#why do people allow giant corporations to tell them what to think???

[the-far-bright-center]

Even after all this time, it still baffles me that there are people who can treat Disney's additions to Star Wars as some kind of inevitable continuation of the original saga (which has been officially completed since Revenge of the Sith). I'll never understand how anyone can watch the six-film Lucas saga and then watch the Disney material (particularly the fake Sequels) and not notice or care about the glaring thematic and characterisation differences between the two. Or how anyone could just passively accept Disney streamlining everything into one single 'canon'—aka glorified fanfiction which has only been marketed as canon in order to encourage its mass consumption—despite the fact that it disrespects and even outright destroys the meaning of the story it claims to be continuing.

The fact that so many seem to have forgotten or perhaps never truly understood what the saga was originally intended to be—aka, two trilogies telling a single mythic story that perfectly mirror one another visually and thematically—and now only see 'Star Wars' as an eternally open-ended franchise, will never cease to break my heart.

[spearkarrier]

So on Disney...

I was born and raised in Florida, and #Disney is coming to my hometown and laying flat things that once were conserved by nature laws. Disney has always overshadowed my life. Disney is like a giant looming over you, but you don't completely notice until one day you open your eyes, look up and realize "there's this thing and it has control of parts of your life". I've seen Disney shut down a daycare because they had a character on the wall without paying for licensing. (Why not remove the character? Yeah I know. S'not the point. There was no litigation. It was just shut down. Imagine being a low income parent losing your job because suddenly you had no childcare thanks to Disney. As I've lost a job because of a petty person quitting on me literally in the morning I had to go to work, I can tell you it's devastating.) I myself have had items I make removed because they MIGHT be inspired by the big corporate owned things. Videos copyright struck because, even though the song was public domain, I sang it too well or something. I dunno. So #DeSantis taking away Disney's right to be a sovereign nation in my hometown? You better fucking believe I cheered that on. THEY ARE NOT A POLITICAL ENTITY. THEY ARE A BUSINESS but somehow get more rights then you and I? Disney clapping back? Of course they would. DeSantis clapping back at the clap back? Of course it would happen. This is the action more and more people have been shouting to see: some actual movement towards good changes instead of bitch bitch bitch. No one has won against Disney? At least he's gonna try.

Do you want to know what's fascist? LIVING UNDER A CORPORATE THUMB, BEING TOLD WHAT YOU CAN AND CANNOT SAY, DO, SING, ETC BY BIG TECH. Like Disney. And others. I know because I've always lived in fear of the echoes, and even watched my family fight for our land. I don't understand people who claim to hate fascism gloat and cheer that Disney is going to squash a guy who is standing up against one of the many elements of fascism - that btw was doing it as part of a tax-free ride. Things are a bit more expensive here in Florida - but we don't pay income tax and even have free healthcare (or at least we used to. Grew up on free healthcare. I gotta check to see if that fact still stands.) So making that multi-million corporation pay their fair share? #HELLFUCKINGYES

I like some Disney stuff - the Buzz Lightyear movie was a snore but anyway - but if I can't live here tax free why should this corporation get to do it... and influence the laws that dictate how I live? I don't care if you like him. I don't care if you think he's a twit. That isn't the issue, and it's childish to pretend it is. The issue is that corporations in America were given the same rights as real citizens, and they've been using that (and propaganda) to shape the quality of our lives for the worse for at least a generation if not two. Repeal the laws that give them immunity and see how quickly things change. Vote with your feet while you can. Repeal the laws that don't allow you to. The law has been used against us. I noticed it when I was 12. I don't know why some of you adults can't see it now. #fuckthecorporaterule Also, quit coming to my state. Y'all have the housing here so high I can't buy a home even with preapprovement. Go somewhere else or I'm going to sic the queen of gators on you.

[forabetterlifethanthis]

Terriblific

I can’t stand people who use unnecessarily superfluous affectations in an attempt to sound like a linguistic erudite. All they do is come across as supercilious and self-enthralled. Thank the Almighty I have not the proclivity for this.

 The plan for this was to talk about how diametrically terrible and (what’s the difference between positivity and self-praise?) terrific I am. Unfortunately that plan has fallen foul to the fact that I feel absolutely shit today. Bottom of the sewers, beneath a giant fatberg level of shit. I could go into it, but who cares. I fear it may affect the rationality of my writing. Then I thought, I don’t really care either.

 So, I am terrible. That’s pretty obvious. I am incapable of gratitude, incapable of enjoyment, incapable of empathy, and incapable of acceptance. My thoughts consist of “how long until I can die” and “I’m really hungry”. I exude miasmic misery into the lives of the people I love and care about. Then they feel sad. Then I feel sad because they feel sad. I have an unmovable mentality that the world is awful and everyone is awful.  I think that even if I were to be healthy, why would I want to breathe in a world like this. We all know the problems. I don’t need to list them. I have my suffering and I have my pain but instead of trying to overcome them, I let them bring me down and self-flagellate myself with every pejorative I can express. I allow feelings of helplessness and hopelessness to dominate me with no resistance. My motivation lies in tatters and the only things I enjoy are food and pills. Instead of getting on with my life, I am obsessed with making sure everyone knows just how miserable I am. There must be a word for this. Alas,not one that I know of. I have delusions of grandeur and dreams of lives that I will never have and probably wouldn’t even want. I am a hypocrite. I denigrate my generation for being so self-enraptured and yet I am the exact same. At least I am trying to change. Finding it rather impossible right now though. I want to be the people that I hold in such vitriolic distain. Because I am fooled by the fluff and think being materialistically prosperous and desirable will make me happy. It won’t. But try telling my thick brain that. I feel the need to be liked and respected, but I don’t want to want this. I want to be able to smile and let everything go. I wish I could.

 Despite this, I have done some markedly impressive things, by my own low expectations, in my life.  I’ve never travelled the world; I’ve never ran an ironman marathon; I’ve never volunteered to save the rainforests.  In all fairness, I would be hopeless at all these things.  If I were asked now “what is your greatest achievement?”, my answer would be “that I’m still alive”.  Like I have recounted many times, I have had 57 surgeries in my lifetime.  I have endured a lot of needles, a lot of feeling terrified, and a lot of pain.  I have been rejected, derided, excluded and abandoned.  By so many people, and so many times.  I have suffered from varying levels of depression for eight years, with a crescendo from now to the next two months.  Again, despite this, I have had some personal achievements that I am proud of. I got offered a scholarship to an (at the time) top 20 university. Where I managed to scrape a 2:1 while having missed half of my final year. I’ve been offered three full-time jobs since then, and only got kicked out of one.  Unfortunately needing sporadic surgery isn’t acceptable in the cunting corporate city world. But thank fuck for that because I now have a mostly stable job where I have met some people in my short life. Well, maybe not quite so. Might come to that. Anyway, they did leave me on full-pay during my five 19 months off. So, take comfort in your hard-earned taxpayer money being used to fund my salary while I lie in bed feeling sorry for myself. Rule Britannia!

 Writing this truly did mollify some of my more intensely negative emotions. If you didn’t enjoy it, please take some solace in that I did. Here’s a quick update on my current circs: If you do not care, I will not know or be offended or care if you skipped this. As expected, I still have no vision in the eye with potential vision . However, it has been flashing as bad as ever, but I really don’t think I have anything more to say on that.  Sometimes I feel I am getting used to it, other times I want to put my face in my pillow, my fingers in my ears, and scream. I have some tunnel vision in my shit eye, but given the precurser of it being labelled as shit, it remains pretty shit. In terms of my pain, I have had a slight improvement.  It is obdurately and undeniably still there, but it’s as if I am not taking as much notice of it.  Whether that be one of the  cocktails of Valium, anti-inflammatories, nerve blockers or the morphine-family drug, or me being distracted by the flashing,  I cannot tell.  It doesn’t feel like it is a long-term fix.  There is positivity when it comes to my mood.  Instead of wanting to be 1000 miles beneath the earth or eviscerated in the depths of space every day, I now only feel like this around three in four days. That is undeniable progress.  But whether I see myself wanting to be around in 66 days, I am afraid that right now it is an answer that you don’t want to hear. Or perhaps you do. I know I get on peoples’ tits.  

[cozycryptidcorner]

Monster Match #13

A Monster match for a wonderfully awesome user who wishes to remain anonymous!

So I learned I'm an INTP-T after some serious struggling and a near identity crisis however something I've always taken to heart and feel fits me to a T is my zodiac(s) which are Cancer (sun) and the rabbit those I'm much more confident in describing me I'm basically any of their stereotypes and I still don't know myself the best but I can think of highlights: I'm a hopeless romantic with relationship anxiety and a sex repulsed sex positive aspec as in I'm literally the whole aspectrum if it's on there I've experienced it at least once. I go by any pronoun However my favorite is what I describe as creature gender and my favorite pronouns to match are it/it's. I could be a plus size model if I wasn't so low maintenence (if you can't tell I have severe confidence both in the highs and lows simultaneously; I'm the best, I'm the worst) and while I have my moments that I Do Not Want To Be Perceived I absolutely adore when my body is worshipped by someone I want

You’ve been matched with a solarpunk dragon shifter!

There’s a reason why cities are called concrete jungles, even if the main building material of choice is no longer concrete. Buildings jut out into the clouds, sprouting from the earth like redwood giants of an older world, made from metal and plexiglass. Trains run through a carefully planned grid like a river, washing this way and that, providing perfect transportation for the thickly crowded nightlife. People of different backgrounds and cultures hurry to their destinations, each designated with a niche that keeps the system functioning and running. Like animals, even the most write-off job has purpose, the garbage collectors keeping the streets clean, the engineers keeping the structures safe, the accountants making sure wall street brokers’ tax evasions fly just under the IRS’s radar.

Since an overturning of corporate greed, though, vine-based plants crawl up against the buildings, working in tandem against the smog and pollution. State-sanction solar panel grids slowly follow the movements of the sun when it peeks out from behind the thick fog. No fossil fuels are allowed within a certain bubble of the city’s limits, which does wonder for the surrounding air quality. It’s a new beginning, a city managing to gut its previous infrastructure over a large amount of time.

There’s a whole new sector of custodians rising up to meet the demands of plant-based environments. Technically, they’re botanists, and should be regarded as landscapers, but the plant care is intrinsic to the buildings itself. Agricultural engineers work with architects to create special types of plating that encourages moss and other plant growth, while being repellent to mildew and molds. He works in the main area of the city, in atmosphere control. The job itself isn’t too terribly gratuitous, he monitors the oxygen and carbon levels in the various districts, flipping a switch to start working the air purifiers if things reach red. Compared to other towns that have yet to install them, the pollution levels are so low the city is almost at carbon neutral.

You don’t know what it is about him- but he looks like how an average agricultural engineer looks like in your head, when he’s in his human form. You don’t know if it’s the reputation of the half scientific, half farmer boy idea of the words, or if you’ve just seen enough of his fellow coworkers to facemorph him in your head. Or maybe it’s just his soft, gentle demeanor that screams his fondness for plants and gardening.

His hair is a mop of black, a shade that looks almost blue in the sunlight. Because of the pandemic restricting his haircut access, his hair has recently been developing into a mullet… which would normally be unfortunate, but he has one of those unique faces that seem to work with the length. Straight but voluminous, with bangs that carefully fall over his eyebrows. His eyes are a rich blue, the kind of blue that spills out from the top of the sky when the sun slowly sets. The irises large, almost a touch bigger than the average human, and you think it’s because dragons have some of the sharpest eyesight on the planet.

His skin tans in the summer and pales over in the winter, especially because he cannot stand the cold, thus minimizing his time outside. He gets all mad and pissy when it snows, despite agreeing that it is kind of beautiful, and making snow angels is fun, and sculpting eldritch abominations instead of snowmen is hilarious, but he will never be caught dead admitting to any sort of love for the winter.

His dragon form is something to behold, though he’s only licensed by the city for a few hours of full dragon-form during the week. It’s something about the height of the buildings matched with average air traffic; he has to get himself to a nearby smaller town surrounded by agricultural fields before he can take to the sky. He flies the same way people go out for jogs, to exercise those unused muscles and to keep himself fit. Though, admittedly, it’s to keep his dragon form in its prime, rather than keeping his humanoid form fit.

He’s as large as those trams, long and shockingly lithe. On the ground, it seems impossible to miss him, his figure so massive thirty people could ride upon his back. Dragons, though, have an iffy relationship with giving people rides on their backs. You think it has to do with the indignity of the action, similar to how horses are treated, but after awhile of dating, he seems to be fine with you tagging alone.

His scales are like his eyes, a reflection and dance of blues and greens. When he’s up among the clouds, he’s so well camouflaged that no naked human eye can see his figure. Up in the sky, he’s free, and you can feel the thrill of flight rustle through his body. While you might have to wear protective goggles for the wind hitting your face, he’s perfectly within his element, floating and diving as he wills.

Outside of his fondness for gardening and flying, he has a deep adoration for trashy reality TV. Not because he believes it, but he has a special sort of fondness for the insane amount of drama that stems from Love Island and the like. It’s the kind of show that he can only watch with you, while partially half-drunk on sweet wine, giggling and mocking the show for everything it’s got.

[lemonjoonah]

Level of Restraint (M)

Pairings: Jimin x Reader, Namjoon x Reader, Taehyung x Reader Word Count: 13K  Rating: M  Genre: Thriller, smut, office AU, BDSM AU  Warnings(contains spoilers): This story contains very dark themes and may not be suited to all readers, protected sex (vag+anal), threesome, double penetration, bondage (including partial suspension), dom/sub roles (reader is a sub), praise kink, mild degration, sensory deprivation, spanking, fingering, cum feeding, mild breathplay, sex toys, exhibitionism, voyeurism, discussion of safe word, Namjoon is a professional dom/sex worker, referenced discrimination of sex workers and those who participate in BDSM, public outing of sexual practices, inappropriate workplace relationships, referenced death of minor character, yandere character, misidentified sexual partner, manipulation, bribery, blackmail, implied stalking, violence.

Summary: As a co-founder of a consulting firm you can’t afford to be caught in a scandal. So flirting with your secretary, Jimin, would be out of the question. Giving your client’s son, Taehyung, a reference for a sexual partner would be reprehensible. And having regular paid BDSM sessions with your dominant, Namjoon? That would be a career ending disgrace. It’s too bad the only restraints in life you approve of are the cuffs that bind you to the bed, because there are those hiding in the dark waiting to take advantage. 

A/N: A huge thank you to everyone who supported me while writing this story. It was hard not to question the level of darkness this tale descends to. In the end your assurances and aid are the only reason this fic made it to fruition. Upon reading you might notice several thematic references to the ‘Fall of the House of Usher,’ by Edgar Allan Poe  and the Greek myth of Tantalus. They are two of my favourite tales, and together they greatly represent the darkened desires depicted in this oneshot.

...

8:55 am KNJ: Good girl.

Your heart races upon receiving the response you’ve been waiting for all morning. The sender had requested proof that you were wearing his last minute gift, and you were happy to oblige with the lewd photo. Finally seeing his simple praise for your efforts makes you grin from ear to ear, as you enter the front door to your workplace’s building. The message will be enough to get you through the day, high on the thought of his praise while his present is wrapped tightly around your ribs. Though the garment may be confining, you’ll endure anything to receive those two simple words.

Reluctantly glancing up from your phone you look ahead to see the elevator closing.

“Hold the door!” You call out, making a run for it. Mercifully the gap between the doors widens allowing you to climb in before it begins the long haul up. Glancing over to your savoir, you find your secretary standing at the panel. “Thanks Jimin.”

“No problem,” he responds with a warm smile. “What floor do you need?” Joking as he pushes the button labelled 14. 

You playfully shove his arm while trying to catch your breath. Had he left you down on the first floor there's no telling how long it would be before the elevator returned. The building in which you work has been down to one lift for a couple days, with no promise of when the other will be fixed. It’s not a surprise really, ever since you moved into this complex three years ago you’ve been plagued with breakdowns and shotty utilities. Considering how opulent  the tower is, with it’s gilded elevators and halls adorned in finery you expected better, but people often overlook flaws when they have something pleasant to stare at. Allowing the management to slack on some of the failings of the structure. 

“Do you think you could send maintenance another message?” You ask your hand clutching your waist to comfort the stitch in your side, no doubt a result of the corset concealed beneath your clothes. 

“Consider it done.” Jimin replies, pulling out his phone. “Are you okay Miss?” He asks, your heavy breathing failing to go unnoticed judging from the concern in his voice.

“Fine.” You quickly change the subject, not wanting to linger on your current state. “What’s on my schedule for today?”

“You have a consultation with Mr. Kim of HOC Industries in an hour-” 

“Really?” You cut in, confused about the sudden change. “But I just saw him a few weeks ago. Why is he coming in?”

“He didn’t say, I just got a message last night from him stating he required an appointment immediately.”

“That’s not a good sign...” You groan, wondering what information had dropped to spur a need for such an urgent response. 

“Afterwards you have an early lunch with journalist Min. Followed by a one o’clock appointment with Jeon Jungkook to go over the new web layout. And the rest of office hours are slated as admin.” 

You cringe over the prospect of bookkeeping. Your accountant’s involvement in a recent accident, placed him on an extended leave of absence. Since you are the only other member of your small staff qualified to balance the books, this leaves you burdened with his duties. “Remind me later to make a posting for a temp position.”

“Noted,” Jimin remarks as he continues to scroll through his phone. “Oh and don’t forget, you also have your monthly massage appointment with Kim Namjoon tonight.”

You smile at the thought, you would never forget a booking with him, especially since he’s the reason for your current state of breathlessness. You’ve been counting down the days until you get to see him, with only a few hours left you can barely contain yourself. To everyone who asks he’s a masseur, but the services he provides are far more aggressively intimate than a standard massage. You force a small cough to cover the involuntary moan starting to escape. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, just tired. I didn’t sleep well last night.” It’s not a complete lie, with the stress from work there have been a lot of restless nights recently, your appointment tonight should help to relieve a bit of that tension. There’s a loud groan as the elevator comes to a stop at your floor. You look up to the top of the lift and over to Jimin with worry, both of you stepping off with haste once the doors open.

Your entire office space consists of only a few rooms. You and Hoseok had started this company only a few years ago, focusing on corporate consultations regarding public image and approval. All things considered you’re doing rather well. With your negotiation tactics, Hoseok's philanthropy efforts, and Yoongi on retainer as your media source, you’ve been able to take on several giant corporations.    

As you walk down the hall you find the temperature starting to rise, and upon stepping into your’s and Jimin’s shared office, you’re hit with a wave of heat. You whisper your curses as you check the thermostat which has been jacked to its highest setting and refuses to shift back down. 

Giving up on the system you turn to the windows, but even those are a struggle after being neglected for so long. You call out to Jimin for assistance, waiting no more than a second before he is by your side. But even with his help you only manage to open them to the grand extent of a sliver before you’re forced to give in. At least with your office door open there’s now a small draft pervading the space.

“I guess I’ll send maintenance another message,” Jimin chuckles.

“You don’t think he’s trying to push us out do you?” You inquire about the building owner, and one of your own clients. You don’t usually make such bold claims, but with Jimin’s ties to the dubious man, it’s hard not to ask.

“I wouldn’t put it past him. Though I think this is more likely due to his lack of regard for the workmanship going into his properties.”

You nod overlooking the now stuffy room which holds both your desks. It serves its purpose with a sufficient amount of daylight from the large windows, and a partial wall giving you each a bit of privacy. You’d rather not have to leave this building and the status that comes with it, but there seems to be no end with these faulty appliances. “So much for being the height of sophistication.”

While you settle into your workspace you’re already dying from the heat, a sweater and camisole overtop your corset was not the best choice for today, but you didn’t want to risk anyone noticing the garment beneath. As you shuffling through your newsite tabs Jimin readies the coffee maker, returning to you with the first dose of your daily caffeine needs. 

“You’re a saint.”

Jimin smiles brightly at your compliment, living for the praise as always. “Do you want some ice on the side?” He laughs as you tug on your sweater to stop it from sticking to your skin.

“Only if I can rub it all over.” You sigh jokingly as you take a sip of the hot beverage.

“I’d be happy to assist.” His smirk and piercing gaze look to be downright serious, his flirtation hitting a new high today.    

