rough, possessive, as he drives into you over and over, each snap of his hips pushing you closer to the edge. "Say it."

"I’m yours," you choke out, stars bursting behind your eyelids.

"Again," he demands, thrusting deeper, making you sob out the words.

"I’m yours, Jooyeon. Only yours."

He captures your mouth again, swallowing your cries hungry kiss, claiming every sound you make as he pounds into you mercilessly, bringing you closer and closer to falling apart.

Your walls clench helplessly around him as you shatter. You sob his name into his mouth, your body spasming in his arms as he fucks you through your orgasm, never never letting up.

The rush of heat and sensation leaves you dizzy, your vision white-edged and blurred.

Feeling you fall apart around him drives him over the edge, too.

"I’m gonna–" he gasps, his voice a whisper against your lips. He buries himself deep with one final, punishing thrust, his whole body tensing as he comes inside you. His forehead drops to your shoulder, his heart pounding against your chest while he catches his breath.

For a long moment, you just cling to each other, trembling, your bodies still fused together, the air thick with the scent of sex and the sound of your heavy breaths.

Slowly, Jooyeon lifts his head, brushing your sweaty hair back from your face with a tenderness that makes your chest ache.

"You okay?" he asks gently, his voice low.

You nod, still too wrecked to form words, and he smiles breathtakingly before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"Good," he murmurs, a teasing glint in his eye. "Because I can be ready for round two in a few minutes."

You throw your head back and laugh, loving how effortlessly playful he can be in any situation. “Maybe we should focus on editing that recording first. Then maybe you can fuck me into the couch out there. After you lock the studio door, of course.”

It’s his turn to laugh, his chuckle rumbles through the room while his arms instinctively tighten around your body. You nuzzle closer into him, skin still tingling, breathing in his scent.

And you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

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[nabi-unveiled]

I've struggled with what to write about Heesu in Class 2.

Opinions have been polarized, and I know that whatever I write isn't going to resonate with at least half of the people that I follow and respect. It helped that I wasn't going into this blind. I knew it wasn't a typical BL. I had read a LOT of commentary in the past couple of weeks.

Many people who wanted the source material didn't get what they wanted/needed. I can understand that. While I typically like it when adaptations twist and build on source material, I have had the experience where I was incredibly disappointed in an adaptation. I Hear the Sunspot -> I'm talking to you. When you hold something near and dear to your heart, it hurts when you don't recognize it anymore. Especially if the adaptation removed the things that you valued and loved.

But I hadn't read the source material on this one so that wasn't a factor for me. I do plan to read it now that I've watched the show. I will probably keep the two as completely different entities in my brain. Based on people's reactions, that feels like the best move forward.

Many people who DIDN'T read the source material also didn't get what they wanted/needed. They might view it as homophobic or disrespectful of serious issues. Or it may never have connected with them emotionally. But my world is VERY homophobic so this felt very real to me. It connected emotionally and it hit HARD...at least in certain scenes.

My feelings are too raw to really discuss the show analytically. I'll talk pacing, visuals, astronomy metaphors and all that once I finish up my astronomy project for work. I'll try to approach it objectively when I write up the analysis of individual episodes. There is a lot to dive into on that score - some positive, some negative, some neutral.

However, right now, in this moment? I can't even think about how I would "rate" this show. I'm too busy having big feels after the finale. Because while it may not have been a "BL" by many people's standards, it was definitely queer. And that counts for something. I'm no high schooler - I turn forty in a little over a week - but it scraped my open wounds and made them bleed. Honestly, episode 11 of Your Sky did that to me too. I just kept my posts private on that one, because this feels like serving myself up for judgment. I might regret this post.

I tried during my two hour walk last night to figure out what I could say. Every take I tried got personal fast. I can't separate it. And in the end, I've decided to not even try.

So is this post meta analysis? No.

Is this post a critique or analytical evaluation of the show? No.

Is this an endorsement of the show? No.

Heck. Half of this post probably isn't about the show at all.

It feels weird to say since many people around me call me a robot or unfeeling, but this post is pure emotion for me. It's probably oversharing. Just like whether a show is popular or not, I don't have a gauge for that. I'm the person that will spend two weeks talking to almost no one outside of my children/husband, but then spend three hours discussing all things garlic with some random person I never met previously. That's Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo's fault. I don't really have an in between mode. I'm silent, or I don't shut up.

Warning: This got long. No surprise there. Also, in case it is a trigger for you, religion and sexuality are intertwined throughout this post and it touches on themes of coming out.

Anonymous Inbox Warning: If you read this post and come into my inbox to worry about my "mental health" or "recommend therapy" or anything similar, I'm just going to delete it. Therapy is great. I'm aware. I highly recommend and advocate for it. That is not the point here.

But after watching Heesu, here are the things stuck in my brain.

I envied Heesu and Seungwon.

Was it hard for them? Yes. Were they struggling due to things that are unfair and that I wish weren't true of society? Yes. Will they continue to struggle? Unfortunately, yes. But they're figuring themselves out and are coming to terms with their identity in high school. There's something to be said for that.