“Sorry Jimin, I already have a massage appointment later. I think Namjoon would be very upset if you took his job from him.”

“That’s too bad.” He mutters, his lip still curled into a smile before stepping away from your desk. “Let me know if you change your mind. I’d be more than willing to compensate him for his loss.” Jimin has never been shy about his attraction to you, a desire which you most certainly reciprocate, but your own company policies keep the both of you tied to flirtatious word play. With Jimin winning more often than not when it comes to provocative sentiments.

He hangs around on your side of the room, straightening the chairs and stray flies, while you continue your search for whatever prompted the need for your haste meeting. At last you find it, on the featured articles of a prominent celeb news site, with the headline reading, ‘The Dark Desires of the Kim Family Heir.’

Much to your chagrin the issue isn’t regarding your client, but his son. As much as you try to stay out of personal family matters, sometimes they are unavoidable, and this looks to be one of those cases.

‘Kim Taehyung has long been considered one of the most eligible bachelors. He has it all, money, power, and a spot on every top ten most attractive list, but those who have been with him more intimately say he craves something more...’ 

Your mouth falls open in horror as one of Taehyung's former partners exposes their most intimate moments with him. ‘The Gucci suits and custom cologne are just an expensive mask for the darkness beneath. He would ask to be tied, bound to the bed and struck. He wanted pain and pleasure...’ The further you read the more your chest tightens. You’d rather not jump to conclusions, but you wouldn’t be surprised if it’s true. A fact which must make it all the more painful for Taehyung. You can only imagine what he must be going through, to have such private details exposed and exploited. He’s currently living your worst nightmare, a societal judgement over one's deepest desires. For professional reasons it would probably be best to stay out of this private matter, but you can’t in good consciousness let him suffer alone.

“That bad?” Jimin asks.

“Yeah...” You cover your mouth to hide your shuddering breath, blinking away the tears that threaten to spill on Taehyung's behalf.

Jimin shuffles in behind your desk with you. By lowering himself to read off your screen, his face falls next to yours. His hands come to rest on your shoulders as he leans in to eye the article in question. You should shoo him away, but you can’t help but be curious of his response to those who engage in such practices. As his eyes scan the page his grip on you tightens, his breathing erratic just like yours, with a whispered “‘Fuck,” escaping his lips. 

“Are we interrupting something?” A voice calls out from your open door. 

Your head snaps over in shock to find your next appointment waiting for you, with his son in tow. You jump up pushing Jimin back so you can greet your guests properly. “Mr. Kim! No not at all,  please come in. This must be-”

“Taehyung...” The younger man mutters as he walks in, slumping down in one of the chairs in front of your desk. His sunglasses are still in place, the smell of spirits wafts over you along with the spicy scent of what must be his referenced cologne. He’s a sight to behold, a person of his caliber could make a fortune off his looks alone; he wouldn’t even need a drop of his father's fortune. But of course, that would have been before this public outing of his bedroom tendencies. Now he’s more likely to be seen as a pariah rather than an asset.

Directing the elder to the seat next to him, you take your own once again as Jimin retreats to his desk. You don’t even have the chance to exchange pleasantries before Mr. Kim launches into the purpose of their visit. “I assume you saw the article about my son?”

“I did, but-”

“And? What can we do about it? How can we spin it? Our stocks have already taken a hit.”

“Your son just had a serious breach in personal privacy...” You pause hoping that he’ll have some semblance of a realization that he is not the victim here, instead he simply waits for you to continue. Attempt to hold in your dismay, you give him the only answer you can, “Sue for defamation if you’d like, but whether they are printing fact or fiction the damage is done. The press is still focusing on your family due to your early misdealings in your company. I would argue that if you turn the view of operations around then there is a very good chance that the media will start to back off personal affairs.”

“You can’t expect me to twiddle my thumbs and wait. My shareholders are currently questioning his ability to lead, they might seek to replace him.”

“Good.” Taehyung mutters. “If those prudes have a problem with me, I’d rather not have to work with them.”

You bite your lip to conceal a snort of laughter.  Mr. Kim fails to notice but his son seems to have caught your slip, taking off his glasses, he pierces you with a strong gaze.

Kim senior starts up again looking for sympathy and a way out, “Do you know how many of his flings I’ve had to pay off in the past-”

“Maybe you should just stick to your own business.” Taehyung eyes his father darkly.

“They made it my business when they started squealing to the press about what kind of man you are.”

You try to rein the situation in, this battle between father and son having no place in your office. “Mr. Kim! I would actually like to speak to your son for a moment. We can see if there’s a possible remedy for this... exposure.” You stand up, calling over the wall for your secretary "Jimin? Would you mind taking Mr. Kim to see Hoseok?” You turn back to your elder client, practically pushing him out the door into your secretaries’s care. “Jung Hoseok has been continuing his work on your company's philanthropic efforts. I’m sure he would love to show you what he has done with your portfolio.”

“Do you need me to come right back Miss?” Jimin asks with a pleading stare, his eyes flicker over to the young man still slumped in his seat.

“No I think we’ll be okay for a bit.” You mutter to him quietly as Mr. Kim proceeds down the hall. “Just keep him away for a few minutes.”

Once they're both gone you sit back down across from Taehyung with a sigh.

“So are your going to talk some sense into me?” He drawls with disdain.

“Fuck no,” you scoff, rummaging through your drawer. “Can I get you anything coffee, water... advil?”  You finally pull out the bottle of pain relievers and offer one to him as you take one yourself, your head ready to explode in frustration over his father. 

He tilts his head looking somewhat surprised, “So why did you send him away then?”

“I thought you could use a break. I’ve worked with many people like your father, they all want things done their way, and you’ll never be able to tell them otherwise. He’ll never admit to his faults, and the fact that he’s the real reason the media is all over you. So as long as you don’t tattle on me, we both can make it through this meeting with him thinking that he’s won.”

“Deal,” Taehyung agrees while he chuckles at your ploy. 

“Are you sure you don’t want anything?” You offer once again.

“Actually I’ll take some advil.”

“I thought you might.” You poor him glass from the cooler and offer up the pill. When his sleeve pulls back to reach for the cup you can’t help but notice the glaring red evidence of a rope abrasion on his wrist. While he throws back the pain killer, you take another sip of your coffee rolling the bitterness over your tongue before breaching the difficult subject. “It can’t be easy to have the press prying into every aspect of your private life.”

“It’s not so much that they pry, but...” Taehyung hesitates, his brow furrows as his fingers run through his hair tugging on the strands between his fingers.  “People know that they can go to them with a story and make money off any relations I have with them. And the press will gladly pay top dollar for what they have to offer.”

“The story is not a complete fabrication then?” You already know it’s not judging from his father's response and the marks on his arm, you just need to hear him say it. 

“No, it’s mostly true.” He admits, watching your reaction.

“Then it would seem that your desires might be thought unconventional by many of your past partners?”

Taehyung nods, taking another sip of his water. 

“From one unconventional individual to another,” you pause waiting for your own admission to sink in. To your delight Taehyung immediately perks up listening attentively as you continue. “There are more discreet ways to fill those needs.”

“Are you offering?” He asks, raising a brown along with the corner of his lips.

“No, I doubt that I would be very good at meeting your cravings, since we both hunger the same type of... attention.” You smile back at him, rejoicing in your mutual secret. “But I do have a friend who will take very good care of you. I’m going to give you a name and phone number, it’s up to you if you want to contact them, but I can assure you any conversations or actions between you and them will be kept strictly confidential. It’s not cheap,” you explain, but doubt that’ll be a problem for him. “But I assure you it’s safe and private.”

Taehyung can barely get the information from you fast enough once you jot it down. His hands, reaching for the sheet, accidentally knock over your coffee instead, sending the drink in your direction and staining your sweater. “I’m so sorry, here let me help you.” Taehyung jumps up and runs and grabs napkins from the coffee station. 

“It’s fine really.” You assure him, making an attempt to stop him as he starts to blot the saturated material. 

Unfortunately it’s at this moment that Jimin walks in to see your precarious state. He stands there for a moment in silence before explaining the reason for his return. “Mr. Kim said he needs to leave soon, Miss. He wanted to see if you two were... finished.” There’s glare set in his eyes for Taehyung's forwardness.

“Yeah, be right there, just one second.” You turn back to Taehyung, exchanging the damp napkin in his hand for the paper you had just written on. “Think about it, I hope you’ll give him a call. I don’t give out his information unless I think it will be of help to someone.”

“Kim Namjoon,” Taehyung mutters quietly while reading the slip. “If I were to go see him, would I find you there too?” He looks back up at you, biting his lip after posing his query.

“Likely not, he keeps his sessions very private, but you can always discuss your...” You glance over to Jimin who is still waiting, and well within earshot. “Preferences with him.”

“Then I’ll consider it, thank you.”

After seeing Mr. Kim and his son off, you're left to deal with the stain on your sweater, with only fifteen minutes before you have to leave for your lunch appointment. “Jimin could you call Yoongi and let him know I’m running a little late? I need to stop by my apartment on the way.”

“No need, I’ve got an extra shirt here.” He pulls out one of his own from his desk. “ I know it’s a men’s fit, but I think we can make it work.” 

“Why do you keep that here?” You laugh. He only looks at you and the stain with a raised brow, no words needed to prove his point. “Never mind, stupid question, but I can’t take your shirt Jimin.”

“I insist, go put it on.” He forces it into your hands as you double check your watch, your time constraints leaving you with little choice. 

Stepping behind the dividing wall, you strip down to your camisole, breathing a sigh of relief that the beverage hadn’t seeped into the fabric of the corset. Quickly throwing his button up over top and tucking it in, you check to ensure your intimate garment is still hidden relatively beneath the shirt before coming back out for his opinion “Does it look okay?”

Jimin nods, but when he reaches out to touch the shirt you recoil, fearing that he will discover what you wear beneath. He chuckles and persists, “I’m just fixing your collar.” He moves in closer standing just a couple inches away. Pinching the two seams of the fabric together, he considers the change. “I think it would look better like this.” You nod, keeping silent as he follows through. Pulling the fabric tight around your throat, your breathing is forced to pause for a moment as he fastens the top button. “Better?” He asks, while his hands linger around your neck.

“Much.” You whisper, as his fingers drift up to hold your chin, with the tip of his thumb dragging along the edge of your bottom lip. You stand there confused as to why your flirtatious game has taken such a physical turn. Although his actions are prohibited and should be censured, you can’t fully condemn them, deciding instead to remove yourself, rather than reprimand him. “I-I should go. I don’t want to be late meeting Yoongi.”  

...

It was a productive lunch to say the least, but that was by no means thanks to you. Your focus was distinctly elsewhere. While you toyed with your bottom lip, thinking of how Jimin had touched it just moments before, Yoongi gave you everything you needed to secure several new clients. Even now as you return, disembarking the elevator on to your floor, you still can’t concentrate on the day ahead.

On the walk back to your office Hoseok catches you, quickly pulling you into his own and closing the door behind. “You need to do something about Jimin.” 

“Wh-what do you mean?” You ask, nervous that he had seen you two together before you left for your meeting.

“Your client earlier, Mr. Kim, he said that he caught you two acting rather close, making suggestions that you two are involved in a sexual relationship. Usually I would disregard a comment like his but-” 

“It’s not true, you know I wouldn’t!” As much as you might want to act on Jimin’s advances you’ve never crossed that line. You know it must have been bad for Hoseok to bring it up, for him to take this serious tone is evidence of his deep concern. 

“I know that, but this isn’t the first time someone has thought you two might be a little too intimate. Some of the staff have also considered the notion. And I can see why, the way he looks at you, talks to you...” Hoseok trails off as his eyes linger on your apparel in confusion. “You weren’t wearing that earlier were you?” 

“No, I had some coffee spill on me earlier. Jimin was nice enough to loan me his.”

Hoseok tilts his head as he raises his brow as if this validates his concerns.

“He was just being helpful!” You offer, but Hoseok doesn’t look to be swayed, and he’s right, this is a workplace not a morning after situation. “Fine, I see your point. So what do you suggest?”

“Redistribute him, send him my way if you have to, god knows that I could use the extra hand. You could even play it off as a promotion, just get him out of your office.” Your heart drops at the thought, not wanting to give him up. Hoseok seeing this takes a softer tone. “Listen I can see that you like him too. I’m sure it feels good to have his attention, but you need to get this out of your system. You have to put a stop to it. We can’t afford a scandal and you know it.” 

With the assurance that you’ll think on the issue, and giving Hoseok your solution by tomorrow, you return to your office. But the problem is far from easy, though you did not lie about your physical relationship to Hoseok, you have been keeping something from him. From all of them. Jimin will never accept a promotion if it takes him away from you. He’s never worked here for the money, he doesn’t need to when his father owns half of the city, this building included. 

...

-3 years ago-

“Mr. Lee, thank you so much for agreeing to meet with me.” You pull out the chair to sit across from him. The massive mahogany desk of his placing a rather large distance between the two of you. 

“Yes well, my building manager said you were very persistent.” There’s a small roll in his eyes as he looks from you down to the computer in front of him. 

“I wanted to discuss one of your properties, an office space in the Madeline Suites.”

He takes a swift glance at your modest appearance with narrowing eyes. “Forgive me, but I believe that location might be out of your price range.” 

“Monetarily yes,” You agree. “But we offer services which might be helpful to you.”

“I do not deal in favours. I can see that this meeting was a waste of time, you may go.” He waves the back of his hand to shoo you out, while his secretary grabs the door from the outside.

“I am not asking for a favour, but offering you my services. I’m the co-founder of a corporate image consulting firm. And come this time tomorrow, I believe you’ll be looking for someone within our realm of dealings.”

“And what makes you say that?” Lee asks, his words laced with cynicism. 

You lay out the first page of the article which Yoongi had sent you, stretching it across the wooden surface to place it in Mr. Lee’s view. ‘Real Estate Developer Lee Gungsang Faced Prior Allegations of Unlawful Evictions and Price Hiking.’ “This is slated for tomorrow morning’s front page.” 

Mr. Lee is quick to send his secretary off, the door shutting once again. “How do you know about this? These cases were settled before they made it anywhere near the courts.”

“I have my sources.” 

“Then stop this! I will pay whomever needs to be paid to prevent this from leaching out. You want the office space, it's yours.” He’s voice is desperate, you have him on the hook, the question now is, how long will he let you drag him for?

“That’s very generous of you, but nothing will stop this from going out tomorrow. My offer is simply to help you get ahead of it and lessen the damage.” You explain, revelling in the fact that money can’t hide everything.

“And how do you propose to do that?”

You pull out a contract for your serves. “I will need you to sign off on my services first. A small fee plus a far more reasonable price for a three year lease of the offices on the 14th floor of the Madeline Suites”

“Without knowing your plan, I think not.”

You give him a bright smile before mimicking his earlier statement. “I do not deal in favours Mr. Lee.”

He grumbles while taking the pen, eyeing you with a dark gaze as he signs on the dotted line.

With the ink still drying you hand over another small document. “Here are a few of my suggestions. Twenty percent of the commercial residences that you have just vacated will be handed over to non-profits for a drastically reduced monthly lease. I’ll even let you pick which you want to support.” 

He looks up at you mortified. “This is excessive.”

“No this is necessary. I’ve seen corporations do far more than this when they are not dealing with a scandal. Your accountants will agree with me that this is the best move, it can be seen as a donation and therefore tax deductible. For the evicted  private residences, I was thinking of partnering with a refugee resettlement program but we can discuss that more in depth later.” 

You carefully tuck away your contract in Lee’s file before dragging another concern to the forefront. “I do have one more request, before I leave today.”

“What more could you possibly want?” He scoffs.

You lean in to deliver your short but important demand. “A heads up.”

“I don’t know what you mean...”

“I mean if there are any other past dealings or actions which might impact your company I need to be aware of them.” There’s always more hidden in the dark, you have one of those secrets on hand now. You need to see if he’s willing to be upfront with you on every dealing of his past, otherwise you might be forced to dig him out from another grave a couple weeks from now. 

“There’s nothing else.” 

“Nothing?” You ask again as you pull out your phone ready to bring forward more evidence. 

“No.”

“So the knowledge of you having and hiding an illegitimate son... you don’t think that’s important? The existence of the only child of the Lee empire, isn’t newsworthy?”

“How did you-” The terror in his face looks to be even greater than the prior accusation. 

“You attempted to evict all of the residents who stayed in your residential apartment for over 10 years if they refused to agree with a massive lease hike. Park Jimin was the only one who wasn’t touched. He has no record of a job, living off what must be money given to him by his parents, so I looked into them. His father wasn’t listed but his late mother, Park Haesoon, used to work for your company, and 22 years ago she signed a NDA issued by your lawyer.” 

You open to Jimin’s public instagram page turning it around for his father to see. “He may take mostly after his mother, but I can still see a few clues to your family resemblance.”

“When does this one drop?” Lee asks in dismay.

“It’s not going to, at least, not from me or my source. We try not to deal in personal life consulting, but I am going to give you some advice in this matter. Get ahead of it.”

“My wife won’t hear of it.” Mr. Lee mutters through clenched teeth, it’s easy to see that this conversation has him very much on edge.

You nod seeing the crux of his dilemma. “I looked into the approximate date of his conception, you were newly married at the time, were you not?”

“Yes. She knows, but her family does not, they have a large political presence and we cannot afford to lose all support from them. Trust me, the boy is not worth the risk.”

“He’s your child!” You berate the CEO, your anger getting the better of you as you think of the emotional toll on Jimin. Not only did he lose his mother but his father won't even publicly acknowledge him. 

“I won’t be swayed on this matter. If you have nothing else to say you may leave.” Mr. Lee rises from his desk and once again gestures towards the door. “I’ll have keys to your new office space delivered to you tomorrow along with the lease. But I should warn you, if there is even a whisper of his name in public in conjunction with mine, I can assure you, your so-called firm won’t last another week.”

...

Less than a month later you and Hoseok have moved your entire enterprise to the new office space. You’re holding an open house for several different staff positions, when the most unlikely of applicants walks in your door, Park Jimin. 

He hands you a piece of paper which you can only guess is his resume, because your eyes fail to leave his face, your mouth unable to form words in your state of shock. Closing the door behind him, he gives you a nervous smile. “Judging from your expression, I take it you know who I am?”

You manage a single nod, still confused as to why he’s here, now, with you. It’s lucky you’re conducting the interviews alone, otherwise it would be difficult to explain your shock to Hoseok without exposing Jimin’s lineage. 

“I’ve been wanting to meet with you,” Jimin confesses, adding sheepishly, “My father told me of your meeting. He said you took a bit of an interest in me, even found my social media accounts.” 

“Oh, oh no.” You finally manage to sputter out, far more anxious with the younger man than his father. You never intended to meet Jimin, let alone have him find out you dug into some very personal aspects of his past and present. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t intend to invade your privacy. I was only trying to figure out what was going on. And when I learned the truth, I wanted him to own up to his mistake of hiding you.”

Jimin chuckles lightly, sitting down in front of you, “I didn’t come here looking for an apology Miss, I know why you did it. I merely wanted to meet one of the few people to ever successfully scare the shit out of my father.” 

The wide beaming smile accompanying his statement spurs a laugh from you, while also allowing you to relax in his presence. “Sometimes you have to intimidate these people to get them to do the right thing. But I’m sorry I wasn’t able to convince him to go public regarding everything.”

“That’s not your fault. In the end it was just nice to hear that there's someone who thinks I deserve better.” Jimin adds, with a look of sorrow leaching into his smile.

“Of course you do, but I must ask, why come here now?” You take a moment to confirm that it is in fact his resume that he’s handed you. ”I can’t imagine that you need a job.” He’s appearance alone is enough to tell you he’s buried in wealth, though his father has not given him the family name, it looks as if Jimin has gained some of the assets.  

“Actually that’s exactly what I was looking for.”

“Your father didn’t pressure you to come here to keep an eye on me did he?” You ask with scepticism. Keeping watch over possible threats wouldn’t be a completely off brand for those of his status. And with you knowing some of his deepest secrets you could likely be considered one of the biggest risks.

“No.” Jimin chuckles, briefly raising his hands in surrender. “I promise I’m here of my own volition. Money isn’t my biggest concern, I’ve been hoping to build connections. I want to use my time wisely and work with someone who is worthy of my focus, and that just so happens to be you.” He finishes with a suggestive smirk, making you wonder if you’ve won his affection too. 

“And what does your focus get me?” You ask, trying to weigh the benefits versus the risk. You doubt that Mr. Lee will respond kindly to you hiring his son, but if he continues to deny his son’s  existence then what right does he have to disagree? 

“Anything you require. I was interested in the posting for your secretary, but any position beneath you would suit me nicely.” 

...

There’s no way you’ll be able to convince Jimin to willingly change roles and work for Hoseok instead. But you can’t deny that your co-founder’s points are valid. 

Jimin greets you warmly as you enter your office. “Did you have a nice lunch?” 

“Yeah, it was good.” You respond, forcing out a smile.

“Really? Because you look upset.” 

You curse Jimin’s ability to read you at a time like this. “I promise, lunch was fine. Yoongi gave me some substantial leads.” You sigh sliding back in your seat. With your values shaken and morals questioned by Hoseok, you are deeply in need of someone to brace yourself on. Wanting to step out of the realm of responsibility and control even if it’s just for a moment, you make a request to Jimin. “Would you go fetch Jungkook for our meeting?”

“I can just call him in.” He makes the case looking reluctant to leave your side.

“Please Jimin just go get him. I need a few minutes for a personal call.”

Jimin looks at you crestfallen before finally leaving. It’s not often you keep things from him, he can scope you out too well for that. But Kim Namjoon’s actual role in your life is the one secret you feel is the most imperative to hide from him.

You pull out your cell, not wanting to use his number on your work phone. After two rings he picks up. “Couldn’t wait a few more hours to hear my voice baby girl?”

You're too embarrassed to admit he’s right, settling on another excuse for your call. “N-no I just wanted to let you know that I’ve sent someone your way... sir.”

“Don’t lie to me I can hear the need in your voice.” He chuckles lightly as he taunts you. “Your reference already reached out to me. I’m excited to play with him, is he just as handsome as he sounds?”

“More so.”

Namjoon hums on the line in gratification. “My babygirl, giving me another pet to play with.” 

You blush from the praise. Taehyung makes the sixth person you’ve suggested following the charity ball you met Namjoon at a couple years ago. Where he, much like you, was secretly scoping out potential clients. Every one of those patrons you’ve given him since then has been his pet, but you, you’re his babygirl. 

“I was wondering...” Namjoon’s carries on, in a tone far more hesitant than usual. “Tonight would you be willing to try something a little unconventional? Would you like to share him?”

“W-would that be okay?” He’s never suggested adding another to your sessions before, but you can’t deny you’re intrigued by the prospect.

“He mentioned an interest in you, and after discussing his needs I feel that I require someone other than myself to pin his desires on. You’ll be the carrot while I’ll be the stick. Do you think you could do that for me?”  Namjoon proposes in a low purr dragging every heated thought and possibility to the forefront of your mind.  

“Yes sir.” Your response is instant, with little thought required. Helping Namjoon with Taehyung? You’d be a fool to turn down the opportunity. There’s a small knock on your office door with the return of Jimin and Jungkook trailing behind him. You start to panic while still on the phone with Namjoon. “I’ll see you later then?”

Namjoon can of course detect the change in your tone, but instead of letting you off the hook he pulls you further. “Did someone walk in on you babygirl? I take it they don’t know about this side of you?”

“No they don’t.”

“No sir.” He calls out your lack of decorum, an error which you know you’ll pay for later. “Such a shame they’re missing out. What do you think they would say if they knew of my plans for you tonight? How I intend to hang you like forbidden fruit above another man. Do you think they would approve?” 

Your eyes widen as Namjoon continues and Jungkook takes the seat in front of you with Jimin standing behind him. You clear your throat and hold up your finger to them, gesturing for another minute. Turning away to hide your face as you continue to try and end the call. But hanging up on one’s dom is never advisable, condemning you to listen for as long as he wishes to torment. 

“I bet you would like them watch, wouldn’t you?” Namjoon asks, egging on your sinful thoughts, transferring them from Taehyung over to your co-workers.

You shift your thighs trying to dispel the building need as you consider the notation of them watching. Imagining Jungkook’s wide eyes taking in the sight, likely with a hand on his cock, he’s an innocent man with strong desires. You’ve known others like him before, they act with naivete but when confronted with an opportunity for more, they don’t hesitate to gorge on what is presented to them.

And Jimin, would he accept your darker needs? You wish he would, desperately wanting him to play along, to help mould you into submission. Your head now filled with thoughts of kneeling before him taking him in your mouth while he christens you a good girl. If only you could be sure that he wouldn’t react like most people, like those who condemned Taehyung. Your eyes flutter back over to your secretary who is looking at you with deep suspicion. You desperately need to end the call or risk giving yourself away. “I should probably-”

“Am I embarrassing you baby girl?” Namjoon teases with an amused laugh. “Does that mean I’m right?”

“Yes...”

“Yes sir.” Namjoon reminds you once again. “I’ll release you for now, but I better see you here at seven o’clock sharp. Is that understood?”

You breathe a sigh of relief at the release.  “Yes sir.” After finally hanging up, you offer up an apology. “Sorry about that.”

“Who was it?” Jimin inquires with a soft tone, but  a quick lick to his lips shows his intentions to be far from innocent. His clenched fists and hovering nature further pointing towards jealousy.

“No one important.” You smile through the lie, careful in your attempt to comfort him. It’s pointless to keep acting in this way, but you still can’t bear the thought of disheartening his feelings or pushing him away. 

...

After your meeting with Jungkook, you're left with a stack of paperwork and your ever persistent lack of concentration as you try to figure out what can be done with Jimin. Should you just tell him the issue, would it help or would it make the situation worse? If he knows how he is perceived then will the affection stop, and if it does, will you struggle with that loss?

“Can I walk you to your car Miss?” Jimin asks with his jacket in hand. You check the time, reading just after five. So lost in thought you had accomplished almost nothing in the last few hours of the day.

“I think I might just stay here until I have to leave for my appointment, I still have a bit more work to do.” You explain rubbing your hands over your face as you pull yourself from your daze.

“Do you want me to stay too then?” 

“No, I couldn’t ask that of you. But before you go I’d like to discuss something” You gesture to the seat across from you which he takes with hesitation. You’re usually not so formal and he can clearly spot the difference. You open your mouth and pause trying to find the right words as his eyes shine in your direction. The evening sun pouring into the room bathing his skin in with golden light makes it so much harder to stick to the issue at hand. You eventually resort to staring at the irrelevant papers on your desk as you open with your concern. 

“I’m worried that our actions towards each other imply that our relationship is not strictly professional.” You blurt it out quickly, hating every word that crosses your lips.

“Have I been making you uncomfortable Miss?” Jimin’s expression falls along with his question, the heartbreak ringing out clear in his voice. 

“No, no. It’s just, I’m concerned about how others see our interactions.”

“Oh, so someone said something to you then?” 

“Hoseok mentioned that a few people think we appear to be a bit more than boss and secretary.” You know it cowardly to bring Hoseok into this, but the information is second hand. You can’t be sure what others have said exactly.

“Well you do know more about me than most.” Jimin laughs lightly. 

“That’s not what they are implying. They think we are engaged in a sexual relationship.”

“And...” He draws the word out as if the implication is nothing, implying there should be a better reason for your concerns. 

“We aren’t Jimin!”

“Well, there's only one way to fix that.” He stands up leaning towards you over your desk. “You can’t say you haven’t thought about it. We could keep it a secret if you’d like, no one has to know.”

You doubt Jimin could keep a relationship between the two of you hidden, with the way he dotes on you already, you’re one passionate night away from finding three dozen roses on your desk. “Someone would find out, and the fall out-”

“Fuck the fall out,” Jimin states with resolve, reaching out his fingers tucking back a strand of your hair before curling beneath your chin. “I’m tired of this charade. Hoseok only said something because he’s jealous. He’s jealous that you want me as much as I want you.”

“Jimin,” You whisper. “Even if that was the case, that still doesn’t make it right.” You pull back from his touch. “You should go. Think about what I said, because if we can’t maintain at least some level of restraint and professionalism... then you might be better off working for someone else in the office.”

“So you’d rather keep your social image than be happy with me?” Jimin accuses, the usual warmth having completely vanished from his face.

“It’s not like that. My standing is my life, it’s my career, any blemish would destroy everything I have.” You attempt to express the fear inside you, the weight that bears on you every day. You already have so many secrets and liabilities, but one as close and extensive as a relationship with him might finally crush you and everything you’ve built. “I like you, I really do, but I can’t take the risk. You have to understand, I’m not like you. I don’t have a secret trust fund to fall back on.”  

Jimin looks as though you’ve stabbed him, pulling away he heads to the exit. “I’m sorry I’m not worth the risk. You know, I thought you were better than that, but it would seem you’re just like everyone else.” 

The door slamming between you echoes through the office as you sag in your chair. Never in all your years have you ever sunk so low. By taking him on you wanted to ensure Jimin’s happiness, to show him his value despite the lack of acknowledgement  from his father, but now it seems you’ve fallen into the same role as those who have hurt him before.

  ...

You type your code into Namjoon’s door, stepping into his hall quickly and shutting the door behind you. It’s just before seven and usually you find him in his living room already waiting, but today it’s empty. Not wanting to disturb him, you take a seat on the couch and wait patiently for him to join you. 

You feel ready to fold in on yourself as you continue to dwell on your argument with Jimin. If you laid out boundaries earlier you likely wouldn’t be where you are now. Hating yourself over his confession, and your inability to accept it. 

There’s movement from the bedroom door as Namjoon’s partner Seokjin comes out to greet you. You look up in bewilderment as he takes your hand, pulling you off the couch. “Namjoon has already started with the other client, so he sent me to fetch you.” 

You nod understanding Namjoon’s divergence from the norm, it wouldn’t be safe practice for him to leave Taehyung alone in a precarious position. Now looking to the door with curiosity, you’re excited by what lustful visions will greet you on the other side. But when Seokjin presents something to you it’s clear that you won’t get to see those sights.

“You’ve been asked to wear this.” He holds out a wide silken strip, one that Namjoon has used as a blindfold in the past. You allow Seokjin to cover your eyes, with a touch far more gentle than you know Namjoon’s to be. You don’t want kindness, craving instead to be broken in by the man in the other room, especially after the damage you’ve done today. The loss of your vision will have to be punishment enough for the time being. 

“Does he want me to undress too?” You ask, touching the silk over your eyes, you're completely blind and already longing for the next step. 

“No he wishes to save that pleasure for himself.”

You smirk thinking he might, you’ve been wearing his gift all day it’s only right that he gets to see it first.  

There’s a knock and a click of the door before Seokjin takes you in hand again, leading you in. The air is warmer and heavier than that of the living room, making it impossible to draw a fresh breath. 

Seokjin pushes down on your shoulder, a wordless order to kneel. The plush carpet meeting your knees as you lower yourself, if only you could reach out to get a better sense of what’s in front of you, but form dictates that you keep your hands on your lap. 

The bedroom door closes, signalling Seokjin's departure. Sending one last wave of clean air before you're smothered once again. Locked away for the night with your master and his new pet. There’s a small creek from the mattress and the familiar rattle of restraints against the bedpost. You can just barely make out the tone of Namjoon’s low whisper as he speaks to the current tenant of the bed. 

Footsteps land to your left, muffled by the wall to wall but still sending vibrations through the floor.  As Namjoon approaches, your heart pounds wondering what his first move against you will be. He takes his sweet time letting the anticipation build as your chest continues to heave in its attempts to take in the thick air. You keep your posture, maintaining your stance with the knowledge that he will inspect you. Head lowered, hands on thighs, perched on your toes as your knees dig into the ground. Your legs soon start to tremble as your feet strain to bear the weight.

Namjoon settles right in front of you, the slow draw of his breath reaches your ears, while the heat of his exhale hits your face. A hand trails up the outside of your thigh stilling the tremor in your legs with a forceful grip. You freeze wondering if your jitters will cost you, you can’t let him find fault not if you want him to reward you with his presence. 

But as he takes your chin tightly between his index and his thumb, you know you're in the clear. He tilts your head up as you breathe a sigh of relief. “Such a good girl, setting the perfect example.” His fingers slide down petting the column of your throat with a firm touch. “I was so happy to receive your picture this morning, did you wear the gift all day as ordered?”

“Yes sir.” You pant back, eager for him to see for himself. 

“It wasn’t too hard for you then, to go so long in such a confined state?”

“No sir.”

“Good girl,” He purrs in your ear as he starts unfastening your shirt. He hesitates on the buttons for a moment. “Babygirl, would you care to tell me why you're wearing a men’s shirt?”

You swallow not wanting to admit that it’s the fault of the man currently lying in his bed. You plan to take the fall, wanting Namjoon’s undivided attention even if it’s in the form of a punishment. “I spilled something on mine sir.”  

“So clumsy.” He has the shirt completely off now revealing the corset for him and likely Taehyung to see. Namjoon helps you to stand, unzipping your skirt he pushes it to the floor. You feel so helpless without your sight but Namjoon doesn’t seem to mind assisting. He uses the soft fabric of the shirt to dab at the sweat beading on your skin. “Who, may I ask, clothed you in theirs? Such an expensive label, he must think highly of you.”

You shift in place, made uncomfortable by your inability to answer. Knowing if you say his name thoughts of him will be summoned to your mind. You don’t deserve to think of him at such a time, not after you led him on and left him dry.

“You don’t wish to tell me?” The feel of Namjoon’s breath leaves you, the sounds of his feet  indicating he’s moved to the right of you. Heading to a space you know to be occupied by a table and closet full of his tools. There’s a scrap of metal and what sounds like the jingle of buckles. 

“No sir.”

“And why is that?” Fingers trail up your arm as Namjoon signals his return to your side. 

“Because I’m not allowed to have him sir.”

“A noble response.” Namjoon reasons while he wraps the leather strap of a familiar collar around your neck. “But I still plan to get that name from you before we’re done.” He buckles it swiftly checking the tightness with two fingers. You thought him finished but he progresses to cuff your wrists in leather too, tethering them together in front of you. 

He leans in again with a hushed request, “Still know your safe word?” You nod repeating is back to him before he leads you on towards the bed. 

Namjoon stands behind you as he presents you to his new pet. When you gave Taehyung Namjoon’s number you hadn’t been expecting this but you can’t deny enjoying the prospect. But you find the silence and lack of reaction from him unnerving. “I asked him not to make a sound,” Namjoon explains, “And he’s abiding by my rules so well it’s he?” 

Namjoon takes your hands helping you to feel the current state in which Taehyung is interned. A Leather cuff just like yours binds one of his wrists with a short chain leading to bedpost. You imagine that his other limbs are restricted to the other corners of the bed, for Namjoon has bound you in the same state before. 

“Can he see?” You ask Namjoon wondering if he has been left blind too, or if he’s eyes are watching you now.

“Can he see you? He can babygirl, in fact, he hasn’t looked away once, and why would he?” Namjoon sits you down on the large bed to join Taehyung before pulling down the matching underwear to your corset. “They’re so wet, have you been soaking these all day?” 

You nod in response. A delighted Namjoon makes an offer to Taehyung. “Would you like a taste pet? A reward for being so good.” Namjoon revels in his situation with a chuckle, the man beneath you must have nodded. “Then open up.” You know what a taste means for Namjoon, those panties of yours are most certainly shoved into Taehyung's mouth. He lets out a groan of satisfaction at the welcome intrusion.

Namjoon’s hands find your waist dragging you up further on to the bed with your knees now resting on the mattress. “You’re going to straddle him for me babygirl.” He shifts you over pulling up one of your legs to settle them on either side of the man beneath you. Your knees bent with your calves coming to rest against his bare hips. Without his billowy clothes he is far more slight than you expected, but his skin feels firm and toned. 

You slowly move to lower yourself knowing what you will come down on top of as you sit, but Namjoon seems to have other plans in mind. He takes your bound wrist, lifting them above your head and latching the cuffs to a chain in the rafters of the canopy bed. Once fixed in place he tests your limitations, a quick tug to show you even with your arms fully extended you are only able to lower yourself to half a kneel. You groan in frustration with the realization you can’t move any closer to the cock that rests below you. It’s just as he promised, hung like forbidden fruit above another man. Your dominant’s flare for the poetic never failing to surprise you.

“Problem babygirl?” Namjoon cooes in your ear. “Do you have something you want to say?”

“No sir.”

“Good, because if I recall you still need to be punished for your lack of formality on the phone earlier today.” 

Your stomach drops as you realize he’s going to discipline you right now, in full view of Taehyung. The heat rises to your face at the thought of being demeaned in front of another. Namjoon’s hand cups your bare ass, readying it for the assault. “You failed to call me sir twice, three for each lapse should do it.”

While the first strike eases you in, those that follow are not so gentle. The ring of his index biting your flesh with each impact. The third strike is so strong you pivot forward on your knees, your back arching as you bare forward still confined to the corset and chains. The weight of your body pulls painfully on your shoulders for a brief second, but Namjoon is there to catch you. Stopping you before you can slip and more, and propping you back in place before continuing. 

One hand lays firmly on your stomach to prevent the shift from happening again, while the other rubs the curve of your ass mapping where he should strike next. You can feel the warmth in your skin as the blood rises to the surface in reaction to his beating. Your nerves are caught in the struggle between pain and pleasure, even as the sixth and final blow lands. 

“Good girl.” Namjoon whispers his touch disappearing, as you ease down against your restraints. You hang completely by your wrists while your legs quake from the shock. Every nerve in your body feels as though it’s been left on fire with nothing to quench the flames. Leaving you to hang there for what seems like eternity.

“Sir?” You whisper in the dark as the heat continues to build inside you. Wondering where he has gone your body reacts, begging for the return of his attention with a dripping cunt. And with Taehyung below that can only mean the steady drip of your arousal is left to fall on him.

“Babygirl you’re making such a mess.” Namjoon confirms along with a groan from the man beneath you. “But he appears to be leaking too. Do you want some?” You nod eager for a taste. 

Namjoon obliges, grabbing your throat in one hand, he presses a damp finger to your lips for you to take. Your mouth latches over the offered digit, allowing the bitter fluid to sweep over your tongue. You're forced to let it sit there unable to swallow as the grip on your throat tightens, with the strap of the collar digging into your skin. Your mouth fills with saliva prompting you to close it despite your desperate need for air. 

“Does he taste good?” Namjoon wickedly possesses knowing you can barely even nod. It’s when you start to tremble that he finally releases your airway. 

You swallow quickly before letting your mouth hang open in a pant. With your lungs still restricted by the corset your breathing comes in short shuddering waves. “Yes sir, so good.”

“I think he likes having you drench him, shall we give him more?”

“Please.” You beg but Namjoon suddenly delivers a staggering blow to your backside, indicating your misstep. You’re left gasping from the sudden impact, swinging in the restraints as you try to recoil. “Please sir.” Your plea comes again this time with the proper decorum.  

There’s a crinkle of what sounds like a condom wrapper as Namjoon readies himself behind you. His fingers damp with lubrication find your back entrance, your tight hole giving way to a single finger. “You’ve been training for me like I asked?”

“Yes sir.” You almost come at the thought of it along with pleasure with the swirling digit. You’ve dabbled in anal before testing out a few toys, but a few weeks ago he sent you a plug with a tapered t-shaped end, giving you strict orders to wear it to work the following day. Unfortunately that was the date you had scheduled a meeting with your whole team. You were a flustered mess as you fought through your presentation, Jimin’s presence by your side making it so much more difficult to maintain control of your arousal . But the full day of public and torturous stimulation was worth it, for the reward that night was a call from Namjoon. His orders led you through every action of self pleasure.  Telling you when and where to touch before finally directing you to come. You’ve used the item several times on your own since, knowing your practice would help you in this moment. You wanted to make Namjoon proud and take him with little resistance. That desire now intensified with having Taehyung as an audience.

“Then you're ready to take me in front of him?” 

You nod gripping chains of the restraints as Namjoon eases into you. “Just relax.” His hands glide down your shoulders and back, coming to rest splayed across your hips, the tips of his finger root under the corset and dig into your stomach. Your grip eases as you lean back into him. “That’s it.” He mutters quietly as you stretch to accommodate him. “Good girl.”