Thanks to neurodivergence and my conservative, religious upbringing, I didn't figure myself out until I was already married and had my first child. Both in terms of sexuality and my personal religious beliefs, I was in my mid to late 20s before I figured things out.

Because for many, many years I just thought I was evil and morally bankrupt. After all, I really enjoyed Cruel Intentions and I really really thought it would be a whole lot of fun to make out with Watts in the garage (Some Kind of Wonderful). @dribs-and-drabbles I loved that they were one of your ships. But I could never ship it. Keith didn't deserve her. She was mine.

But this was a problem, because I was taught that sex was the root of all evil. Even heterosexual sex. And to have such perverse desires meant something was morally and drastically wrong with you. Stupid purity culture swamp.

I decided that if I tried hard enough and studied enough, that I'd figure out how to fix my broken brain. After all, there were ways to overcome my broken hearing. There were ways to overcome my broken empathy meter. There were ways to overcome my attention issues and the chaos of my brain. Surely, there was a fix for that part of me that really liked thinking about the Olsen twins and Taylor Hanson too.

I'm fine with being called "stubborn", "argumentative", "weird", "scary" and the dozens of other not quite positive adjectives I hear about myself. I mean this with full sincerity -> it doesn't bother me. I get called plenty of positive things too. And one man's "stubborn", is another person's "independent". But I didn't want to be evil. So I tried. I really did.

It took me a long time to accept that I wasn't actually broken or morally bankrupt. It took me a long time to figure out the problem was as @babyangelsky put it that desire was considered a swamp to begin with. I'm still hoping my person accepts that one day too.

So yes, I'm incredibly happy for Heesu and Seungwon that they figured all of that out in high school. I hope this show, BLs in general and changes in society as a whole help teenagers get there much faster than me. I'm sure a smartphone or internet resources like we have today would've helped.

I felt relieved when Heesu figured out that there was someone in his world who wouldn't judge him.

Even as I deconstructed religiously and embraced my sexuality, I never worried about my (younger) brother's reaction. I always knew he'd be in my corner. He was a musical theater major. He's kissed men as part of his shows (our family doesn't know that), and he had already deconstructed (they also don't know that). He figured things out much faster than me. He listens to me talk about BLs and all of my fun dilemmas with them. We have never directly talked about my (or his) sexuality though. Sex is not something easily discussed in our family. Plus, we're still siblings. I really don't want to think of him in that way.

But I know he has my back. And that has meant everything over the years.

However, my brother lives 5 hours away. I get to talk to him only a couple of times a month (if that). He's not the people that surround me on the daily. And the people that surround me? They WILL judge. Strike that. They DO judge - everyone and everything. Openly and loudly. I live in a very close knit, very conservative, very religious family and community. It wasn't my intention to stay, but words left unsaid mean I married someone who talks a lot about traveling and seeing the world but never intended to see it.

And nine days out of ten, that's okay. I love our home that he built with his own hands, our hikes through the woods, our gaming sessions, and our "fun" times too 😉. But that tenth day when I take a break from work, stop doing the laundry or packing the kids' lunchboxes and really think about everything? It's rough.

For a very long time, I kept all of my thoughts on religion and sexuality completely secret while being swallowed alive by my black hole. I tried to convince myself that it didn't matter. But when I found that one person in my daily circle who I realized would accept me? It was a miracle. It changed everything. I eventually found a few. I'm forever grateful for those former coworkers.

It's insane how much lighter it feels when you remove the load by "just one person", and how much strength you gain when you realize that you are not really alone in your thinking. In funny things (to me), they weren't surprised. "I thought that was a given. It's pretty obvious."

Over the years, the Tumblr community has been another light for me. Even when I was lurking. Just knowing that there were people out there who'd have no problem with my kinky thoughts went a very long way. So that scene for Heesu, when he realized Seungwon wouldn't judge him - I felt it in my bones.

The tennis court scene in the finale with Chan Young/Heesu pains me...for both of them.

And I'm still standing on it.

I can't judge this scene objectively within the narrative. It got too personal so most of what I say about this scene will have very little to do with Heesu/Chan Young's actual relationship. Again, this isn't meta. This is emotion.

I had a strong negative reaction to Chan Young in episode 1. This was followed by a humorous bit of time with @lurkingshan when my brother pointed out that he was a lot like my husband all the way down to him being a competitive tennis player in high school. I didn't expect just HOW far that analogy might go though.

Because just like Heesu, I started by coming clean with my Chan Young. Difference being that my Chan Young is my friend, lover, and other half.

So this line...

I've heard it. I took YEARS to come completely clean precisely because I knew it was going to hurt him so very deeply. I tried to soften the blow. I tried to lead up to it in small steps. But it didn't help.