After taking a few inches Namjoon pushes down on the front of your corset bowing the metal latches back to so they release, with a few clicks and swift presses the garment is off allowing you to breathe deeper than you have all day. 

“God you should see him babygirl, he’s so ruined by the sight of you. You have him panting for you.” You wish you could curse Namjoon for his choice to blindfold you and silence Taehyung, you would take any punishment that came of it, but all you can muster is a gasp while he continues to fill you more. “I wonder how he’ll react,” One of Namjoon’s hands leaves your hips coming to rest with something soft against your aching clit. “When he sees you come.” With a click the object vibrates, throwing you back completely onto Namjoons cock from the shock.

You catch Namjoon’s lustful groan between your cries. He starts to thrust inside of you one hand gripping your chest while the other holds the vibrate down in place despite your bucking hips. It doesn’t take long for you to completely fold. As the heat inside you finally reaches its peak you shatter, your head falling back on Namjoon’s shoulder as you convulse and moan. With nothing for your cunt to clench your legs grip the trussed man between them. He too lets out a sinful groan as the fluids from your fold continue to drip down your legs meet his adjoining skin. 

Namjoon turns the device off and slips out, the bed shifts as he moves in front of you. When his hand cups your face you lean into his touch. “You okay?”

You nod hoping he’ll be lenient with your lack of speech. You hear him whisper as he checks in with Taehyung too. “I’m going to take these now.” Namjoon must finally be freeing him from the waded underwear of yours.

Namjoon’s hands find you again, playing with the arousal dripping down your legs as he drags his fingers up to the source. A finger grazes your folds slipping between without penetrating. You pull desperately against your restraints hoping that it might find its way inside.  

“So are you going to tell me who you’re not allowed to have?” Namjoon asks again. “Or do I have to let you hang here all night?” 

“My secretary...” You give in with a  whisper, hoping that Taehyung won’t hear.

“And what’s his name? Say it and I’ll give you what you want.” 

The deal is too good for you to resist, you last only a couple more seconds before finally giving in. Crying out, “Jimin,” as two of Namjoon’s fingers breach you. Your sopping slit squelching as he curls his fingers. 

“There it is.” Namjoon sighs, his other hand brushing your cheek. “Is he the reason you’re so worked up tonight babygirl?”

“Y-yes sir.” You stutter as his fingers continue. He gives you another minute of bliss before removing his digits. 

“You’re going to do something for me, okay?” Namjoon asks. You nod as he continues to hold your face. “That man between your legs, you are going to fuck him and imagine Jimin as you do so, is that clear?” 

“Yes sir.”

“Is that okay with you pet?” He asks the other occupant, who still remains silent with his answers. The sound of another condom wrapper, comes as your confirmation.  Taehyung lets out an unexpected high pitched whine, likely due to the pressure that comes with the latex being rubbed down his shaft. You’re already so invested in the lie that he’s even starting to sound like Jimin. 

Namjoon is once again behind you. You can hear the rattle of the length of chain that holds you up and as he sinks back into you, his cock slipping in far easier this time, your body gladly welcomes the fullness of his intrusion.  He then lowers you inch by inch, with little strength left in your legs you are relying only on the restraints and Namjoon to hold you up. After gaining a bit more freedom you can feel the tip of a cock brushing up against you. Namjoon’s arm comes to rest on your thigh as he lines the erection up for you to take it inside. It’s a slow descent, as you stretch to accommodate both of them. Your thankful Namjoon’s mercy for easing you down gradually. 

When you bottom out Namjoon pulls the chain down from the rafters he releases the length from your cuffs, but rather than discarding it he attaches it to your collar, tugging on it as if it’s a leash. Though your hands are still bound together you have the freedom to rest them on the man laying down in front of you. You take pleasure in dragging the tips of your fingers across his skin, feeling his abs flex and his cock twitch inside you as you do so. 

Namjoon starts to thrust, keeping a close hold on your collar. While he pushes you are sent up and down on what you desperately want to be Jimin’s thick cock. After a few thrusts you are shoved forward entirely by Namjoon, colliding with the man beneath you. Your chest is pushed into his, as your bound hands are pinned between the two of you. While your head is left to rest on his shoulder, the tip of your nose is able to graze his neck. As you breathe in your mind continues to play tricks, the smell coming off him mimics that of the cologne your secretary wears, rather than the scent of Taehyung. 

Namjoon must have unbound his legs as they bend up to cradle your own from behind his hips bucking into yours, with both men taking you at a steady pace.

You move in closer to his neck, with a lick you taste the salt of his skin showing  your intentions. Biting down on the spot, you suck in deeply as your teeth dig in even harder. The carnal groans you receive from him sending shivers to your spine. There’s the sound of a soft slap, Namjoon didn’t hit you, but the man beneath you returns to his ordered silence.

Namjoon thrusts even harder, pushing you into his chest repeatedly. The thought of being fucked into Jimin’s embrace is too much to bear. Your cunt clenches as you continue envisioning your secretary, and how you're grinding your clit against his pelvis. 

You cry out over the swelling girths inside you, knowing their both likely to come soon. Clenching down one last time you dissolve in the pleasure and contentment. Namjoon finishes first remaining inside while his pet comes too. He leaves you there laying upon your imagined Jimin, in your daze  you can barely move let alone focus on reality. With a wave of exhaustion you start to slip from consciousness, but not before one last praise reaches your ears. Your delirium grants you the satisfaction of hearing the voice of Jimin whisper, “Good girl.”

...

You can’t remember the last time you slept so well. You woke early to find Namjoon had taken care of you in the night, he released your wrist cuffs, and removed your blindfold, after you had passed out from the physical exertion. The only restraint to remain was your collar which he asked you to wear today. Taehyung was sadly already gone, but you can’t deny it was nice to have Namjoon to yourself before you left. 

Now as you head off to work, showered and freshly dressed, with a turtleneck hiding your gift, you check your phone for the first time. Finding a string of apologetic messages sent from Jimin in the early hours of the morning. You reply apologizing too and asking to revisit the subject as soon as you get into work. Thankfully he agrees, the smiling emoji he ends his text on sends a wave of relief through you.

You step in the front entrance of your building ready to handle and objectively listen to Jimin’s thoughts and concerns. While you wait for the elevator your phone vibrates listing a call from an unknown number. “Hello?”

“Hey it’s Taehyung. Hope you don’t mind, I stole your personal number from my father.”

“Taehyung...” Heat starts to rise in your face at the thought of last night. The elevator arrives and you quickly step in. “No, not at all, to what do I owe the honour of this call.”

“No need to be so formal,” He giggles at you.

“Sorry, habit,” You respond. “What can I do for you?” 

“I wanted to thank you for yesterday...” Taehyung starts off. 

But his words are soon interrupted by someone shouting, “Hold the door.” You comply, pushing the button to keep them open, while trying to keep your focus on your conversation with Taehyung.

“...It’s not often that I meet someone who I can be so open with. I called the man you recommended and I’ve scheduled my first session with him tomorrow.”  

You freeze, unable to fully comprehend what he’s saying, surely he misspoke. It can’t be his first session. “W-what do you mean your first session is tomorrow? You were there-” The collar hidden beneath your turtleneck feels as though it’s tightening around your throat. “Last night, I saw you-” The line goes dead as the elevator closes and starts to ascend. It was Taehyung in the bed with you and Namjoon last night. You saw... nothing you saw nothing because of the blindfolded that you were asked to wear.

“Everything okay?” You jump at the sound of the other voice, forgetting that some else had gotten into the elevator. Looking up you find Jimin there beaming at you, his head tilted from his query.

“Namjoon,” You flutter with your phone, too panicked to even greet your secretary properly. “I need to call Namjoon.” But the line won’t connect, not with you in the elevator. “Fuck...” You try again your patience not willing to wait the minute it’ll take to disembark on your floor.  

You are almost there when the elevator shudders and stops. The sudden halt sends you off balance, but Jimin’s there to grab hold of you before you can fall. You thank him before stepping back and putting a bit of distance between the two of you again.

Jimin turns his attention to the panel, pushing the call button, he waits for someone to answer, but the call remains silent. 

While he continues in his attempt to make contact, every scene of the night before floods back to your memory as you try to piece everything together. It was Taehyung, it had to be. He must just be playing a stupid joke. He was surely going to shout ‘gotcha’ before the phone disconnected, but you won’t know for certain until someone can get you off this blasted lift. You sink to the floor and Jimin follows, unable to reach anyone on the outside. 

Despite your best efforts to rationalize what happened, your panicked breaths fail to slow, Spots start appearing in your vision as the elevator sways around you. Your breakfast threatens to make another appearance on the polished marble floor. 

“It’ll be fine. Someone will notice soon.” Jimin attempts to comfort you but even that won’t quash the fear raging inside you.

“It’s not just that...” You whisper. “Something happened last night. I need to call Namjoon, I need to figure out...” Who was actually in that bed with you. Your confusion and panic break free sending you into a fit of tears as you hug your knees to your chest.

“Hush, it’s okay.” Jimin readjusts, moving in front of you and taking your hands in his. He leans towards you as he whispers in your ear. “Don’t cry babygirl.”

Your eyes snap to look at Jimin in alarm. Your prior worries are nothing compared to the terror which takes hold now. “H-how do you know that name?” Your stuttered words barely make their way past your lips.

“I think you know the answer to that question.” He pulls at the collar of his shirt allowing you to spot a large red mark on his neck, right where you had bitten the man you once thought to be Taehyung. “I wanted to wait a bit longer, I wanted more moments like we had last night but it would seem that someone had to go and ruin it.” You pull back but Jimin’s hands shift to take hold of your wrists, mimicking the manacles that embraced you the night before. “Are you not happy babygirl? You got your wish. And I... I got what I’ve always wanted.”

“This is so wrong Jimin! You knew I thought you were someone else! You knew that I wouldn’t have done that last night if I knew the truth.” 

“Even though I was the one you really wanted babygirl?”

“Stop calling me that! Just because of what happened last night does not make me yours. You lied to Namjoon. You said that I sent you. You told him you were Taehyung!”

Jimin gives a wicked laugh in response to your accusations. “Oh, but you are mine. Namjoon is the one who’s been keeping things from you. He’s been in my employ far longer than yours.” He coos as his fingers tighten their grip on you. “I was the reason you were introduced to him, and I was the one who bestowed you with that name shortly after.”

“No, that’s not possible, Namjoon and I, we met at a charity event.”

“Hosted by my father. Where I told him to make himself known to you, to entice you to become one of his pets. I may have acted the sub last night but I am the one who holds Namjoon’s reins, I always have.”

“No he would never do that! He’s considerate and-”

“Had so much to gain by dominating you on my behalf. Money, power, and an assurance of safety, he would’ve been a fool to turn my offer down. Especially since you were so willing to play along with him. I dare say he enjoyed his time with you, but I was the one who permitted him to touch you. I was there to listen, to read, and to direct every conversation. Those gifts he told you to wear to the office, they were all from me.” He lets go of one of your wrists to pull down the neck of your shirt. Revealing the leather band strapped around your neck. “Today it’s the collar, yesterday it was the corset, and a few weeks ago...” Jimin smirks as he recalls the memory to your mind. “You barely made it through that meeting thanks to my gift.”

  It’s impossible to swallow the admissions coming from him, but regardless of what may be true or false, you won’t stand for any of it. “You’ve had your fun, but this ends now.” You reach up attempting to remove the collar but Jimin pushes you to the floor pinning your arms above you as he straddles you. The elevator wavers from the struggle, teetering as you lay captive beneath him. 

“I don’t think you understand the situation you’ve placed yourself in. I hold in my possession your darkest secrets. One’s that will ruin you if they make their way out. Your illegal activity with a sex worker, your inappropriate sexual conduct with your secretary. Not to mention the names and dubious activities of every client you’ve recommended to Namjoon’s services.”  

“Why... why are you doing this?” 

“Because you found me. I worked so hard to exploit my father from the outside, getting everything I wanted without the threat of public exposure. I couldn’t let you ruin it all. When we first met I considered you a threat, but then I saw how easy and enjoyable it was to mould to my will. The more intimate you become with someone the more power you give them over you. Simply being your secretary isn’t enough, not if I want you in a more pliable state.” Jimin hushed whisper mixes with a haunting giggle as his lips come to your ear. “I plan to bend you to fit every one of my needs.”

“You’re psychotic!” You lash out trying to throw him off but he stems your revolt by planting himself further down on to you, sitting on your chest as the elevator sways.

“Psychotic? No, I am simply a man who found his passion amidst his revenge. I know what I desire, and vengeance has taught me how best to take it. So if you want to keep yourself and everything else around you from falling, I suggest you play along like a good girl. Or I promise you, my punishments won’t be as kind as what you’ve experienced before.”

“What is it that you want?” You ask, already fearing his answer. He has you trapped in a gilded cage with him, where one misstep will send you plummeting to meet your end. Nothing that comes accompanied by such threats can be palatable.

“At work? To keep the status quo, I’ll remain your secretary, only so I can keep a better hold on you.” 

“Hoseok won’t agree to that. He already thinks I should ditch you. I should have listened to him.” 

“Then you will make him agree or he might have an accident, much like your accountant did. He too thought we were too close, even threatened to say something. Don’t worry I saved us from him, just as I’ll save us from Hoseok if you can’t convince him to back off. Do you think you can get him to agree now?”

You give a solemn nod, with Hoseok on the line you have no choice.

“After hours, we’ll drop the middleman.” Jimin lowers himself further on to you, laying down on top, his weight flattening you to the floor. With his head coming to rest on your restrained arm as he whispers further plans. “Every night you’ll come to me instead, and every morning you’ll have a new gift to wear. When we step off this elevator you’ll act as if nothing is wrong. You will go about business as usual, is that clear babygirl?”

You stifle a sob staring directly up and away from his eyes, not daring to give him the satisfaction of your fear. With little else to cling to, all you can do is agree for the time being, as much as it pains you, you choke out your compliance. “Yes...” 

“Yes what?” Jimin purrs, his lips faintly touching your ear. “Address me properly, or I will find ways to discipline you right here on this lift.” His fingers tighten and nails bite into your skin.

“Yes sir,” you whine as a plea for him to stop. 

Jimin mercifully lessens his hold on your wrists, hitting you instead with a smirk and befouled praise. “Good girl. I knew you’d finally see that I’m worth the risk.”

...

[queernuck]

The Cleveland Browns made the playoffs. The Islanders made the Eastern Conference Finals.

And that’s enough for me.

So long, so long I have been living like this, pretending that I want to keep on living, that life feels worthwhile, that I don’t want to kill myself. Suicide is for cowards but ive been chickening out for a whole decade, to the point where getting on the subway was itself something that involved convincing myself not to jump in front of it. I remember once while working in the city, I watched and waited as two trains came in and left, trying to get the energy to jump in front of them. I had decided, if I couldn’t do it by the time a second train came and went, I would go to work and save it for another day. I came very close, my legs tense like a linebacker on 4th & Goal, but I didn’t do it. Maybe it would be better if I had, I would have saved not only myself but a lot of other people a lot of pain and suffering. I’ve been dealing with feeling suicidal for a decade, an entire ten years, and made it through. And for what? I lost a retail job at minimum wage, I’ve seen the Giants go from two-time Super Bowl kingslayers to a team that relied on the Eagles for a playoff berth, I got to see Evangelion only for the final Rebuild film to be infinitely delayed, I have a useless non-degree that allows me to eloquently describe how the Democrats and Republicans alike are driving this stolen land to Fascism while sycophants tell me Vote Blue No Matter Who. I’m so tired, I’m not even the person people think me to be, since if I were, I wouldn’t be in this mess.

My paychecks, as hard-earned as they were, never seemed to be mine in any real sense, and it made me so frustrated that something in me broke at the beginning of this year. I made some mistakes, some very stupid ones, and got myself fired. I took money from and distorted the inventory of my store to get what amounted to pocket money, less than two paychecks. I was tempted because I feel so powerless, so much like nothing I could ever say or do matters, and so I decided to lash out against a place that mattered to me, against people I cared about deeply. Chain stores, corporations, all of those things are not really high on my list of things to care about. Barnes & Noble pushed out local booksellers years ago, an irony not lost on me whenever our own competition with Amazon was made apparent. We were reaping what we had sown. But what always interested on top of this irony was how symbolic these things could be to people, how much we figured into so may memories for so many. The Manga Aisle at Barnes & Noble is a staple of 2006 scene culture, a way that kids without the pocket money to afford the newest volume of Bleach it Naruto could keep up before scams became widely available. How the store was a place where people studying for standardized tests could use the test prep guides to try and get ready for the eugenic ritual of the standardized test. And just how much a chain bookstore became a substitute, socially, for the now-absent local bookstore. We bear the guilt for that, but at the same time we were still selling books, giving people a place to get coffee and sit and read and talk, in ways that libraries may not be able to. We certainly can never replace a library, given just what a library does for people. But we did do a lot of good all the same. Before it closed, some of my fondest memories came when I was the exact sort of annoying teenage customer I grew to hate, hanging out at the Columbus Circle Borders. Working at Barnes & Noble was tiring, dehumanizing, difficult, made me feel like I would never measure up to the authors we sold, the people books were written about, that I was a failure. And I am, as my death shows. But it also made me a part of something I was proud of. And that Above & Beyond pin I earned is in my jacket still, a reminder of something.

That something was shown in so many of the coworkers I had, who were incredible in so many ways. I feel awful for what I did, I genuinely do, because of how it may have hurt people who thought so kindly of me, people who deserve so much good. I wish I had the ability to address each of them individually but this decision was hastily made, and i have a feeling it will show in the things I miss in this note. Audra, your help in finding me a way to use the company policies to my advantage as a worker was something that gave me faith even after having seen the despicable firings and cuts the company went through. Linda, I can’t quite square the circle here given my actions, but I want to say your disappointment broke my heart and that while I will not be the one who shows it, your reassurance that everyone makes mistakes was welcome.

To my (former) fellow booksellers at Store 2216, all of my love and my sincerest apologies. You all have so much good in you, your willingness to listen to my ADHD-fueled rants and to discuss so many things with an incredible frankness was always impressive, in addition to part of what I loved about all of you. I want you all to be happy, and the kinship I felt with you was a vital part of what kept me going. It was tough, as you all know. But at times, it almost felt worth it.

The same is true of my CTY friends: it was a weird, magical place that frankly, a lot of us idealized for far too long and which sk many of us eventually outgrew without being able to let go of. And that was tough, that was something we had a great deal of difficulty understanding, that what helped us once was not always going to be helping us, was not always what we needed. But in eventually finding that, we found solace, we realized how life as a whole functions and just what it is that we can take from places like it.

To my other family, my Cleo family, I know I haven’t been terribly active lately, but I can never, ever thank you enough for the belonging you gave me. I have never felt anywhere as welcoming as Cleo. As warm as Cleo (even as we struggled to pay for the oil bill) was. As kind and understanding. As tolerant. As questioning and inquisitive into what that tolerance meant to us. I am thankful, eternally, for what you all did for me. The incredible experiences I had as a Cleo make me proud of what the organization can represent, and one of my dying wishes is that the organization continues to reach out to marginalized communities on Trinity’s campus. There is much work to be done in making sure abusers cannot hide in our family, but I trust you all to do that work. Tucker Carlson is a Trinity grad and we must embody the opposite of what he stands for, no matter how difficult it may be. I could go on about how this means opposing liberals and Liberalism/Neo—Liberalism due to the truth of tolerance resulting in a Popper-esque Paradox of Tolerance that implies Popper is a worthwhile philosopher, but that’s another issue.

To my friends on that Blue Hellsite, tumblr, you made a continual presence worth it, even with all of the bullshit this place brings. It’s the reason I read so much Foucault, Derrida, Deleuze & Guattari, read Žižek against himself, and so on and so on, and the value of that to me can never be overstated. I learned so much from the ways in which I learned to analyze the world, and that in turn became a huge inspiration for why I should try to do what I could to make the world closer to a place of revolution, one where we could perhaps eke out a living for one another. I loved how much I could be an unrepentant nerd and still love hockey on there, and while the

NHL fans on tumblr are incredibly annoying,

I can deal with that compared to the racism of most hockey fans.

Mom, Dad? I just couldn’t live with you any longer. I’m so sorry.

Grandma, I love you.

And the things I leave behind? Donate what can be donated. Hats, please auction, or at least offer to other HatHeads at a reasonable price. I had some nice ones. As for assorted albums, clothing, and other things, sell them and donate to a Harm Reduction organization, or organizations that advocate for PWUD in a radical fashion. WE DESERVE AUTONOMY!

I am a victim of the War on Drugs. Sobriety was always hellish to me, and I could never take it. I want people to be able to live how they want, to see sobriety and being on drugs as equally valuable states, to see the two as no different from one another.

Abolish all gun laws

End the War on Terror

Decriminalize and legalize all drugs, sobriety is what killed me.

I love all of you.

LET’S GO ISLANDERS!

[robininthelabyrinth]

2nd prompt: The ladies need some love. If you could give me something that passes the Bechdel test in the untamed universe, without needing lesbian relashionshs, it would fill me with joy

A/N: apologies for not really answering the prompt - for some reason, it gave me the idea to write a bunch of Untamed characters at a stitch-n-bitch and they have so much to complain about... 

“It’s just endlessly frustrating,” Wen Qing said. “I’m a doctor. A very good doctor. How is this the best use of my time?”

She angrily stabbed the cloth in front of her as if it had done something to her personally.

“Consider it practice for your suturing skills,” Madame Jin said, attending to her own embroidery. “Or as stress reduction – I find it especially calming to think of my husband’s face while I sew.”

“Mm, yes,” Madame Yu said. “Stab, stab, stab. I can see the appeal.”

Jiang Yanli hid her giggles behind her own fabric, and even Wen Qing’s lips curled up a little.

“Moreover, knowledge of embroidery is important in its own right,” Madame Yu added. “Especially for us – between the dyers, the weavers, and the seamstresses, the Jiang sect supervises the making of clothing for three quarters of the cultivation world.”

“And we sell it to them,” Madame Jin reminded her.

Madame Yu made a face back at her.

“Personally, I just wish there were more women from the Lan sect available to participate,” Jiang Yanli murmured. “It doesn’t seem fair, really…”

“That we all get dragged around to every Discussion Conference and then shut out of participating in the politics?,” Madame Yu said. “Entirely unfair. Especially since it means that your father has to make decisions, which isn’t exactly what I would call his strong point.”

“Ah, ah, no politics in here,” Madame Jin said. “No politics, and no men, absent special exceptions. Remember the rules. Why don’t we go back to discussing Young Mistress Wen’s grievances?”

“No, there’s no point,” Wen Qing said, a little begrudgingly. “Sect Leader Wen respects my medical skills, but he worries, I think, that I’d – I don’t know, give away secrets or something. I don’t know why. Anyway, at least this way I avoid young masters Greed and Malevolence. Thanks for letting me get it out…how have you all been? Anything new?”

Madame Jin, the immaculate hostess, immediately launched into a rendition of a story out of Lanling, involving theft, vandalism, attempted murder, and a great deal of salacious gossip before concluding with the exile of the relevant party.

“I’m fairly sure that’s not a medically advised use of goose feathers,” Wen Qing said, biting her lips to keep from laughing. “Or – any of that, really. Is that really an appropriate punishment?”

“Well, it’s better than the Lan sect’s view of punishment,” Madame Yu said. “Can you imagine writing all those endless rules?”

“I wouldn’t mind writing rules,” Jiang Yanli said thoughtfully. “I would mind triple training, which I understand is the Nie sect’s preferred approach.”

“Well, you can’t make trouble if none of your muscles work,” Madame Yu pointed out. “It has some merit.”

“What would be the Jiang sect’s preferred punishment in this case?” Madame Jin asked. “Something more corporeal?”

“Kneeling, usually,” Madame Yu said. “All night, if necessary. The purpose is to teach humility.”

“Does it?”

“Not that I’ve noticed.”

“A pity…”

“What are your thoughts on medicinal cuisine?” Jiang Yanli asked Wen Qing in an undertone. “I don’t have any medical expertise, but I’m a fairly good cook, so I was thinking…”

“There are plenty of guides out there,” Wen Qing said, brightening. “I can get some for you. What sort of things were you planning on focusing on?”

“Oh, no plans, just thinking –”

There was a knock at the door.

Madame Jin went to answer it, blinking up at Nie Mingjue.

“You’re not allowed,” she said.

“I know, I know, the rules are that these things are women only,” he said. He looked like he had a headache. “Any chance I can pretend long enough to escape having to talk to any of your spouses?”

“I thought saying you were a woman caused people like you pain,” Madame Jin said.

“Not as much pain as politics.”

“Well, they won’t look for you here,” Madame Yu said with a smirk. “Come on, let him in already.”

“There are rules for a reason, A-Yuan. I don’t care if he’s misaligned; he’s still a man.”

“We do allow some special exceptions,” Madame Yu said briskly. “Anyway, even if he’s not a woman, he’s still not one of the ones we complain about, is he? Same rules as cutsleeves.”

“Can misaligned people be cutsleeves?” Madame Jin asked, reluctantly stepping aside. “I don’t know much about it.”

“It works the same way as it does anywhere else,” Nie Mingjue said, doing his best to look especially pathetic. “I’m a man; if I like men, I’m a cutsleeve.”

“Do you?”

“I like everything. Can I come in?”

“Yes,” Madame Yu said. “Come in, take some clothing, and come tell me what terrible decisions has my husband made now and if it’s too late to go behind his back to overturn them?”

“I came here to avoid talking politics. Isn’t that one of the rules as well?” Nie Mingjue grumbled, but he came in and picked up some cloth and a needle, sitting down next to them to avoid towering.

“You came here to avoid talking politics with idiots,” Madame Jin said tartly. “We don’t qualify.”

“Did you know that Sect Leader Nie…?” Wen Qing asked Jiang Yanli in a whisper, eyes wide. Jiang Yanli shook her head mutely. “But if he was born misaligned, how in the world did he get to be so tall…?”

“If you mean the mustache, you can just say so,” Nie Mingjue said dryly. “It’s a stupid use of cultivation, I know.”

Jiang Yanli hid a smile in her sleeve. “It’s very handsome.”

“Actually, I did mean your height,” Wen Qing said. “Using cultivation to grow hair is one thing, but if people could use it to get taller, we’d be surrounded by giants, rather than just you.”

“You ought to have seen my mother,” Nie Mingjue said. He’d started embroidering a small flower onto the sleeve – blue and pretty. “Now she was tall. Possibly a goddess, if you listen to the gossip.”

“The gossip was pretty sure she was a goddess,” Madame Jin said. “No possibly about it. You embroider better than she ever did, though.”

“Wild animals embroidered better than Madame Nie did,” Madame Yu said, sounding vaguely nostalgic. “I only met her a few times, but I was very impressed each time by exactly how little she cared about anyone’s anything. Do you remember the time she walked around Qishan holding a full grown pig above her head?”

“I wish she’d dropped it on Sect Leader Wen.”

“You’re not the only one,” Nie Mingjue said, then frowned. “Young Mistress Wen, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be over with the rest of the doctors comparing notes?”

“Oh, no, you just had to get her started again –”

[incarnateirony]

Someone dropped this in my submission box instead of ask box, “So I’m trying to genuinely understand what you’re saying is you understand corporate execs at the CW had a hand in the ending of supernatural? I’m not judging not attacking I swear I’m just trying to make sense of it because I had no idea about any of this up till now because I had stayed out of online fandom because well for years it felt big but anyways am I getting this right?”

---

The CW has a hand in everything. Here’s how this generally works.

The authors have ~relative~ freedom on a show. That is to say, the execs really don’t sit there splitting the nuances of the storytelling the fandom is receiving. They generally don’t even identify major markers that any of us would know (see: not even recognizing what the Roadhouse is.) -- we all knew the original ending had TFW at the Roadhouse as framed and spoiled by 15.04 among other details, and the whole “heaven/mental bar” theme from DSOTM, Nihilism, and Last Call all amplified this as an inevitability--but when you ask about “hey, is there a bar in heaven?” and get a “no?” that tells you they don’t even understand *ancient* plot beats like the Roadhouse, much less the ramifications of what it’s supposed to entail. Oh look at that, the roadhouse was just in fucking heaven like we said, but you identified it as a “cabin” because of filming locations and your basic notes.

Corporate has very basic compliance demands. They expect X, Y, and Z. What X Y and Z are across different shows vary depending on their markets. As long as the authors operate within X Y and Z, the corporate face essentially works off of synopsis of pitches and ideas.

This is also why I’ve talked about queer writing history and people being careful what they call queerbait: you don’t know what their X Y and Z are. The WB for example does not really CARE about representation. I’ve blogged about this often. We’re dollar signs. If they can package a new product to market it explicitly as LGBTQ fare, then they’ll turn you into a revenue machine by feeding you that particular fodder. When it comes to legacy shows--which is funny, because when the suit went off in my DM about this, they used the exact same phrasing as me--they’re going to play it safe, especially if they don’t truly understand the returns from the demographics they’re observing.

The space between X Y and Z is where the authors have liberty to push and, the longer and harder they push, the louder the content is allowed to get.

Here! I’ll even quote them directly, somewhat truncated because they ranted for fucking PARAGRAPHS.

“In reference to the media landscape, on a corporate level we do not distinguish fandoms. [...] That said, legacy shows such at Arrow, Supernatural, and even Flash are relics and we never really endeavored to reinvent the wheel on a corporate level, we are more focused on shows that are newer and still in our pipeline to premiere. [...] As for social media like all businesses and brands the engagement itself is key, but the content of the engagement is mostly irrelevant, though every show does have certain keywords that are often used in conjunction with harsher interactions blacklisted.”

The funny part is, they thought they were preaching to me like this was new information, but those of you that have been around my blog will PROBABLY RECOGNIZE this is almost VERBATIM exactly what I have told everybody over the years. Enough I half-suspect some trolls out there will think i wrote it myself and made it up and lob that accusation around. But there’s about 50 people that watched this conversation as it unfolded.

If you guys get mad? You’re still giving them PR. If you engage the content? You’re giving them PR. If you guys get bitchy ENOUGH? They completely blacklist a certain kind of engagement. I have literally been telling you all of this for years.

They don’t care who you are or what you want, just if you’re watching and what they at-best roughly estimate your demographic as desiring. So for example, Supernatural reading as a largely non-urban white demographic in its viewership, especially with a heavier lean in red states than most shows on the network, they presume to cater to what they perceive that demographic wants, rather than individualizing the understanding of the content, because they do not distinguish the shows or fandoms. “Oh, heavier republican white non-urban demographic” is where their understanding ends at, which is why they’re going to be utterly mystified why even my trump-voting republican neighbor from rural Alabama looked at the end result and went “what the fuck?” -- they weren’t expecting a big gay confession, but they were expecting a different sort of final tone.

Of course they’re never going to take that on for themselves and go “wow, we’re giant blazing dumbasses that understand nothing about the show!” -- they’ll, for example, claim they don’t leave network notes, when they’re still the ones passing material along about demographics and expectations etc etc. Their notes are *basic*. They do not leave *extensive* notes. Because extensive notes require extensive understanding of the content.

So for example: Berens spent since S9 slowly gaying up our show. Since they do not pay attention to the fine details of the story contents (lol no bar in heaven lolololol just a cabin lololol), he never got a note to *stop*. But it was not within the original structure plans and didn’t technically fit the demographic notes. The show continued to get aggressively gayed up, and Berens never really signed a note like “hey, I’m gaying it the fuck up” so even fandom reporters were going “THERE’S NO INTENT THERE!!!!!” -- berens operated in his very basic X, Y, Z landmarks to expand content within a story the suits literally do not pay the fuck attention to.

Corporate’s understanding is basic: dudes stabbing monsters and brothers against the world. Play in that box and keep these demographic notes in mind. You’re good.

They’ll NEVER mention blacklisting issues directly beyond what they admitted in the above quote but I DO remind you I have ranted ON AND ON AND ON how much Destiel fandom shot themselves in the goddamn foot with a fucking bazooka with the Chad Kennedy incident years ago. Others like Emily handled it intelligently to inform the *authors*. No, the network will never tell you if they blacklisted Destiel, but I informed you pretty heavily years ago that odds are, yeah, they probably fucking blacklisted Destiel.

Add in paying attention to the things Berens himself liked (if you don’t believe, scroll to Nov 5 on his tl)

Like, listen. berens knows exactly what he did and did the best he could do in the situations that were set up for him. And, frankly, I had been talking about this season as a writer room rebellion all year--just like corporate DID leave them a note in S11 that they couldn’t kill god. But if they couldn’t kill him or cage him, they would find another way. In 17 we said goodbye to Meredith and, in a way, to a MAJOR portion of Dean’s substantial story. In 18, we said goodbye to Bobo, and frankly all the parts that grew into queer Castiel that came with it. 19 and 20 became residual notes of hitting expected plot beats on the head on a rhythm, tying off godforces, and then just sliding into the Dabb subversion of them having learned to grieve, let go, and process emotions-- just the surrounding delivery left the feeling of more ~wanting~ on that front which is understandable.

But these are the kind of things people don’t even ~think~ about. This is WHY I’ve turned myself into a bulletshield protecting Berens’ work for YEARS while people yelled about queerbait not understanding the years of process he used in his unbabysat space to make something unable to dodge.

More posts he liked:

This isn’t a solo story. At the same SDCC he leaned over to my friend and grinned, whispering, “I hope you like what I did this year.” -- he knew. He knew and he fought his ass off but there was an end of the line.

That end of the line having an extra note or two to drop in the finale--never a big gay confirmation, just a “everyone’s there together, assume what you want” --is its own thing. As it is, Jensen even remarked how much of his dialogue got cut in final draft out of 18, and if the brazil dubbing footage leak tells me anything, they got the raw version before it was cut. And before they ADR’ed Dean’s sniffling collapsed against the wall. They had everything right, beyond the fact that there was supposed to be more dialogue from Dean along the lines of, “You can’t go”, or “you can’t leave” (difficult to determine what a ESL person seeing an english draft then yelling in portuguese then translated back to english meant, specifically, but something in that ballpark -- just like “don’t do this” came as “no it’s not” through the translation pipeline), and other similar minor bartering about this. And we’re not even gonna get into Dean’s hilariously loudly ADRed sniffling on the wall. Here, Jensen, breathe IMMEDIATELY into this microphone.

But they’re never going to tell you this. Of course they’re not. 

Summarily, corporate had half a year of having to re-manage scheduling everybody’s flights and planners during covid rewrites to stare directly into the huge gay abyss and fuck things up. 

It’s all about the unmonitored space vs the monitored space. Of COURSE they’re never going to fucking tell you these things. 

FRANKLY I am DYING to see the Portuguese dub of the show to see what the fuck they do with it, all things considered. I’m pretty sure the suit in my inbox that’s trying to vagueblog around things sideways now never accounted for the fact that there’s copies of the raw available in some parts of the world. I’m... pretty sure they thought they were my only leak source in fact. 

Either way--it’s not that corporate micromanages and passes constant notes. It’s that they gloss over vague summaries and plans, drop a few base expectations and performance boxes. It’s up to the authors how to kick up dust inside those boxes. 

[myherowritings]

valentine’s day with bnha

a/n: this is my valentine’s gift to you because i love you lots and hope u get to eat lots of chocolates n.n sorry i didn’t have time to finish a full fic like i planned :( this week is my exam week and i had no time :( but i hope u still enjoy these lil hc’s!! ily and if ur sad u don’t have a valentine don’t be bc i’m ur valentine now ^-^ (+ the bnha boys pfft) 

pairings: bakugou x reader, todoroki x reader, shinsou x reader 

(let’s be real i was thinking of nn!bakugou and ysag!shinsou for their headcanons so u can view it that way too heh) 

BAKUGOU KATSUKI

He scoffs at thought of Valentine’s Day

Bakugou views it as a commercialized holiday that suckers foolish losers into wasting money in the name of “love” 

Goes on and on about how corporations don’t care about anyone's feelings or the sentiment of love, they just want to profit by any means necessary

He much prefers showing you he loves you in subtle ways throughout the year (or big, in-your-face ways to show off to everyone else that you’re dating him) and for the most part you agree with him

But that doesn’t stop you from wanting to shower him with gifts and affection (partly because you know he’ll “hate” it, partly because you want to see his flustered blush when he receives the presents) 

You buy flowers and chocolates and give it to him in a cheesy way in front of his friends so they can tease him about it

Bakugou pretends to hate it but is actually smug that everyone got to see his adoring significant other

“Yeah, be jealous you nerds”

But when you’re in a more private place, you give him his real presents 

You make his favorite foods (with his preferred level of spice that no other human can handle) and play some cheesy slow dancing music as you share a meal

You decorated the dining area so lavishly with candles and fairy lights and champagne that Katsuki can’t help but feel flattered at the effort 

“You really upped your game this Valentine’s Day, huh?” he teases with a light scoff. “But still can’t beat what I have in store for you next month.” 

TODOROKI SHOUTO

Shouto comes home with armfuls of chocolates for the multitude of women who think he’s handsome and have taken an interest in him

You’re alarmed when you see how much chocolate he has and can’t help but laugh as he frets over how he’s going to remember to give them all courtesy gifts on White Day

You’re a little jealous because of how much others like him, but you’re not worried because you know he’s loyal and he always reassures you that you’re the one he loves

Todoroki loves spoiling you and showering you in gifts, but on Valentine’s Day you tell him he’s not allowed to give you anything

The day is all about spoiling him

He doesn’t care much for material things and would rather much have you give him cuddles or something homemade

Preferably cuddles

(Honestly, just cuddle him all day and he is all set)

Shouto doesn’t understand why Valentine’s Day is about romantic love when its origins are of someone who was executed

He rambles on and wonders what type of day he would inspire 

“You’d inspire a day of thoughtfulness and trust and loyalty because that’s what you exhibit,” you say 

Todoroki gives you an embarrassed, yet happy smile at your compliment 

Along with cuddles, you (attempt to) make him a home-cooked chocolate cake that may or may not turn out as planned

Regardless, he adores it anyway 

You make him a small, heart-shaped book filled with the little things you’ve noticed about him and reasons why you love him which he keeps by his bed every night 

You two love each other and need more than a day to share all that love 

SHINSOU HITOSHI

Shinsou was the type of person who rolled his eyes at Valentine’s Day and gagged at all the couples holding hands and being lovey-dovey… Until he became one half of a couple that held hands on Valentine’s Day and acted all lovey-dovey 

“You either die a hero, or live long enough to see yourself become a villain,” he says as you bow your head solemnly

He hates that he enjoys the cheesy gifts of chocolates and stuffed animals and surprise hugs and kisses you give him during the day

He doesn’t want to like it, but he does

He blames you 

Hitoshi wouldn’t have been this way if he were with anyone else and he is sure of it, but it just has to be you

(Not that he’s actually complaining)

Growing up, people thought he was attractive, but since they were always too scared and intimidated to approach him, he never got many Valentine’s gifts-- Only some courtesy chocolate that was passed out to everyone 

When you find out that he didn’t get many gifts before, you decide you have to make all those years up to him 

How you make up for those lost years? By making him one giant, dense chocolate that should last him a good six months if he ate a piece everyday of course

Shinsou isn’t sure what he’s going to do with all that candy or if he stands a chance of ever finishing it all, but he tries for you 

The effort you put into making it and the reason for it is what really matters to him 

It doesn’t matter if he wasn’t able to celebrate Valentine’s Day in the past, because now he’ll have many more to look forward to with you

[petri808]

We’ll Take Back Heaven a Nalu Yakuza Au

1 | 2 | 3 | 4

“Ms. Heartfilia,” the man nodded at the blonde.

“Mr. Katsunuma.” Lucy bowed in response. “Thank you for inviting me.”

“Of course,” the older male smiled. “Your assistance has led to this celebration after all.”

It was an extravagant party being held in a large room of Katsunuma Industries corporate headquarters. The tech giant was celebrating the acquisition of their rival in the industry… thanks in part to Lucy’s untraceable services. A few bits of intelligence on the rival company coupled by the money laundering Lucy provided allowed Katsunuma to fuel the merger and overtake them. The rival had no choice but to sign the contract because if they didn’t, they would have been put out of business. Part of the deal insured the employees would be kept which had been the rivals concern, but those employees are in large part Katsunuma’s desire to take the business. Their current patents and information aside, those employees were the heart of creating more. It was a genius move.