Side note: @my-rose-tinted-glasses By our standards for Min Jun from Business as Usual, this might make me the bad guy. It's probably why I am trying so hard to forgive him. I haven't got there with him yet. Ghosting feels different to me. Min Jun essentially left the court.

This line...

I've heard it too. It was wrapped in language about moral corruption and rebelling against religious rules just because I disagreed with them. But the gist was the same. Choosing myself is being selfish. I've just decided I'm okay with that. That I'm worth being selfish about. If I have to be my own biggest fan, so be it.

But this one...

It's the reason that I can't analyze this scene objectively (yet). Because it's true. I destroyed my husband's whole world and vision of our life together by my confession. In gaming terms, it was a headshot. In the show, Chan Young now has to reframe everything that he thought was a part of their relationship and decide where to go from here. It's not an easy task.

When I liveblogged Let Free the Curse, I said I wasn't going to touch Juyeong's cross necklace and how he removed it to be with Dohoe. That I couldn't deal with it. This is why. As @respectthepetty pointed out in their Let Free the Curse commentary, that cross is heavy for my Juyeong and it's not a fun place for me. I've put the person I love in a place where they have to choose every single day whether to put on that necklace that they VALUE and BELIEVE in or choose to embrace me, the person they love, who is also the sinner on the road to hell. It's tearing them apart and robbing them of their joy. And while I'm no longer being sucked into my personal black hole, I now get a courtside seat to all of their pain. I created a rift in their universe.

So while many people are understandably upset that Heesu is apologizing in this scene.

I didn't see it as apologizing for being queer.

I saw it as apologizing for hurting the person they love and care about. For being a source of pain. And yes, there IS a difference.

Because yes, I struggled with my identity for years. But I'm not sorry that I now understand myself, and I'm not going to trap myself in a glass room. I will not apologize for being myself. However, on that 10th day, when everything gets a bit too real for us both, I get to hear the tears at night from my person. And I am really sorry that I'm the cause of them. I really wish I wasn't.

So I'll forgive him if he hits a tennis ball at me from time to time. I'll dodge most of them. The ones that connect WILL hurt. But he's hurting too, and it's going to take time for him to put that racquet down.

We've been on this court for a very long time as he decides what to do about that cross necklace. But it took me a long time to put us on the court in the first place.

I'm really hoping we get here one day.

For both of our sakes. I really hope we do. But we may not.

For now, I'm just glad that we're both refusing to leave the court on that tenth day. Because the other nine days are still a blast.

I'll try to watch the scene with the actual narrative in mind next time.

It broke my heart when Seungwon's mom asked him what she should do.

It WRECKED me like no other scene if I'm being honest. Even worse than the tennis court scene.

Why? Because I don't want to hurt my kids. I don't want to end up on my bad mothers list. I'm trying to figure it all out, but it's tricky. I had a similar conversation to this one with my two older children just a few weeks ago. Unlike the tennis court, this is relatively new territory for me. They're just now getting old enough to understand. For context, I'm not really "out" by most people's standards within the larger community. I'd like my Chan Young to stop hitting balls at me before I move forward in that regard. I'd really like to have him by my side if I take on our community and the rest of our families. So for now I wait as he ponders what he's supposed to do.

But I haven't kept my thoughts on things or my reality from my kids in the meantime. They know my beliefs and where I stand. They are even aware that I blog and watch BL. They laughed at me quite a bit during the emoji tag game as I tried to figure out the coffin in @dramalove247 's set. They thought it meant vampire by the way.

Six days out of seven, it doesn't really impact them much at all. But on that seventh day, they're getting very mixed messages from the adults in their life. The one that says all the things we grew up with. And the one (me) that constantly says choose kindness, choose people, choose yourself, screw purity, screw normal, screw the rules.

The mixed messages will impact them. It does confuse them. And as much as I'd like to, I can't shelter them from that without lying about who I am and what I believe. But I also can't protect them from all of the ugliness in the world.

So when my braveheart that always speaks his mind asked a few weeks ago if I ever thought about just telling everyone. I responded very similarly to Seungwon's mom here. "I can do that. Do you really want me to? Just think about what would happen." It took him all of about 15 seconds. "It would be bad. Real bad. Yeah, don't do that."

So I'll stay silent and evade...for now. I'll stop when their answer changes or if, like Seungwon, they or another kid in the community needs me to flip the table for them so they can proudly embrace their own identity. Their needs are my priority when it comes to the larger community.

In the meantime, I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure they feel loved and supported for who they are. We watched Star Trek during our family movie night the other month, and when we got to this scene...

my oldest laughed. "Mom. That sounds like something you would say."

That feels like a win in my book.

And if Heesu in Class 2 makes even one queer kid have hope that they'll be accepted or gives them the courage to step into the light in a world that's not a BL bubble, then that's a win in my book too.

No matter where I end up rating it once I can approach it more objectively.

[peechglaze]

Guys, I'm begging you.

This is the interaction with Ellie and Dina in the tent, with full punctuation and sentence structure from the official captions.