“Mmm, I do what I can,” Lucy smiled sweetly and held up her glass. “A toast to a successful relationship.”

The man clinked his glass against hers. “For many more years to come. Enjoy the party, Ms. Heartfilia.”

“I will,” Lucy responded with another smile.

As she made her way back towards the temporary bar set up, Lucy chatted with people along the way. Some she knew, others she didn’t, but her stunning looks always turned heads everywhere she went. She wasn’t the typical Asian beauty found around those parts. Her mother was a Caucasian American and her father a Japanese businessman, so the hapa mix created a buxom blonde with almond eyes and legs for days, fluent in both English and Japanese as well as Korean. Gorgeous and intelligent. Men desired her, and women either hated her or wanted to be her. Luckily for the other women, Lucy had no interest in these stuffy, boring business types, except in taking their money because she knew all they wanted were docile arm candies and that wasn’t for her at all.

The only reason she attended these events were to show her loyalties and drum up new business considering she operated at word of mouth. But anyone too eager to do business with her immediately sent up a cautionary flag. No one survives in the dark world by being naive, the biggest lesson her cut-throat businessman of a father ever taught her. Lucy had to get to know the person, feel them out, and background check them inside and out, and even after all that she wouldn’t immediately jump into an arrangement. She made sure that any business wanting to employ her laundering services would lose big time if they ever considered turning on her. ‘Stupid men,’ she mused to herself. Greed was the easiest way to keep them in line, because the green-eyed monster was just too enticing. Another lesson her father taught her the hard way when bankrupted his company on a bad venture.

Lucy placed her empty glass onto the bar top and rested an arm on it. She smiled at the orange-haired bartender. Handsome in a playboy kind of way, even the glasses added to the charm. “A Cosmopolitan, please.”

“Coming right up cutie,” the man winked at her.

She wanted to roll her eyes but played it cool. “Loke, is it,” Lucy read off the name tag on his vest. “Unusual name. Bet you flirt with all the girls, huh?”

“Only the pretty ones,” he grinned back. “And you are the finest example here tonight.”

“Aww, how sweet,” Lucy clicked her tongue with a shrug. “Too bad lines don’t work on me.”

“Doesn’t surprise me,” Loke smiled back undeterred. “You’re definitely a higher caliber than the rest.”

‘Oh, Kami,’ Lucy droned internally. This guy probably had a ton of cheeky comebacks in his repertoire. Was he fuckable in her view? Toned body but not too muscular, nimble fingers… maybe fit for a one-night affair. It has been awhile since she’d had some action, so maybe he could be fun to end this celebration with. She leaned in closer letting her breasts press up against the counter. “You know this might—”

“Careful dude, this ones got claws you don’t wanna mess with.”

Lucy’s body stiffened in annoyance at the new voice so close to her ear. “Ugh, Natsu.” Not the intrusion she wanted right now!

“My apologies,” Loke immediately put her finished drink down, then his hands up as he took a step back. “You have a good evening ma’am.”

But the bartender’s body language spoke volumes as well. Loke wasn’t reacting solely to the comment, because he was staring straight at Natsu as he spoke. She could imagine that while Natsu’s tone was light, he was probably giving the bartender a menacing glare. Ugh!

Annoyed at Natsu’s interjection, Lucy grabbed her drink in a huff and started to walk away without looking behind her. “I don’t need a knight,” she huffed. But undeterred, Natsu immediately stepped in and tried to weave an arm around her waist. “Don’t get familiar,” she seethed in a hushed tone as she stepped out of his embrace. She didn’t want to cause a scene either, so she pulled him away from the crowd near the bar area to a quieter section. “What do you want Dragneel?”

“It’s improper for a woman like you to be without an escort at these events.”

Lucy placed a hand on her cocked hip in irritation. So, what if that were true, those traditions made her skin crawl. She normally would have brought one, but her go-to guy wasn’t available and since most of the guests knew who she was, Lucy figured they wouldn’t care. Why would a bunch of old guys not want a gorgeous blonde to look at? “I’m perfectly fine by myself considering I’m an invited guest. What are you doing here, this isn’t your playground.” She knew the world of corporate Tokyo and business stiffs were not the type he’d associate with. Though she had to unconsciously admit Natsu looked good in a three-piece suit.

“Be nice kitten, I was invited too.”

“Oh yeah, by who? I know Katsunuma’s not involved with the Yakuza.”

“Not senior, the son. Boy’s got a bit of a habit along with his friends.”

“Ah, let me guess, you’re the supplier.”

“You guessed right, kitten.”

“Stop calling me kitten!”

The irritation in her voice only succeeded in pulling a smirk from Natsu. He was obviously enjoying this dance, which fueled Lucy’s determination to not be swayed by it. She took a sip of her drink in annoyance. “Shouldn’t you check on your client then?”

“What for? Those rich brats partying on daddy’s dime make for disinteresting conversation. I’d much rather talk to you.”

“Lucky me,” Lucy rolled her eyes. “Well, I’d rather schmooze with my clientele. They serve a purpose, you do not.”

Natsu reached out and ran a finger along Lucy’s arm. “So harsh, kitten. We both know you’re enjoying this too.”

The ripple he triggered along her skin and increase in temperature had Lucy internally reeling, though the dead stare she wore on her face showed the opposite reaction. She wasn’t about to admit to a damn thing! “Uh-huh, keep telling yourself that Dragneel. Perhaps one day your dreams will come true.”

“I’m counting on it.”

“Ugh!” Lucy pushed him away in annoyance. “You’re too much! I’m leaving.” She turned her back.

“Oi,” Natsu grabbed her arm forcefully and spun her back around. “I mean it!” he growled in a lowered voice. “You may be damn good at what you do, but you still got a thing or two to learn about a man’s world.”

“What the fuck are you talking about,” Lucy spat back in a hushed tone. “These guys don’t care!”

“You think they’d say it to your face, kitten? I’d overheard more than one of your so-called prospects here gossiping about your shameful behavior and you’ve only been here fifteen minutes.”

“You’re lying.”

His eyes narrowed and brows furrowed. “I’m a lot of things, but you know I wouldn’t lie to you.”

Okay, so that was true. Lucy’s known Natsu long enough to know when and if he’d ever lie to her. Still, “fine!” She seethed. “I won’t plan on staying much longer if I’m stuck with you.”

“Aww,” he defiantly tipped her chin up. “But I’ll take such good care of you.”

“Pfft,” she glared back with a twisted smile and voice dripping with sarcastic disdain. “As if. You couldn’t satisfy me then, so… what makes you think you could now?”

“Wow…” Natsu placed a hand over his heart feigning pains and groaning for effect. “Hitting me where it hurts, Luce.” He then grinned and suddenly pulled her flush against his solid body, arm wrapped around her waist, while the other gripped tightly to her hip so she couldn’t move. He leaned in, his face lowered and hovering over her ear. “If only it were true. All those nights… I lost track of how many times you called my name to the heavens.”

Between the sensually deep tone of Natsu’s voice and warm breath fanning over her skin, Lucy couldn’t hide her physiological reactions if she’d tried. Her body stiffened up, fighting a hormonal urge to give in with a sheer determination not to play his game. There was a damn good reason they’d broken up, and until he admitted to what went wrong, there was no way in hell Lucy would go back to him.

“It’s not just about sex,” she gritted out.

“I know…” Natsu let his lips brush against her ear, pulling a shiver from her body. He smirked. “It’s about love.”

Love?! How dare he! Whatever spell he was close to casting instantly dissolved on Lucy and her anger boiled to the surface. She pushed with all of her might, forcing them apart. Oh, she was furious! “And that’s something you know nothing about!” Lucy’s hand flew up faster than even she knew it was happening, landing a loud slap across Natsu’s face. “You made your choice long ago, and love never factored in,” she seethed then stomped away leaving the man alone and speechless amongst whispering bystanders.

So much for celebrating, not after Natsu’s intrusion into the affair. Lucy thanked Katsunuma again for inviting her and left the party. She couldn’t be around Natsu for another second or she just might hit him again. Ugh! He made her so angry! Love… seriously?! He had no right to pull that on her, not when it was his decision that lead to their split. In a way she should thank him for opening her eyes, because that’s what lead to creating her own organization. Lucy wanted to show that women could do just fine in the underworld with the right people and the right plans in place. And she hadn’t been the only one to feel that way. This was the modern era and all the bullshit, patriarchy rules that held them back needed to die with the twentieth century. The saddest part… Lucy didn’t even know if Natsu realized how much he’d hurt her all those years ago.

“Ma’am,” the valet snapped Lucy out of her thoughts. “Your car has arrived.”

“Thank you.” Lucy stepped closer to the curb as the vehicle pulled up alongside her. The valet opened the door for her, but just as she was about to step in, she heard her name called from behind her.

“Natsu, can’t you take a hint!” She turned and snapped while still keeping a hand on the vehicle.

“Luce, I was just playing with you upstairs. I didn’t mean to make you so angry.”

“Well, you did.”

“I don’t understand why!”

“And that’s your problem.”

“But I don’t want you to hate me, and you seem to hate me.”

Lucy sighed from the sheer emotional exhaustion. “I don’t hate you, Natsu. But until you can figure out why I left you, we don’t have anything more to talk about. Now. Good night.” She got into the vehicle, and they drove away.

Once they were out of sight, Lucy slumped down into the seat holding back the cloud of tears building in her eyes. She’d meant what she said, all of it including not hating him. Frankly, she didn’t know if she could. Anger, yes, but hatred no. They’d been young but even she recognized the connection she had to Natsu wasn’t something she could easily walk away from, and she also knew he wasn’t lying when he’d brought up love. The man’s reaction to seeing her flirt with the bartender was a reminder of his feelings for her. But it wasn’t enough. Lucy didn’t want to feel like an unequal partner in the relationship and that’s exactly what the Yakuza world Natsu chose expected.

“Home, miss?”

“Yes, please take me home.”

[bokunoheroanalysisforthefuture]

The second and third obstacles! And Mei’s first big showing, because of course. 

[No. 25 - In Their Own Quirky Ways]

Ochako, Tsuyu, and Mina are all standing still, staring at the next obstacle as Present Mic announces it. He calls the first barrier ‘a piece of cake,’ the notes that for the second, you fall and you’re out, so you have to crawl across if you want to make it. The obstacle, oh, nothing big, just the fucking Grand Canyon with the bottom encased in the goddamn void:

Despite all reasonable reservations about crossing, Tsuyu takes the leap (metaphorically) and starts creeping along one of the ropes, calling it a giant tightrope. She giggles to herself, saying this is her chance to make a splash. (God, a girl after my heart, I love her sense of humor between this and the USJ.)

Next we are introduced to our resident spark - I mean support course student, Hatsume Mei (abet we don’t get her name yet here, but she’s emphasized enough that it’s obvious she’s gonna be important soon.) He’s cackling a bit maniacally, talking about how it’s time for her support items to get the spotlight, calling out to the national support companies to look at her wire arrow and hover soles - the items she just so happens to be wearing, along with a few other gadgets.

Ochako realizes Mei is in the support course, while Mina is shocked that she’s allowed to have her gear. Mei points out to them that the hero course students get practical battle training, right? So in the interest of fairness, as long as they developed the gear themselves, using equipment’s just fine! In fact, for the support course students, it’s the greatest opportunity to show off their inventiveness and craftmanship to the industry! 

Mei cackles some more as she shoots off her hookshot - I mean wire arrow, the end impacting and catching on one of the pillars with a klang. Mei leaps off of the side of the canyon, again calling out to all the corporations to check out her ‘adorable babies’ while clicking on a button on her devise that starts reeling her in, as well as activates the hover function of her boots. Ochako and Mina are fired up, Ochako rushing to chase after while Mina continues to complain about it being unfair. 

Shinsou, meanwhile, is being a little bit creepy, just watching on with a slight leer as he just says ‘cool.’ Wonder what he’s doing here… hmm…

Up in the announcers’ booth, Mic states how they have all types trying to make it big in the sports festival. Aizawa, meanwhile, is just annoyed ay why ‘those idiots’ (re: the students probably) stopped moving. We then shift over to Shouto just reaching the other end of the canyon, with Mic announcing as such to the crowds.

Of course, it’s not so easy as that. Even as SHouto starts building up more ice to start pushing ahead, Katsuki is blasting in from above. Katsuki calls out, refusing to stay behind any longer, while Shouto just thinks that with how fired up Katsuki is now, he must be a slow starter. Which, man, I don’t even know if that’s just an observation about the quirk or if that was intended as a savage shot, but either way, I’m cackling.

We see Tenya somewhere behind Katsuki, watching the explosions as he pushes on. He says it’s very likely his brother is also watching, so he musn’t show an unsightly performance… 

he says as he does a T-pose to skid across the ropes with his quirk. Mic calls it unsightly, which like, dude, rude. Also, how did he know what Tenya even said there? I guess it’s just a little thing for the sake of humor, like the ‘drawn differently’ jokes for All Might. 

The crowds watching on are impressed with the performance of Shouto, talkin about how he just can’t be stopped. How quirk is awesome, but it’s not just that - he’s also incredibly athletic and perceptive. Someone else agrees, then points out how he’s the son of the flame hero, Endeavor. The first person(?) says that makes sense, the kid’s got the blood of the number two hero out there, after All Might. The pros are gonna be scrambling to get him as their sidekick.

Can I just say this is a very interesting panel here. Like there’s no reason we immediately know about to have it divided in two like this, but any amount of retrospect with what we learn later this arc makes it obvious: this is representing the internal divide Shouto places on his two sides, separating his fire from his ice. I also like how the mention of Endeavor here also happens to be on the fire side, further drawing attention to it and, subsequently, the scar there.

The scar that, incidentally, can be considered Endeavor’s fault.

I’m sure there’s a whole lot more Shouto and Todoroki family meta that can be shoved in here when analysing this panel, but we have things to do, events to see, arcs to get through! 

Present Mic announces how the leads keep breaking ahead, while the rest of the pack is bunched up. Since the racers don’t know how many will get to move on, all they can do is aim for first place! And the leader has just reached the final barrier - that is to say… the minefield.

...wait a second, ‘a deadly Afghan carpet’? Uhm, is that a translation thing, or… what a strange reference to make here. While it’s hard to make out the locations of mines from this page (at least to me), Present Mic confirms in his announcements that a quick glance should be enough to reveal it to the students, so they need to keep both eyes open and watch their steps. By the way, the mines don’t pack a deadly punch, but they’re loud and flashy enough that the kids might need a change of underwear when it’s over. Aizawa adds on that it depends on the individual, of course.

Meanwhile, back on the ropes, we see Izuku crawling along almost like a chameleon, the armor plating strapped to his back with some of the loose wire. In the background we see Shouji gliding from one of the pillars with his arms out wide, and another student  Naruto running across the wire like a champ.

You go, Naruto runner guy. 

Back with the landmines, we see Shouto realize that the positioning of the landmines puts whoever is in the lead at a disadvantage, since none of the mines have gone off yet, ergo meaning the highest chance of setting one off and losing time to the distraction. It’s all a big show, which I mean, you’re only just realizing this? Meanwhile, in the background, we see another student get blown into the air from one of the mines, and yet another (I think Ojiro???) struggling to follow. 

Katsuki, of course, decides to show up then, finally blowing past Shouto while stating how ‘this crap’ can’t slow him down. Which I mean, makes sense when his whole thing is explosions, these landmines really can’t be all that impressive to him. Katsuki declares that Shouto’s declaration of war was to the wrong person.

Present Mic gleefully announces the new leader, telling the mass media to get excited, since they love this kind of turn-around. (Definitely not a subtle dig at them, no sir.) He then announces how the rest are catching up while Katsuki seems determined to fight Shouto right where they are - Tenya has blasted himself forward with one of the mines, looking very silly, while Ibara is using her vines to test the ground around her (I think?) to allow safe passage. 

Gotta go fast (do do do do do do do…)

While Present Mic wonders if the two grappling for first can hold onto their lead, we see Izuku standing at the start of the field, watching the other students rush ahead. Tokoyami is again launching himself into the air with his quirk, Kirishima is just carefully picking his way through, and I can’t tell enough about the other students to see if they’re 1a or not, so… 

Izuku worries about how wide the field is, while we get to see just how many people are ahead of him on the field. However, Izuku seems to have a plan, looking around him. As the others rush onwards, and as Shouto and Katsuki fight with each other, we see Izuku hard at work doing something he says is taking a page from Kacchan’s book. He thinks about how he can still catch up as he throws himself forward onto a bunch of unearthed landmines, the plate under him and between him and the inevitable explosion. 

Nice. 

Izuku is sent flying over everyone’s heads from the force of it, much to everyone’s shock. Shouto and Katsuki both look back to see what caused it, while Mic wonders what could have caused such a blast, and whether it was accidental or intentional. As Toshinori throws his arms up in the air (panic or excitement?), we get one last look at Izuku, wearing a very determined expression as Present Mic announces his riding the wave in hot pursuit.

And with that, chapter 25 is done! What a point to leave off at. Next time, we finish the race, get to see placements, and (I think) we get the announcement for the second event. See y’all then!

[elitegymnastics]

Q: What is this?

A: It’s a flyer for a virtual fundraiser on June 4th that Elite Gymnastics is playing. You can access the show at quietyear.com

Q: Hasn’t Elite Gymnastics been inactive for like, ten years?

A: Yes. This is the first Elite Gymnastics performance of any kind since November 30th 2012, at the Horn Gallery at Kenyon College in Gambier, Ohio. 

Q: Why did Elite Gymnastics stop playing shows?

A: Elite Gymnastics started out as me (Jaime) and a bunch of my friends agreeing to help me play my songs live back in 2009. I made a lot of weird demos in GarageBand and my friend Dominique Davis from the band Dearling Physique got tired of watching me sit on them. So, he booked me to play at a show he was curating as part of a small local music and arts festival called Clapperclaw. For several months that’s mainly what EG was. At some point the focus shifted to making recordings rather than playing shows, to participate in the emergent culture of new music distributed via MP3 file-sharing. The lineup winnowed to just me and Josh Clancy, who began creating digital EPs that we posted on this Tumblr page as ZIP files full of MP3s accompanied by a PDF of artwork. This is the incarnation of the group that most people are familiar with.

This was before Patreon existed. If Bandcamp was around, we’d never heard of it. Though MP3 file-sharing culture and file transfer sites like MediaFire and MegaUpload allowed anyone to distribute music freely across the world via the internet, it was still pretty difficult to get people to pay you for it. I think it was for this reason that a lot of internet music back then featured a lot of sampling. A lot of artists’ first forays into the world of DAWs and production took the form of mash-ups, bootleg remixes, and DJ mixes. Artists like Animal Collective, MIA, Kanye West, and Daft Punk for whom sampling was a pillar of their creative process were extremely influential. Elite Gymnastics was no exception - the first song of ours to gain traction online was “Is This On Me?” which made no attempt to hide the fact that it heavily sampled Faye Wong’s “Eyes On Me.” The fact that it was so difficult to make money off MP3s pushed people to make different creative decisions than they would have otherwise. It was sort of a free-for-all.

Eventually, all of this started to change. The major labels started getting a lot more aggressive about trying to destroy MP3 file-sharing culture. Platforms like MegaUpload were raided and taken offline. The replacements that sprung up to replace them were increasingly infested with ads and malware. Corporate platforms like YouTube and SoundCloud adopted Content ID filters to prevent the proliferation of copyrighted music there. Blogs and private torrent trackers being taken down meant thousands of hours of labor were wiped out in an instant. Some of the best archives of the history of recorded music ever created were destroyed without hesitation. Even the most devoted participants lost the will to keep repairing and re-making the stuff that cops and record companies kept obliterating.

Josh and I both dreamed of being able to make a living as musicians. We still do. Back then, we were willing to accept a lot of changes in order to make that possible, which seemed necessary. A lot of the stuff that we were great at just didn’t make any money. Once, we were asked to do a remix of a song called “Sa Sa Samoa” by the band Korallreven. I did the remix by myself, which was normal for us, and Josh was so inspired by it that he spent a week working non-stop to create a video for it. People loved it - the day the video dropped, Pitchfork designated the song as a “Best New Track” and New York Magazine wrote about it in their “Approval Matrix.” The video led to a ton of exposure, but from a financial perspective, it just did not make sense to put that much effort into promoting a remix of someone else’s song. The stuff we were personally excited by just seemed to have less and less to do with what actually makes money.