Dina: My question is.... how would you rate it? Scale of one to ten. Ellie: No. Dina: Come on. You've kissed girls before. You're gay, I'm not. I'm just curious. I wanna know if I'm any good at it. One to ten.

Dina is NOT saying she's bi-curious. She's saying she's curious on how Ellie would rate their kiss. "You're gay, I'm not" isn't meant to be taken at face value.

After this interaction, Dina goes on to talk about if Jesse seems sad to Ellie, and how she hopes that that's just how he is because if it's not, then it's her. Which I interpret as either Dina projecting and not actually talking about Jesse in this moment and talking about herself, or is a way to vaguely gesture at the possibility that Jesse sees how Dina is repressing her feelings and her sexuality, and it's making him sad about the situation or for her.

She rolls over immediately after this and, after a bit of silence, she tells Ellie that she wasn't that high when they kissed. This is her trying to tell Ellie how she feels, how she made the decision to kiss Ellie herself, that it wasn't because she was high and wanted to try things out.

Yeah, Dina isn't as confident in her sexuality as she is in the game- and I do have my own issues with that- but she is not a straight girl stringing Ellie along. She is a girl who has been exclusively with men for all of her dating life, and is realising that her feelings for her girl best friend aren't exactly platonic, and is trying to navigate that. She's a bisexual girl who hasn't realised she can like girl and boys and that's okay.

Is it awkward? Yeah. But I'm sure at least some of you have been in a similar situation.

She gave Ellie so many opportunities to affirm her feelings because she's in denial and/or is scared to make the first move. She's trying so obviously hard to sus out how Ellie feels, which Ellie misinterprets and it's a whole song and dance that we see from baby queers all of the time.

Yes, it's a change to her character, but it's not as big of a change as you all think. She is still bisexual, we're just watching her figure that out.

Slightly off topic but I also don't view her going back to Jesse as her toying with Ellie or playing with her emotions-- because she's bisexual and can still date and have sex with men, but it's also not unusual for her to go and seek comfort in someone she has loved and trusted for a large portion of her life when she is hurting. Especially when she feels somewhat guilty for keeping things from Ellie. She was traumatised and needed love and support. It's not shameful for her to go to Jesse for that, especially as he wasn't there in the lodge. He was there after, but he didn't go through what she and Ellie did. He's removed enough that it probably felt comforting somehow-- a relief. I also doubt Ellie was in any sort of position to properly give her that, which is also not anyone's fault.

Anyway, like I said, I too have some issues with how they're pacing things, but this is not an erasure of her sexuality and character.

[abyssalzones]

""freaky and creepy" to the extent a girl can look freaky and creepy while still being cute and desirable" YOU'RE RIGHT AND YOU SHOULD SAY IT!!! Even in an indie project that wouldn't face the same design/story restrictions as larger companies with execs looming over their shoulders and micro-managing every decision in a cold, calculated manner, they STILL fall into the trap of allowing the male characters to be as wild and whacky as they can possibly be whilst the only Girl still has to look and act a certain way because... she's the Girl One. I can understand how some people could miss the inherent misogyny here because yeah admittedly That Pilot does have some pretty cool visuals and neat animation and it might not jump out at you from the first watch, but it is so endlessly frustrating once you see through it and realise it's yet another example to add to the pile. Can we get some REAL unhinged crazy freak women who are allowed to not look like marketable dolls or are we all out. did you check the back. can you check the back.

actually you know what I'll go ahead and answer these. why not

real as hell we need more freak women and the monster high doll format isn't cutting it + I think the thing you bring up here that I'm the most interested in talking about is the discussion irt this being an Independent project but still falling for the same trappings of industry productions. this connects to my larger issues with the indie animation scene in general where even though the work is entirely independent and Not beholden to restrictions/changes made or suggested by a team of executives who are trying to secure Advertising Money through the broadest appeal possible, the people who make the indie art are still.... making that art with the language of the existent industry. like animation is so deeply entrenched in the world of advertising that people don't know how to make stories any other way.

and to a degree it's difficult to say how to truly get away with that, because then you run into questions like... is trying to make a story that appeals to people literally at all a matter of "advertising language"? how do you garner a big enough audience to materially support your project if you're making work that might not look like it's going to catch the attention of the largest common denominator? there's a lot of balancing acts to consider, artistic integrity (or maybe just "making something with actual fucking substance") and being able to Eat and Pay Your Workers have always been in contention with one another under capitalism or otherwise under a market structure... but I personally believe there will always be an audience for stuff that is truly different or daring, and that That is the type of work that is remembered in the long term. hang on let me pull out scott mccloud "understanding comics" excerpt

I really need to print this out and hang it up on my wall one of these days

[clocainiac]

HERE COMES THE WLW!!! This was a request from Ao3 for Wembley Greasedinah headcanons so i hope i can feed yall! these headcanons are based off of lilianna and lara’s version because look at the cuties, no look at them, YOU AREN’T LOOKING! ALSO loads of these headcanons are gross and weird because i want them to be, i just love making horrendous headcanons for my favourite characters, the more i love them the grosser the headcanons! ALSO ALSO big thanks to @dove-bunny-love for inspiring some of these!

GREASEDINAH:

- Greaseball and Dinah both fight with their bangs every fucking day like i’m talking WW3 type shit, they will both be in the bathroom crashing out as they try making the perfect bang ratio, its the most stressful bonding experience you can imagine as they try to convince eachother their bangs look perfect.

- Also while they are working together if there’s the slightest hint of wind and their bangs lift up, Greaseball will start cussing out the sky, just verbally assaulting the clouds and all the other coaches have to listen in awkwardness as Dinah comforts GB.

- GB is the prime suspect for stinking out the sheds with body spray, you can always tell where she’s been because she sweats Lynx body spray, SPECIFICALLY the Africa scent. Tassita and Belle will go to the Coaches Shed after a long day at work and just get absolutely gassed by the GreaseMonster sitting on their sofa. GB always has a full stock as-well since the trains at the yard never know what to buy her for Christmas so she gets 50 million Africa Lynx sets.

- Dinah on the other hand smells gorgeous either imagine sugar cookings with a hint of vanilla OR bubblegum by Moschino. Also when Dinah first went for a ‘sleepover’ ;) in GB’s shed she found her 5 in 1 gel and the Lynx bottle army. Dinah was horrified, since then she forced GB to buy separate products for hair and body but GB still doesn’t grasp the problem with her 5 in 1.

- I’m sorry not sorry GB lovers (I swear I do like GB I just give them the nastiest head canons because they are the nasty) BUT GB has the stinkiest, eye watering, gag evoking farts known to man. It’s sulphuric hell, just straight up toilet stench and she DGAF! GB is a straight up villain as-well because unless Dinah is behind her she will crop dust like no tomorrow. ‘This is my back view and it’s all you’ll see?’ no buddy it’s what we can all smell; Dinahs farts literally smell like roses and world peace because she is PERFECT and you LEAVE HER ALONE!

- When it’s root cover up season, GB and Dinah both have to take a weekend off work because it’s a hands on affair. GB can mostly get away with being less precise with dying her hair but Dinah’s has to be PERFECT, like she will spend 12 hours just perfectly separating her hair before she can even use a hint of dye.

- Not only that but the will shed turns into a modern art project with multicoloured splats everywhere which Dinah has tried everything to get it out of the walls and furniture but to no avail so she leaves it up to interpretation for guests.

- The moment Dinah breaches her and GB’s shed, Dinah’s makeup, hair and clothes get shredded off. There’s a humongous pile of bobby pins and elastics on Dinah’s vanity as she meticulously pulls out each one, if GB comes back in time she will skate up behind Dinah and do it for her with so much care, that Dinah can’t help the tears that wet her eyes.

- When GB finally undoes Dinah’s buns and can successfully run her calloused fingers through Dinah’s hair without any snags, she gives Dinah the best head massage you could imagine. She hits all the right spots and the ache of the day just melts away.

- GB is really bad at communication, as in she can’t articulate her feelings properly which is why she’s so rash and reckless because that’s how she feels heard. This means that instead of telling Dinah how she feels she will avoid the question and start talking about something else so it’s like a riddle for Dinah to get the bottom of a problem with GB.

-Also sometimes GB just responds to Dinah verbally with emojis instead of having a conversation. For example Dinah will say “I’m thinking of baking something, maybe some cookies?” and GB will respond with “Thumbs up, Smiley face, Heart” So Dinah is stood there like wtf are you saying…ALSO GB is the most nonchalant texter ever like she will respond with ‘k’ and ‘sure’ constantly which drives Dinah CRAZY.

- GB chews everything, like straws so whenever her and Dinah try to romantically share drinks it gets ruined because the straw has been chewed so much you can barely suck anything out of it. And GB scrans paper. That’s it. No but seriously when GB is bored and reading something (which is rare) she will just start eating the corners of the paper or rolling them into mini toothpicks. So when Dinah picks up sticky notes or letters around the house all the corners will be missing and suspiciously wet.

- Although GB acts tough in the yard she is the fattest snugglebug in the world! The moment it hits 10pm Dinah gets dragged into the bedroom, undressed for skin to skin, then forced onto the bed so GB can entangle their bodies together. Not even for sexual reasons, she just loves being close to her. Many mornings, Dinah will wake up to a mullet in her face as GB’s face is smooshed into her boobs.

- Dinah loves bath time and her personal space! Turns out GB loves these things too! If GB actually realises she’s made Dinah upset, GB will make her a hot bubbly bath with a couple candles (that totally didn’t go wrong while lighting them…) Dinah can’t help but giggle and swoon as she soaks and GB will sit on the toilet nattering with her. I think these two are suckers for the simple domestics.

- There’s always lipstick marks on them! Even a simple kiss on the cheek means a big smudge of either yellow or hot pink/red. Currently GB and Dinah haven’t found a solution or compromise for this, so they just suck it up and go with the flow meaning when they have their rendezvous it’s very, very obvious.