A lot of internet bands during this era began to palpably shapeshift in an effort to succeed in music as a career. Artists who’d first attracted notice for sample-based bangers they made on a laptop started posing with vintage hardware in their press photos and trading in their laptops for live bands and recording studios. It became harder to distribute DJ mixes or mash-ups that contained copyrighted music in them. Influential bloggers either closed up shop or were absorbed into the traditional music industry in some way. Feeds that once touted bizarre songs by laptop-toting weirdos with no industry connections started to become populated mostly by artists with labels and publicists. The bottom rungs of festival lineups started to consist mostly of new major label signings who have lots of money to spend on stage production but not much in the way of grassroots fan enthusiasm or media buzz. 

Internet music and what people tend to refer to as “indie music” split off into two separate streams. Today, there’s a pretty intense firewall between internet culture and whatever you want to call the culture of vinyl records, mid-sized indie labels with publicists, and positive reviews from the few remaining websites that still pay people to write about music. I call it “publicist indie,” “lifestyle techno,” or “prestige electronica” depending on whether or not the music features guitars and/or vocals. The recent online kerfuffle about NFTs really emphasized this split. The worlds of digital illustration and game development campaigned aggressively against mass adoption of cryptocurrency - if you saw any Medium posts explaining crypto’s environmental issues, chances are they were written by someone from those fields. Every new announcement by an artist that they had minted an NFT was met with a swift and vocal backlash from fans. Though I’ve never really been much of an Aphex Twin fan, it was still pretty startling to look at the replies under his NFT announcement tweet and see hundreds of furious people announcing that he was now dead to them. That’s an artist who has seemed more or less unimpeachable for most of my life up until this point! All of that seemed to change in an instant.

There is a massive disconnect between the insular world of the industry establishment and the cutting edge of online counterculture. We saw this again a couple of weeks ago with the online response to the crisis in Gaza. We saw passionate advocacy for Palestinians from games journalists and developers much more often than we saw it from musicians. This is a very serious problem for music! I do not believe it is possible to please both sides - that is to say, I do not believe it is possible to be part of internet counterculture and the industry establishment simultaneously. The music industry is too conservative, too compromised, too corrupt. If it weren’t for the ocean of valuable copyrights that labels are sitting on, most of them would be bankrupt within a year. If the industry was forced to live or die based on how they handle what’s happening right now in the present, it would most assuredly die. The only people who don’t realize this are those who are being paid to stay ignorant. 

Josh and I did not know this back then. From where we were standing, it looked like internet culture and established media industries were on track to converge. A career in the arts seemed genuinely, tantalizingly possible, right up until the moment that it no longer did. 

In my case, I had really been struggling up until that point. My life had been this ongoing sequence of evictions and hospitalizations, and it seemed to be getting worse, not better. I donated plasma twice a week to pay for groceries and while I was sitting there with a giant needle stuck in my left arm for an hour I would see my picture in The Fader or my songs being recommended by one of the Kings of Leon on Twitter or whatever. Music seemed like the only thing the world thought I was any good at. It felt like my only chance at a peaceful, happy life was somewhere out there in a world I could only perceive through a laptop screen. 

Gender, for me, was a big factor in all of this. The more invested in the craft of songwriting I became, the harder it was to repress or ignore my gender stuff. At that time I’m not sure I even knew what the word “transgender” meant - I just knew that when I showed up at a venue wearing a skirt, no one would talk to me or look me in the eye, and that reading about people like Anohni or Terre Thaemlitz or on the internet made me feel like if I could get out of Minneapolis maybe I could find a place where people would accept me. The internet was like, a pretty toxic place for someone in my position. When I tried to find people to talk to about what I was feeling, nobody tried to tell me to read Judith Butler or ask me what pronouns I preferred. The internet was just like, overrun with predators who just wanted to fetishize me and exploit me. Music seemed like the only way I’d ever have an actual life as myself. I was desperate for that. I was well and truly desperate.

Between all the big changes that were happening to us individually and the music industry moving farther and farther away of the anarchic free-for-all of MP3 file-sharing culture, the strain on us just got to be too much. We stopped trusting each other. We became the unstoppable force and the immovable object, crashing haphazardly against one another’s resolve in a dazzling display of youthful futility. Our partnership ended, and after finishing out the remaining live shows on the calendar by myself, I retired the name “Elite Gymnastics” and started making music on my own under other names. That was that.

Q: Why is Elite Gymnastics coming back now, then?

A: Over the years, Josh and I eventually started talking again. Though there was a lot we did agree on, and potential future projects were discussed, nothing truly felt right. We haven’t been in the same room since Summer 2012, and we’ve both changed a lot since then. We both have other projects and we’ve both developed other ways of working since we stopped working together. It’s a pretty big commitment to put all of that aside in order to join your fortunes together with someone you haven’t seen in a decade.

Recently, Josh decided to leave Elite Gymnastics. His reasons are his own, and I was very surprised by his decision, but after having had time to adjust, I’m really grateful to him. I had kept these songs at a distance for many years, because it seemed foolish to allow myself to get too attached to songs I didn’t feel like I was allowed to think of as mine, if that makes any sense. The songs felt like casualties of a conflict that I had to bury in the ground and try to forget about. Being able to embrace them again felt like re-growing a severed limb or having a loved one come back to life, almost. Feeling like it was safe to love these songs again made me feel whole in a way I didn’t expect to. I became really excited by the prospect of revisiting them, so that’s what I decided to do.

Q: Does this mean you’re going to put RUIN back on Spotify?

A: No. Taking the record off Spotify was the right thing to do. That record was only ever intended to exist during the era of MP3 piracy. I never envisioned a world where the music industry would be so aggressive about policing the way that copyrighted music is allowed to exist online. If we hadn’t opted to take the record down when we did, someone would inevitably have forced us to. If you want to hear those specific recordings again, you’re going to have to do it the way we originally intended: by downloading MP3 files from the internet. Try SoulSeek.

Q: What’s next for Elite Gymnastics, then?

A: Here’s the situation currently. There is no Elite Gymnastics music available to stream or purchase in an official capacity anywhere on the internet. It wouldn’t really be possible for me to put the old stuff on Spotify or Bandcamp now because of all the samples. Like I said before, it was a different time. Those records were created to thrive on a past version of the internet that no longer exists. They weren’t designed to be compatible with the 2021 internet.

Technically, Elite Gymnastics didn’t ever release a debut album. We had EPs, a compilation, and a remix collection. We didn’t make an album, a record that existed as the distillation of all that experimentation that contained all of the songs that fans of the EPs would want to hear, all in one place. It’s like we did Good Fridays but stopped before we made My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy.

So, I am currently working on the first Elite Gymnastics album. If you were following my stuff as Default Genders, you may have noticed me posting demos on my SoundCloud page from 2015-2018 that were all eventually reworked into the album Main Pop Girl 2019. The album I am making is taking that approach to all the old EG songs, including some unreleased stuff. I’m collaborating with others on some songs and I honestly feel like it has resulted in some of the best and most exciting music I have ever been involved with. It is a drastic reinvention, but iteration and reinvention have always been a big part of what I do. I want to make something that feels like the culmination of everything that came before, and so far, I think I’m succeeding.

Q: When will I be able to hear this new music?

At a virtual fundraiser on June 4th, 2021, where there is a suggested donation of $10. You can access it at quietyear.com

[breathings-of-the-heart]

Imagine Levi Confessing his Love for You

A/N: THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT PLEASE READ THE TEXT BELOW BEFORE PROCEEDING THANK YOU :))

HERE IS A TIMELINE /  EXPLANATION / BACKGROUND INFORMATION BECAUSE CASE THE TIME SKIPS OF THIS STORY ARE CONFUSING: I’m sorry for that everyone, I know the dates are sloppy and as a whole this fic doesn’t make too much sense; I tried to edit this piece as best I could to make the story as easy to follow as possible, but seeing as I can’t unpublish part 1 or 2, the cleanup still leaves things bit unclear. These imagines were originally chapters of a longer Levi x Reader fic that I decided to discontinue, which is why there are so many loose ends. Here was my original intention for this story, broken down for the few who choose to read the Author’s Notes lol.

We are going to do this in the order of the 3 part fic (I also put attached all the links to the titles)

Part 1: Imagine Relating to Mikasa About Loving Someone in the Military

The scene is set during the events of SEASON 1 of Attack on Titan, BEFORE the Female Titan Arc. (Y/N) was also hand selected by Levi to be part of the original Special Operation Squad; she bit her hand at the dinner table along with Petra, Gunther, Eld, and Oluo to show their dedication and understanding towards Eren wayyy back in the beginning of the series. The Survey Corps is making preparations for their first attempt to go to Shiganshina since the Fall of Wall Maria and not only uncover the mole who killed captive titans Sonny and Bean, but also to get to Eren’s basement.

Part 2: To Love Another

The flashback and opening scene in the beginning of this writing piece (where (Y/N) and Hange are talking to each other) occurs shortly after (Y/N) wakes up in the infirmary room, before anyone breaks the news that she, aside from an injured Levi, is the last surviving member of Squad Levi after Annie killed the others in the Forest of Giant Trees in her female titan form. Hange’s intentions were to bring the (Y/N) and Levi together so they would be able to support each other during this mutual loss. But alas, (Y/N) accepts his rejection and the two suffer the aftermath of this tragic news alone. To read this arc for context/bonus content to get a better understanding of this mini series, see my posts (as a sort of prequel, if you will) Imagine Levi Finding you Injured on an Expedition and Imagine Being the Last Member of Squad Levi To Survive to fill that time gap :)

In real-time, all of Season 2 and Season 3 Part 1 have gone by with limited interaction between (Y/N) and Levi. This part of the story is occurring during Season 3 PART 2, (spoilers) after the Coup D'etat, and after Historia becomes Queen. (Y/N) is no longer an active soldier, having sustained injuries too severe to be reliable in combat. She remains useful to the Corps as a battle strategist, however, which allows her to stay. The Scouting Regiment is currently preparing to go to Eren’s basement in their second attempt, knowing Reiner and Berthold will be waiting for them there.

Part 3: Imagine Levi Confessing his Love for You (YOU ARE HERE)

This part takes place pretty much a week or so after the events of “To Love Another.” It is revealed how much (Y/N) has isolated herself in the months between Parts 1 and 2 from not only Levi, but Hange, the only one besides Mikasa who knew about her feelings for Levi prior to their falling out. (Y/N) confesses her feelings for Levi before the mission to Shiganshina in Season one, and the fic parallels itself and comes full circle once their final interaction occurs before the second and final mission to Shiganshina, for which, (Y/N) is unable to go for her death would be almost certain. She seen to be more valuable inside the walls, where she can carry on the duties of the Survey Corps should the entire regiment collapse during the mission. This is the final part :)

I HOPE THAT CLEARS THINGS UP!

requested by @a-single-uwo @dracq and @little-diva-gurl and a lovely anon who def isn’t the happiest that this took so long. Deepest apologies! Hope this was worth the wait. I also hope this post finds everyone safe and in good health during these crazy times <3

~~~~~

Dread bottled up in the bottom of your stomach, which threatened to fall down to your knees. Even Hange’s eyes brimmed with concern when she informed you that Levi requested your presence in his office; all of which was out of the blue, uncharacteristic, after months of him being accustomed to giving you your space.

Feigning annoyance, you stared at the soldier dummy two paces ahead, dented heavily with the marks of your punches. The sun was beating down on the early autumn day, and heat waves rose from the ground. It illuminated the glistening perspiration sliding down your figure, torso rising and falling in short breaths of exhaustion.

Hange watched you carefully from a distance. She noticed your tense muscles, clad in a sports bra and boxing shorts; the lack of attire made it impossible to hide the sudden tension and stiffness embedded in your lean muscles, a tell tale sign of distress. As a creature of observation and analytics, the Squad Leader could sense your discomfort as if it was written across your forehead.

The brunette watched you wipe the sweat off your forehead and yell in frustration, turning towards her direction and moving to land a kick at her head.

Unfazed and in possession of sharp reflexes, Hange took a step back, only to watch as you twisted mid-air and landed a 360 Crescent kick to the dummy-shaped bag, which broke open on impact under the force of the blow. Sand poured out of its opening and spilled onto the ground in a steady stream that grew less heavy as the seconds passed.

“I’ll have to admit, you are getting better, but (Y/N), don’t get your hopes up,” Hange cautioned. “The problem does not reside in your muscles. No matter how well you learn to fight like you used to, Annie crushed your ribs and threw you to the ground: it's your lungs that will never recover. You can’t come with us to Shiganshina tomorrow like this.”

Hunched over with hands on your knees, you regained a regular breathing pattern and began to feel the explosive pain in your chest. Airways blocked, you began coughing, willing the oxygen to enter your body.

“Let me humor myself, Hange-san. If I don’t try, I might go insane.”

It was almost tragic that such a young soldier was out of commission; you were full of promise, rivalling Mikasa in skill. Hange knew you were itching to do what you trained for your whole life: Coming to Shiganshina and putting it all on the line had always been your number one goal. You didn’t want to be left behind again, to die bitter and alone without the only people you cared about.

“Regardless, (Y/N), you’re stalling,” Hange smoothly shifted the topic of conversation back to what brought her to you in the first place. “He still has that power over you, huh?”

"It'll pass eventually," you sighed, hoping the words were true.

You bowed towards the tall female. She smiled in return, shaking her head softly.

Whilst pacing away, said person stopped you once more.

“(Y/N). For what it’s worth, I stand by what I said before. Don’t look so nervous, okay?”

Her words replayed in your head, a haunting ghost of the not-so-long ago past. Time was strange, that way. It seemed like everything happened yesterday yet in another lifetime, all at once. “He loves you, more than he’s ever loved anyone. Surely you know that.”

Stupid, you thought, how I might have believed it once.

As you made your way down the hall, numbness crept into your body once again. You were too proud to admit you were afraid, especially with the Section Commander’s radiating sympathy, but everyone knew the once friendly dynamic between you and the Captain transformed into one more distant and cold. With each step towards the door, you felt the icy chill grow and that fact alone shook you to the core. 

But it didn’t matter, seeing as Levi was of superior authority. There was no way around it.

Your hand shook as it raised to knock.

~~~~~~

“Name and business,” Levi spoke, voice muffled by the closed door.

“It’s (Y/N), sir. I was hoping to speak with you.”

There was a pause, and in that time you considered the option of fleeing back to your room and retreating back to a life of emotional safety, normality. It wasn’t too late to forget.

It had been a week since you spoke to Mikasa on the rooftop, after realizing the deep shit your heart decided to put you in. You didn’t think Levi would notice the distracted nature of your behavior-- tried to make it as subtle as possible whilst you figured out what you felt for him. 

But before you could explore other options, Levi muttered a stern “enter.” You knew with the first expedition back to Shiganshina tomorrow, and the prospect of death closer than it has ever been on a mission, it was now or never. 

The room was dim, small, warm, and thick with building tension. Shadows danced across the Captain’s face, sharp features lit by an orange flame. Only candlelight, sourced at his desk, assisted your adjusting eyes. 

Your nose was hit with the smell of tea and cleaning products upon entry. This fact made you smile despite your bundling nervous energy. It was a familiar place, filled with memories of late night conversations (granted, of mostly you speaking and him listening), witnessed only by the large piles of paperwork. It started here and resulted in a natural, growing fondness kept secret to all except you two and the moon looking in from the window. 

This man was your squad leader, your commander, your trusted comrade. There was no need to be afraid-- Not unless of course, you held the potential to shatter such damn a delicate relationship.

And you did. 

Was it worth it?

Your gaze gravitated towards the center of the room where the Lance Corporal sat. And in that instant, your smile evaporated instantly. He placed his pen down, gracefully resting his cheek on his fist and lazily tossing the raven locks out of his eyes-- they landed on you, piercing yet drowsy and indifferent upon first glance. He was beautiful, as always. The allure was nearly sickening; unfair to the rest of the world.

Looking closer, however, he was anything but relaxed. The observant eye could see his countenance stirred something different. He seemed sharp and focused, ready to dart out and wrap himself around your heart, squeezing tighter with every breath you took. And you felt it-- the heart palpitations, which got worse at the sight of him.

He seemed… different. Dangerous, like a storm stirring in the distance, and the inevitable downpour that comes with it. The dark circles under his eyes told tales about the insomnia; a fresh cup of caffeinated black tea even rested on his left, steam rising out of it. And whilst attraction was undeniable, your concern always came first.

Levi was never quite good at getting proper rest before a mission.

“(Y/N),” The word was breathy, yet his voice was rough.

You shuffled in your spot, your name on his tongue making your stomach churn with desire.

Levi seemed to pick up on your affliction, getting out of his chair and gliding towards you. Everything happened fast and slow all at once, starting off with a momentaneous rush of air and  the collision of your back with the office wall. A small shriek filled the air, out of place against the silence; was that your voice? The pain should’ve been there, but it wasn’t.

Then the seconds dragged out. Levi was a new person, setting your skin aflame as he gripped your wrists and pinned them against the wall. His lips brushed your eartips, which turned red the instant the raven’s breath fanned over them. This normally reserved, disciplined man unleashed something you had never seen before.

“Finally ready to talk to me about why you’ve been acting so strange, brat?” he whispered.  

This wasn’t supposed to be so dirty. He was angry, but the mood was established in layers: something more sinister existed beneath.

The scent of fresh pine filled your nostrils until your brain went foggy. Levi was close--so close, and with the fact that you’ve been avoiding him mixed in with the fact that you missed him for it, all bets were off: there was no stopping the words that came out of your mouth next.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” you whispered back, looking him dead in the eyes, no fear this time.

His grip on your wrist slackened.

“Hm?”

You took in a deep breath, ready to leave it all on the line, and spoke.

“I like you a lot, sir. And not in a comradery type of way. I-I just thought I’d tell you before, you know, we leave tomorrow.” Your gaze found the floor again, too timid for your own good. But the statement was said, and it was finite; there was no turning away from it.

The Captain’s eyes went wide and gleamed brightly at you. His chest felt lighter and as he looked down at you in speechless awe, staring at anything but his face in your adorable embarrassment, he realized exactly why your absent look irked him those days ago. Why your lack of enthusiasm and lighthearted-ness gave him a strange sense of frustration. 

Levi never felt more awake, more hyper aware of his surroundings. 

The feeling of your chest pressed against him, the heat of those rosy cheeks, the pounding within his ribcage, the moon hitting your pretty face. With your figure in his arms, after the blissful seconds passed, everything felt, for once, okay.

Until it wasn’t.

Gaining the courage to look back up at him, you all but tore apart at the scowl on his face as demons flitted through his beautiful brain and polluted the image of happiness. Levi grew more indignant by the second, all but throwing your arms he held back at your sides like they were poison to the touch. 

Tears pooled in your eyes as the soft expression you didn’t get to see turned sour, disgusted-- the Captain’s lips curling into a snarl as he imagined what he could lose if he opened up his heart for this girl in front of him to take. The risk and pain of falling for someone, in the world the two of you lived in. And all the stoic man could think was how he allowed this charade to come so far.

No, he wouldn't allow it.

“Get out, (L/N)” he commanded, harsh and unforgiving.

You were trembling, body feeling detached from reality as it moved, convincing itself that it was simply a nightmare. Levi’s cruel demeanor all but shattered you as you looked wide-eyed and his anger grew, the short man pacing behind his desk and bringing a hand over his face. His free one crumpled into a fist, knuckles turning white as he slammed it on the wood, the loud bang making you jump; the fear, grief, confusion coming all at once until it choked you and your vision spotted black.

“I said GET OUT!”

The room stilled and Levi looked up to face you cowering near the door, a single tear rolling down your cheek. He stilled at the sight, the weight of his words dawning upon him.  

“I-I’m sorry,” you gasped before racing out of the room.

Had you looked back, you would’ve seen Levi’s outstretched hand betraying his body, desperately reaching out for you, gray eyes filled with pain.