- Whilst Dinahs baking, GB makes it her personal challenge to eat as much of the batter as possible before it gets cooked. This means that if Dinah goes for a two second toilet break she will come to half the batter gone and GB smacking her lips together like a dog with peanut butter as she tries to swallow the evidence. Dinah has warned her about the effects of salmonella but come on this is GB we are talking about she dgaf!

- This is a really silly one but the thought of it made me giggle so hard, you know that video of the Pizza Hut worker who cinched their apron really tight while doing the K. Howard trend from SIX? Yeah Dinah does that every time with her apron and GB still can’t figure out how.

- Cunty eyelashes to the max. You heard me, GB and Dinah have a huge drawer just dedicated to lashes and there is every lash imaginable (even glitter, or multicoloured ones!)

- Sometimes GB will just forget she’s a woman, she will start scratching her ‘balls’ and Dinah will look at her disgusted. In response GB goes “What my balls itch?” And Dinah will have to awkwardly remind her she doesn’t have any.

- Guys I promise I don’t hate GB I just want to squeeze her so tight her head falls off her shoulders. I actually love her sm I want to crush her and Dinah and then use them as play doh.

[alicelillianshaw]

Well that was gratifying. It was a good imitation, according to Jack.

(Despite having never met the creature).

Alice feels another stab of longing— wishing she had met him years ago. Early enough that she could have shown him Gub Gub. So she could have done his little wheeks side-by-side for comparison, and Jack would probably laugh just like now, belly-deep and infectious and charming in the way his eyes narrowed in amusement.

Maybe, with Jack alongside her, Alice's life wouldn't have been so turbulent in college. It was a lot to project, on someone she just met, but— but she felt understood by Jack. She felt content alongside him.

Something in her belly warms, hearing Jack compliment.

Yeah— they definitely would have gotten along with him.

But now she wants to hear about him.

It's one thing to scroll through a wikipedia page — it's another thing to hear about a family through someone's lived experience.

Not just anyone, but Jack's.

Everyone— save for a few cousins — remained here on the East coast.

They had roots here, by this ocean. New York City. The oil business. Car manufacturing. A great-grandfather with an entire brood of kids, and four whole wives!

Alice laughs at that.

Imagines some tycoon, dressed in a waistcoats, dripping with money, with an entire football team's worth of children.

'He fell in love with New York so much that he just made his kids promise that they’d always stick around and not wander too far. He was a real hard ass, apparently. I only met him when I was like really little. He was really old, and I was sorta scared of him. He made this whole big thing about staying close together, and how he wanted his kids and grandkids and great grandkids to stay on the coast because the Kennedy family had made history, and we helped shape and build New York and the surrounding areas and whatever.'

Alice just stares at Jack as he talks— smiling to herself, engrossed in a family history that could fill a documentary.

But besides all the history?

She liked hearing Jack talk. Liked hearing how history intertwined with his memories.

When he apologizes for sharing, Alice makes a harsh noise, waves her hand at him aggressively from across the pool.

"Stop, stop!" A huff. "Don't apologize for sharing that. Or sharing anything with me, honestly. That's so fucking cool." A grin, and Alice churns the water with her left foot. Little Jack. Terrified of his great grandfather. Descended from a long line of people who made an impact.

And now he sat in congress! Created laws and policy.

Impacted the entire world.

"I mean– your family could be in a fucking episode on PBS." she shakes her head. "The fact that you can go to New York and point out all the things that your family made happen... that's so fucking cool."

"If I were your great grandfather, I'd probably make everyone promise to stay in the area too."

And now Alice won't be able to look at New York the same. There was simply no way she'd be able to walk about the city and not peer and buildings and bridges and bays and wonder if the Kennedy family had touched the area— built it and placed their mark.

She would never not be able to see Jack in every street.

It made her glad.

"You know— I'm kind of picturing your great grandfather as one of the rich guys from Mary Poppins. Very fancy tailored suit and waistcoat. A pocket-watch." She smiles. "Maybe he didn't look like that at all, but that's how I picture a tycoon, I guess."

Jack laughed. Deep, from his belly, at Alice’s attempt at happy guinea pig noises. His face felt warm. He shook his head in slight disbelief. They were getting very comfortable with one another.

“I bet he sounded exactly like that.”

That had to be the cutest thing anyone had ever done, right?

Jack was happy to hear that Alice had family nearby. A sister to visit over a long weekend. But what really made Jack feel happy and warm was when Alice told him that she liked her family, and that she’d wanted to share them with Jack because she liked him. That’s what was implied, anyway, and it nearly made his heart burst out of his chest right then and there.

“Well, thanks. I like hearing about your family. They all seem pretty cool.”

Jack had to bite his tongue to refrain from saying something like: and it’s very kind of them to take in an alien girl and raise her alongside humans.

He didn’t want to risk losing any points. New Mexico was very important to him now.

When Alice asked about his family, Jack sighed, his expression remaining neutral. He loved his family. He really did. But when he thought back on his childhood, he felt sad sometimes. He didn’t dare speak those feelings out loud because any sane person would’ve looked at him like he was crazy.

Your parents are … millionaires? You’re a white guy who is set up for life and who got everything you asked for growing up, and thinking about your childhood makes you feel sad? 

It was still the way that he felt. His mother was overbearing and cared too much what people thought. She wanted to show off through Jack — the perfect son with perfect grades who could speak two languages at age ten. She always presented little Jackson as athletic and bold and polite and passionate and beautiful.

His father didn’t really acknowledge him at all when he was young, which made Jack feel totally disconnected from the man. Jack loved his father, and his father loved Jack deeply. They’d actually grown closer as Jack got older, but after this most recent scandal, something had shifted in their relationship. His father was disappointed in Jack, and it was difficult not to notice.

It hurt a lot.

Alice was asking about where his family stayed, not what he felt about his family growing up, so he smiled softly and answered her question.

“Yeah. Most of my family is here. I think the only people who have ever made it out of the east coast are like … some of my cousins who wanted to try traveling or living somewhere else, but I don’t know. Everyone always comes back. We have a lot of roots here.”

Jack shrugged. Jack wasn’t sure if he could ever leave the east coast. He really loved it there.

A lot of this was publicly known, but he decided to tell Alice anyway because — well, she’d asked, and it was presumptuous to think that she’d studied his entire family history before this interview.

“So, my grandpa used to tell me a lot of stories about our family history, which I really enjoyed. We made this really big family tree, but we got stuck somewhere in the 1700s. Anyway. My great-great-great whatevers got into the oil business, made a shit ton of money, then got into the car manufacturing businesses at the turn of the century, and a bunch of boring stuff that made a lot of money. My great grandfather used to go to New York a lot, and he apparently loved it. So he settled down there. Had a ton of kids. Four wives.”

She hadn’t asked for a history lesson. Jack knew that, and he felt a little embarrassed at having ranted for so long, but talking about this stuff felt very easy for Alice. It didn't sound as warm and special as the things she'd shared with him, but he still wanted her to know.

“He fell in love with New York so much that he just made his kids promise that they’d always stick around and not wander too far. He was a real hard ass, apparently. I only met him when I was like really little. He was really old, and I was sorta scared of him. He made this whole big thing about staying close together, and how he wanted his kids and grandkids and great grandkids to stay on the coast because the Kennedy family had made history, and we helped shape and build New York and the surrounding areas and whatever.”

Jack kicked his feet in the water.

“Sorry. You... didn’t ask any of that, did you?"

Jack scratched at the back of his head.

"Basically, my mom is from Connecticut. She and my dad met through their families. We're all diehard east coast people, unfortunately.”

[gamerbunny1996]

The YouTuber and the singer part 2

The day has come where I'm going to be on chuckle week with my crush. I was pacing back and forth in the office Pip just watching from the couch. “I shouldn't have agreed” I panicked. Pip just rolled her eyes. “I'm going to be too obvious then everyone will know I like him” my voice cracking a little. I soon sit down next to Pip with my head in my hands. My legs start to bounce and my breath becomes short and panicked. “You'll be fine, I'll be there,” Pip said. I looked at her “that's the problem” she scoffed, rolling her eyes. “I promise I will not say anything.” I just sigh out. “Alright then let's get going.” I stood up and walked to the elevator. We walked out to my car as Pip got in and we drove to the place that the chuckle week was happening at.

We get inside and meet everyone there. I tried to avoid Schlatt as long as I could. Once I was actually face to face with him I almost ran, instead I smiled and said my hellos and did a quick introduction. He was huge compared to me. He towers overs. I feel like a small dog next to him. He smiled at me and introduced himself. He started to guide me over to the podcast area. It was set up as a cute little dinner with a big booth. Schlatt had me scoot into the middle. And he sat next to me. I was about to have a mental breakdown with him being so close.

Pip slid in next to me. And Ted went in next to her. We waited for them to start the podcast. My leg started to bounce out of anxiety. I tried to stop it but it was hard. Soon I felt a hand on my knee making my leg stop bouncing. I looked at the hand and followed it up to see Schlatt looking at me. “You okay?” he asked me. “Yeah, I just get bad anxiety sometimes,” I smile. He just nods but keeps his hands on my knee making my anxiety worse. The man I like is touching me.

The podcast soon started and they did the intro, introducing me and Pip. “So we already met Y/N but we haven't met Pip yet, introduce yourself” Ted asked Pip. “Well I'm just a side piece to the band” Pip said as I wacked her arm. “Aww fine,fine I'm the drummer of the band” she held where I slapped her. I just rolled my eyes. “She is so dramatic sometimes” I said laughing.