But you knew now you’d never be dumb enough to spare him that second glance-- and maybe that was the right call, seeing as his feet moved in the direction you left, only to shut the door left askew in your wake.  

~~~

The Captain’s gaze was on you more than necessary, but it was clear the two of you had the same thought: You focused everything into this discussion, melting into the emotionally-detached soldier your duty commanded, just like Levi did. His words had no ulterior motive, no deeper meaning. They were monotonous and empty.

Or so you thought.

Levi stood up the second you came in, but your gaze fell to the ground in submission.

“Hange said you needed to see me, Captain?” your voice was small and weak; you kicked yourself for it. How pathetic.

“Damn you...”

The man said nothing more, brushing his fingers along your cheekbones and you everything hit you like whiplash, the memories. Levi ran them along your face, down to your chin to lift it gently, so that for once you’d let your eyes meet instead of looking at the ground like a coward.

When they did the man’s breath hitched in his throat, because although your (eye color) orbs were no longer as vibrant, they were still beautiful and entrancing; why hadn’t he ever appreciated them before? 

"I missed you, brat," he spoke firmly.

You felt a churn in your abdomen as you watched his eyes study the details of your face and take in every feature, committing it to memory painfully slow. You were paralyzed, his face inches away from yours and forcing buried emotions to resurface as months of restraint came undone. He didn’t speak, holding you delicately after not being this close for far too long and discerning what he’s been missing.  

“Um, Captain? What are you...?"

You bit your lip, feeling puzzled and confused as you remembered the hate in Levi's orbs the last time you saw him like this.

All you could see now was how quickly his emotions shifted from serenity to fury that fateful night, and as you recollected the way Levi lashed out, all chaos and fury, he retracted his hand.

And you flinched away.

The Captain froze.

“Don’t-- don’t fucking do that,” he growled, his urgency startling. “I would never hurt you, (Y/N).”

Your eyebrows furrowed, all inhibition thrown out the window the second Levi’s countenance flashed with hurt at your response to his touch. You let your fear go and emotions free at the irony of the raven’s statement. Your mind went into overdrive, recounting every instance you wanted to give up and leave, drown in yourself, give up on finding purpose in the aftermath of rejection and Squad Levi’s death and your permanent injury changing your way of life. Things you faced alone, because instead of rekindling any semblance of a relationship, Levi tossed everything away and berated you for feeling.

The man who resided here cut your heart expertisely like the countless swords he wielded then disposed. He did not have the right to look at you so kindly; did not have to right to fan the flames of false hope. But here he was, procrastinating until the very last day to take initiative regarding those actions.

“Why are you doing this?” you whispered, forgetting your composure.

“I’d advise you not to speak in riddles,” Levi spoke in a low and even voice, no real malice as he addressed you and tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

You took a deep breath and fought to remain calm, grabbing Levi's wrist to keep him from touching you.

“Please don’t toy with me, or mock my feelings like this. Why did you call me here? You made it plenty clear how you feel about me, Levi. What else is there to say?" you begged, the lack of closure driving you insane.

This was the first time you used his name, an unprecedented amount of spite and pain expressed through it, because you wanted Levi to remember this moment. It was over: that time of feeling sorry and ashamed of yourself for being nothing other than human. The remorse was gone, and the heartache was fleeting.

“Tell me, dammit!”

His was overflowing.

“You want to know how I really feel about you, (Y/N)!?” the Captain shouted, voice rising because for a man who relied on impulse and action on the battlefield it was fucking frustrating, watching the woman in front of him live this way for the simple reason that he was not good with words. "The thoughts that go through my head when you can't even bear to look at me?!"

"No, that's not what I asked. I already know that you don't--"

"--Fuck this."

Relying on instinct to guide him, Levi leaned forward and kissed you.

The second his lips met yours, you melted on the spot, knees giving out beneath you. Tongue sliding into your mouth, Levi simultaneously lifted you into the air, feeling lightheaded as you moaned into him, eagerly returning the kiss. His hands were everywhere, grasping at your waist, clutching the back of your head, running down your thighs. You were in such a state of euphoria that nothing else existed.

Your own digits threaded through Levi’s raven locks and pulled needily, emitting a growl from his throat as he bit down on your lower lip. He reveled in the feeling of your legs around his waist as your soft lips worked against his own, hungry and relentless. The kiss was passionate and you’d imagined it a million times over, but this-- Levi successfully ruined you for any other man.

The need for oxygen pulled you apart, Levi’s strong arms keeping you in the air as his eyes remained shut; he pecked your lips once, then twice, savoring the moment until it mournfully passed.

He was hesitant to break the silence, but you deserved it. You waited long enough to hear the truth, and he knew his time was running out; you weren’t going to wait for him forever.

“(Y/N)...” he began to speak, forehead resting on yours as he panted softly to catch his breath. “I dreamt of you last night. I have been for days.”

“Levi--”

“--Just listen,” he interrupted, unable to stop himself from kissing you softly once more. “Neither of us are running away this time.”

You fell silent as the man let you down, pulling you into his solid chest as you buried your face in his shirt, patiently listening. His calm heartbeat thrummed soothingly in your ears like a metronome.

“Isabel, Farlan, Oluo, Petra, Gunther, Eld. They all knew that what they meant to me. And I them."

One of the only things that made it easier to say goodbye, you thought with a bittersweet pang in your chest.

"With us, it's different. I died in every dream, (Y/N). Every one. And in every single one, you lived on believing I never loved you. Call me selfish, but I...”

You pulled away from the stoic man, searching his gaze as he trailed off. Shyly, you interlaced your fingers, his larger hand enveloping yours and you prayed to whoever was listening upstairs that all of this was real.

“I just can't leave until you understand...”

He clutched you impossibly tighter, eyes squeezing shut.

"...that you, are everything."

~~~ Extended Ending ~~~

A soft hum filled the air, the tune dreamy and sweet as you repeated the melody once again. You smiled warmly as hands wound around your waist, pulling you closer to a toned and shirtless Captain Levi, silken sheets tossed haphazardly on top of the two of you. His breath sent goosebumps on your neck as he kissed your shoulder gently, warmth deliciously intoxicating. 

Giggling now, you turned around to face him, the man’s onyx hair ticking you softly. You captured your lips in his with one smooth movement and snuggled closer, taking in the small slice of heaven that was home in his arms, legs tangled together. Feeling unbelievably content, like your heart might burst, you leaned forward and rubbed your nose against Levi's. 

Although he wasn't smiling, the look he was giving you revealed his own sensation of happiness.

“I never thought you’d be the cuddling type,” you remarked devilishly, scrunching up your nose as you teased him. 

Though your tone was lighthearted, you were painfully aware that the moment was ending. You internally cursed the sun as it started to set, orange light peeking in through the window shades to signal the coming of night. Levi said nothing, looking deeply into your eyes, and like always, it felt as if he could read the contents of your soul. 

But it wasn’t vulnerability you felt: on the contrary, you knew you would never find as safe a place as here. With him. Finally.  

“Levi...” you swallowed, humor all but gone. “Now you have to come home.” 

To emphasize your point you sat up on the bed, legs tucked neatly underneath you as you stared imperatively at your lover. 

“Mhm. We’ve wasted enough time,” he agreed, taking you by the wrist to pull you back on top of him, to bask in this personal paradise if only for another minute. 

[ghirahims-trophyhusband]

all of the purple questions hehehhehe >:3c

Self Ship Ask Meme: Purple Emoji Edition

Rae why must u make me suffer with so many questions ghdjfgdf

I'll do my beloved catboy I feel like I've been ignoring him /lays out a small pile of catnip to lure him back into my house after losing him in the woods for two days bc he chased after a bird

😈: Do you and your F/O have any inside jokes with each other? - Malachite definitely does what I do and calls Sephiroth a catboy and makes dumb cat jokes around him hjkg. (as for myself only, I also call his original model from the OG FFVII my little lego man :> careful, he bites)

👾: Talk a little about your F/O’s source! What is it about? What do you like about it? - In layman's terms (which you desperately need for this game bc dear god it's so much) FFVII is about a group of people who want to stop Shinra, an evil corporation, from destroying the planet by using up all its finite resources to power their city, weapons, you name it. Then an evil catboy decides to show up after presumably dying years ago and the group makes it their mission to take him down bc he wants to become a god by summoning a meteor to hit the planet (long story but it's a given with this game). Along the way the group fight all kinds of monsters, like robots, behemoths, even bigger robots called WEAPONs, that same giant meteor that threatens to collide with and destroy the planet, and an evil catboy turned angel.

As for what I think about it: FFVII is, in the kindest way possible, a confusing clusterfuck that makes things complex for the sake of being complex, continues to be added onto simply bc it's Squeenix's cash cow and so is the reason I ignore every other piece of media in the FFVII universe, save for the game and remake themselves, as they ruin the pre-established characters of the main cast. I do like it, but I prefer the remake overall as I feel like it does a MUCH better job at just. telling the story of FFVII. The OG game is OK, but its age is VERY obvious and I'm playing it more to experience it for myself than to enjoy this dumpster fire this game has the balls to call gameplay LMAO. I appreciate the ambitious nature of the devs, but sometimes there gets a point where it's TOO ambitious. I've had enough of these 'minigames' that are compulsory to do to continue the plot I want OUT.

🦄: Are there any favorite AUs you have for your self ship? - Naturally, there's the story I've crafted between Sephiroth and Malachite, but I also love the story I have for him, Jura, and Ghirahim bc it's fun and dumb and doesn't tackle any serious subjects like my other stories. It's a nice break from it all :>

☔️: What do the two of you do during rainy days? - If it's a light shower, Malachite will drag Sephiroth along with them to stand outside and enjoy it jdfd (he doesn't object though! he enjoys it when he's with Malachite). As for heavy rain, they both prefer to stay inside and (if Sephiroth hasn't disappeared off to do his own thing yet) Malachite will have him sit with them on the sofa and just enjoy his company/being close to him.

🎆: What’s your ideal date with your F/O? - Sephiroth and Malachite don't really go on dates, but the closest they'd get to one is probably exploring the area Malachite now lives in either on their own or with Malachite's behemoth pack close behind.

🔮: After the end of the canon story, what does the future hold for your F/O and S/I? (If they die in canon assume they didn’t in this question) - Once Sephiroth had apologized to Malachite for being a shit who was being incredibly selfish and damaging the relationship bc of it (but he does save them from being harmed/killed bc he does still love them of course), the two are able to see eye to eye again and choose to stay where Malachite lives, which is in the middle of a valley away from people, which is probably the best option to allow Malachite to 'domesticate' Sephiroth so he won't hurt anyone again and also bc putting him in a public place could just end badly fhskfs.

🧬: Do you have any kids with your F/O? If you do, talk about them! If not, what do you think they’d look/act like? - I have never considered the concept of a fankid with Sephiroth (not even what they'd look like past a joke run in Sims 4), be it with Malachite or Jura, bc he just Does Not have the personality to work with a child/as a father lmao. He's too cold, emotionless, and disconnected from reality/other's emotions for me to confidently give him a child. It feels WAY too out of character for him and would only be something I do as a complete joke (like my aforementioned Sims 4 run), not a serious plot point like I did with Ghirahim's son: Nathaniel, as in the context of my SS fic, Ghirahim develops into a father with a LOT of time, effort, and bc I've written the plot in a particular way to make it work. I don't have that benefit with Sephiroth, and even then I wouldn't utilize it for him to be a dad.

💜: Free pass to gush about whatever you like! - Every time I open up the OG FFVII I keep this meme in the corner of my mind in the hopes I'll see more of my little lego man again <3

Also me waiting for part 2 of the remake which will have nice Sephiroth in a flashback before he became a massive asshole like

[botanyshitposts]

whats the deal with proven winners?

okay. so. this is actually how i got into botany in the first place; i got an unpaid internship at a greenhouse in high school and realized, very quickly, that we live in a jurassic park hellscape where big companies breed plants solely for their looks and performance, and i found that so fucking weird that i couldnt get enough of it and fell down the rabbit hole. i don’t find them bad per say; i find them weird and how they manage their product in terms of policing their retailers is very sketchy to me, but they’re not like, monstanto-level off the shits (yet). with mother’s day next weekend we’re coming up on one of the biggest greenhouse/ornamental plant industry sales days of the year, next to valentines’ day (which favors the rose industry especially), so this is an exceptionally convenient time to talk about this. 

proven winners is one of the biggest ornamental plant companies in the united states, possibly the world. you might know them from their patented white flower pots. they’re centered in california (as, actually, a lot of these large flower producers are) and they manage a HUUUUUUGEEE network of giant industrial flower greenhouses. 

like, you have to understand, all garden retailers have to buy their shit from somewhere, and although the centers and local greenhouses selling proven winners stuff are often small and independent (unless ur talking like...flowerama or something), a large portion of the plants themselves, like many things in capitalism, form an industry of their own dominated by a handful of oligarch corporations, of which proven winners is one. small retailers order bulk products from these companies, should it be through full-color paper catalogs (which exist, btw, and are wild in and of themselves to look at; i actually have a few back home that i keep around solely bc they’re incredibly fascinating in a slightly offputting jurassic park kind of way), online, or through a sales representative for their region. 

it depends on what they’re ordering, but they can buy seeds, plugs (the black trays of like....tiny plants you buy at garden centers to put in planters? the ones that come in, like, six packs? those are called ‘plugs’), and in the case of perennials, woody plants of various ages, among other things. these plants are bred, marketed, and sold on a goddamn industrial scale. it’s wild. 

now....this is where it gets absolutely fascinating to me. this isn’t just proven winners, but proven winners is one of the top contenders of this. some highlights of how plants are actually marketed on an industrial scale: 

-plants come out in collections. like, you have horticulturalist designer people who put their names on some stuff and they all go out as like, The New Hot Thing(tm). 

-they always promote their top selling stuff, and the plants that won awards, and like, the most popular flower arrangements and stuff. this in and of itself, again, isn’t like.....bad, it just feels weird how plants are marketed as objects rather than living things, you know?

-these plants are 100% bred and optimized for their commercial value and how they look. see the above point about how it feels like they’re treating them as objects. 

-every year, there are new plants, which are put at the front of the catalogue and like, show them off as the Hit New Products. these are all part of the year’s collective collection, so like, proven winners has their 2019 collection all ready on their site in a special little tab: 

FUN INDUSTRY SIDE STORY: looks like they have some new orange petunias this year, which reminds me fondly of the 2017 purge ordered by the USDA of a ton of illegally GMO orange petunias....

you see, orange petunias don’t exist naturally, so what companies do is either 1. systematically breed orange into them, which can take years, or 2. take red petunias and just put in some coding for yellow from the maize genome, which makes them orange. usually, you have to submit all this paperwork and go through a ton of government red tape to sell GMOs, including required trials conducted by the federal government, but what some of these large ornamental seed companies were doing was just....not telling the government and just kind of...pretending that they bred them. so in 2017, a netherlands team noticed that these were like....kind of Suspicious(tm), and started doing some tests....and accidentally uncovered like, this huge international orange petunia scandal across all these companies, over 30 varieties of illegal petunia being sold internationally. they had to alert the actual EU, which then alerted the USDA, who then gave an actual government order for these large companies to literally burn, bury, or otherwise destroy all their industrial stock of the proven illegal GMO orange petunias. 

small retailers who had bought them assuming that they were legal were allowed to keep and continue selling what they bought, but the actual producers were ordered to just fucking. violently destroy everything. the USDA informed these companies that they could sell them again, but only if they were put through the proper government channels and received proper certification. i checked the old recall list and didn’t see these, so i’m assuming they’re like...Legit, but. im 👀 somebody test these lol

AAANNNNYYway that aside, if you would like to see the Proven Winners 2019 Flower Collection Showcase(tm), they have a bunch of......weird kind of ads on their youtube channel showing artsy pics of their new shit. to this day i can’t pin down exactly what about them makes me feel slightly uncomfortable, but you really do get a sense that they’re selling an object to preform, which i guess is the point, but...idk, it’s just a very different view of plants, i think, then i personally have. very sci-fi-y, if you will. all their ads are like this; these video are essentially very similar to what you get from their print sales booklets, but in video form.

see, last but not least, my biggest beef with proven winners is the weird way they handle their company. 

you get inspected by the plant police.

im not kidding. for those not very familiar with plant reproduction, you can grow vegetative clones of plants through a process called taking cuttings, where you cut off a part of the plant and put it in a new pot under the right conditions, and it develops a root system and becomes a genetic clone to the parent. obviously, anyone can do this with a lot of the proven winners plants, especially because PW plants, as i’ve noticed, tend to be bred to be more vigorous. 

proven winners wants to ensure that there’s no Illegal Plant Downloads taking place, so they literally like....send people out to these small retailers and ask to see their stock to make sure that all the plants are going in the Patented Proven Winners White Pots(tm) with the Patented Proven Winners Information Tags(tm). you MUST plant proven winners stuff in the pots they send you, with the instructions they send you, and they will check you for this. the first time my internship mentor ordered from them, they accidentally planted the plugs in generic brown pots instead of the white ones, and the weird proven winners police rolled in unannounced for an inspection and told them that the next time it happened they wouldn’t sell to them anymore. what they’re worried about happening is that the growers will order a small amount and then just make a bunch of cuttings without paying them, and it’s just......weird. like i get why they do it but that’s always struck me as really, really shady lmao

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Facebook vs The Big Lebowski

Hans de Zwart is a digital rights activist - he used to run the Dutch campaigning group Bits of Freedom - who also happens to be a massive Big Lebowski fan. He created https://www.thebiglebow.ski, a search-engine for Lebowski quotes.

Things were fine until de Zwart started getting user complaints: they couldn't share content from his search engine on Facebook. They got this cryptic error: "Your message couldn’t be sent because it includes content that other people on Facebook have reported as abusive."

In an article for NRC, Reinier Kist recounts the bizarre, kafkaesque journey de Zwart embarked upon to find out why Facebook had classed quotes from The Big Lebowski as "abusive."

https://www.nrc.nl/nieuws/2020/08/03/the-dude-gedupeerd-door-big-tech-a4007753

Every single thing about the story demonstrates Facebook's manifest unsuitability to be in charge of the social lives of 2.6B people.

de Zwart couldn't even ask Facebook to look into it unless he created a FB account first

FB wouldn't allow allow a lower-case "d" in "de Zwart" ("It is the arrogance of a giant American corporation which considers the correct spelling of the names of millions of Dutch people an edge case")

When de Zwart complained to FB, he got another cryptic message telling him not to expect a reply, but thanking him for "his experience"

Then de Zwart registered as a FB advertiser and bought a EUR5 ad for his site, thinking that FB might listen to him if he paid them

The ad was rejected with this error: "this ad contains or refers to content that has been blocked by our security systems (#1885260)" (FB provides no way to look up error 1885260)

To question this, de Zwart had to agree to four unreadable, one-sided legal contracts

When he did this, he got another terse message, thanking him for "helping us improve!"

De Zwart knew that FB - like all Big Tech companies - only ever corrects its mistakes when doing otherwise risks bad publicity.

So he pitched his story to Kist, who called up FB's PR office, and within days, the site was unblocked, with an apology for "the inconvenience." The only explanation? The site was misclassified by automated tools.

De Zwart has published an English translation of Kist's article. The subject matter is trivial, but the underlying message is frankly terrifying: our ability to talk with one another, organize and debate is in the hands of an uncaring giant.

https://medium.com/@hansdezwart/how-the-dude-was-duped-by-big-tech-f1311e097d1b

FB is a company whose monopolistic scale means that it CAN'T moderate well, and also that it doesn't need to. What are you gonna do, use Instagram?

And despite this, regulators keep asking FB to do more automated filtering and more moderating.

They're bad at this. Really bad. When they do this, they end up censoring their users' legitimate speech, and the only people who get a hearing from them are people who know journalists who can threaten them with public humiliation.

If you want to create a fairer and less toxic online communications world, reduce Facebook's monopoly power - don't make them a permanent, incompetent, unaccountable privatized arm of the state.

Asking Mark Zuckerberg to do more of something he sucks at won't make him better at it - it'll just put his legion of traumatized, outsourced moderators on a hair trigger that results in far more dolphins caught in their tuna-nets.

And while famous, privileged and powerful people will be able to get their material sprung from content jail, the marginalized, poor and desperate will have no such access.

(de Zwart never got his 5 euros back)