The podcast went on asking more about the band and behind the scenes of it. Soon the question I was dreading came. “So do we get another hint? It's been two weeks,” Ted asked the question. “I have no more you got what you got” I huffed. “Please y/n for meee” Pip put her hands together and started to beg me. Ted soon joined in too. I just rolled my eyes. “I have no hints” I shrugged. “Then just tell us” Jschlatt soon tuned in. “No I'm not doing that” I pointed a finger at Schlatt. I soon felt Schlatt squeeze my knee. I give him a what the fuck look. He just smirked at me.

“Okay I have a hint he has pets there now shut up” I crossed my arms and leaned back. “Can we know how many or what kind?” Ted asked, leaning over the table. I shook my head no. They all groaned. “Fine, well busy this later let's continue on” Ted said.

We continued on the podcast joking around most the time. Schlatt kept his hand on my knee the whole podcast as well. I got used to it. Once the podcast ended and we never revisited my crush topic again to my relief. We all got up and was chilling around until we had to go back to Ted's place for the cooking video.

Schlatt and I were left alone in our own world. We talked about how the podcast went. “So what's with this crush of yours” he smirked. I blushed and rolled my eyes. “Pip is just being annoying because I won't fully tell her who but I sadly think she knows who” I turned my head away not really wanting to look into his eyes right now. “Oh she does now. So if I go ask she will tell me” he smirked leaning in closer to my face as I was still turned away slightly. Ted, Pip, and Tucker all walked over. “Let's go before it gets too late the two girls got a project going on tonight” Ted said, making me sighed out of relief glad to finish this conversation with Schlatt.

We get to Ted's place, alcohol already lined up on the kitchen counter. I'm about to regret something tonight. Ted started to pour the beginning shots of tonight. Tucker was getting all the video stuff set up. I was starting to feel it now. “Today we are making homemade spaghetti and meatballs with a cake as dessert, drunk,” Ted points to the camera, clearly already drunk. I giggled. “I call making the cake I'm a good baker” I raised my hand. “I'll join,” Schlatt soon said. So me and Schlatt were on cake duty. I was having a hard time paying attention from all the dizziness. I just started giggling as Schlatt was cracking the eggs.

The alcohol soon took over and I grabbed some flour and poured it onto Schlatts head crying laughing. He looked shocked. “What the hell” he looked at me laughing hard at what I just did. This made Ted and Pip stop what they were doing and looked at us. “Okay no more alcohol for you” Schlatt shook his head after saying that making flour go everywhere. “What nooo I want more to drink” I whined.

“No, I don't want more flour on me,” he said, pushing the beer bottle away from me. I just giggled remembering what I just did. We then went back to work. After we got the batter mixed out I wiped a little on Schlatts nose giggling. He just gives me a are you serious look. I licked the rest of the batter off my fingers. “You know you got batter on your nose” I giggled. “Oh I do” Schlatt rolled his eyes, pouring the cake batter into a pan. “Yeah. Let me get it” I leaned in and licked the batter off the tip of his nose. He sits up looking shocked. “Okay it's bed time for you” he said, pushing me off camera. I just giggled away. Ted and Pip started to laugh, enjoying my drink antics.

Schlatt took off both our mics and walked me out of the kitchen to the living room to get me to lay down. He helped me take off my shoes. He just stayed silent as I laughed away. “Hey y/n who's your crush?” he asked. “Shhhh he can't know” I say, putting my finger over Schlatts lips. “Come on, you can trust me,” he smiled. I closed my eyes. “Promise” I said. He nodded and said promise back. I said sleepy and said “Jschlatt he can't know” before passing out drunk. His eyes widened in shock.

[hatsukeii]

12:51 FM / K. AKAASHI

•၊၊||၊|။||||| 0:10 hello hello, you are currently tuned in to 12:51 FM. this is your host IYKO speaking. welcome to the show.

pairing(s): k. akaashi x reader

podcast status: ongoing

taglist status: open

podcast content(s): slight angst with good ending, high school best friends, pining, misunderstanding trope, falling out, corpo slave akaashi x anonymous podcast host reader, mixed formatting

content warning(s): corpo slavery, a good amount of use of y/n (sfw, gn reader!)

podcast overview: a corporate slave's lifeline- music and introspection at an odd time of night, provided by none other than a weird, altered voice through a podcast mic.

•၊၊||၊|။||||| 0:23 let's get started with tonight then, midnight dwellers.

EPISODES:

PROLOGUE: 12:51 AM EP. 1: CAN WE TALK ABOUT THE SHIRT? EP. 2: ... MORE TO COME...

taglist: @wyrcan @kawoala @bakery-anon @tobiosluvr @kameyyy @chuuya-brainrot @catsoupki @staraxiaa @akaakeis @velvetreds @bailey-reeds @fiannee @hiraethwa @hiraethwrote @kongkhoi @gumims

p.s. comment/dm for taglist!

[reunitedinterlude]

phil’s sci-fi project forever in my heart (1, 2)

[dkettchen]

she would've told them unlike her canon! version who decided not to be an ally smh