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#april weekly spread
bobbiprintables · 1 month
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Free April 2024 Printable Weekly Planner Pages
Download Here
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kiyomihauterly · 1 month
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Hii guyss!! Its the last week of march which means last weekly spreed of march🌸✨
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How have you been these past week? Hope you have a good next week!!
Also next week if oficially time for planning april bujo. I have a few ideas but still need time,, might post a poll so you can help me decide😁
Anyway, have some music🤗
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crimson-kas · 1 year
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April weeklies.
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lalal-99 · 2 months
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Sweet Thing {s.c.}
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9 “ That feels good…” 14 “Spread your legs, sweet thing.” 33 “Please, just let me come!"
Changbin x afab!reader | trope: strangers to lovers, regular hookup turns serious | smut | wordcount: 1.8k
Synopsis: You know nothing about the hot guy you've been hooking up with for months. You're not even sure about his name. Obviously, you need to change that. In the middle of sex is probably not the right time, but so what?!
Warnings: explicit content | dni if your under 18
Smut Tags: Porn with Plot | Explicit Sexual Content | Making Out | Hook-up in Bathroom | Bathroom Sex | Fingering (reader rec.) | Oral (reader rec.) | Edging | Overstimulation | Teasing | Some Dirty Talk | Slight Praise Kink | Dom/Sub Undertones (Dom!Changbin) | Mirror Sex
Note: Well, I don't know what to say for myself. The prompt event happened in March/April 2022. And here I am, 2 years later. Some requested prompts are still in my inbox, and I do think I will write something for each eventually. For now, please enjoy this one :) Also, thanks @jl-micasea-fics for letting me use your prompts. I know it's been two years, but still, credit where its due ;)
Taglist: @skzho @bubblelixie @flakywig @itsallaboutkey @avyskai @mekuiikore @changbiddies0325 @knowleeknow @sensitiveandhungry @svintsandghosts @poutypoutybin @hyunjinswifeee @sunlitwilderness
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Please don't flag as mature or repost this story - Thank You!
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“Spread your legs, sweet thing.”
Against every fibre in your body, you disobey and further the distance to the unbelievably attractive man instead. Much to his dismay.
“Hey,” he tilts your gaze towards himself by the touch of your jaw. A sweet gesture, seeing you were heavily making out seconds before. “What’s going on?”
Hidden away in the small bathroom of your favourite bar, you find yourself perched on the counter. Most definitely the product of the alcohol intoxicating your system.
“Sorry—” you excuse yourself, wiping your hands down the sides of face. “I’m good. Let’s keep going.”
Expecting him to continue where you had left of, you’re surprised to find him leaning against the wall. “Not until you tell me what’s going on in that stunning head of yours.”
A light blush spreads over your cheeks towards your ears and your lip wanders between your teeth. Because the reason for your distraction is so stupid.
“It’s just, we’ve been doing this for a while.” Hooking up at this very bar every weekend for the past few months. For the life of you, you can’t remember how it even started. Possibly with a conversation and his hand on your thigh. Probably with a few shots while celebrating your birthday. “And I don’t know anything about you.”
“Which hasn’t been a problem until now. So, where’s this coming from?”
The first few times were fun. Hooking up in the bathroom, words limited to the absolute necessary. If anything, it made it even hotter. Being with a stranger whose name you hardly remember. But then the comments started. You don’t know which of your friend was the first to say something. It might have been Seungmin, questioning how you could keep hooking up weekly without knowing the first thing about him.
And now you can’t shake the comment out of you if you try. The voice is a constant tenant of your metaphorical head-apartment. Living rent-free.
“My friends. They’ve been asking questions about you. None of which I can answer.” Which is stupid, because it shouldn’t matter. What matters is the incredibly handsome and muscular guy in front of you. Changbin— you think.
You’re surprised when he doesn’t laugh at or dismiss their concern. “Okay, then. Let’s do it.”
Cocking an eyebrow, you look down at his hands as they begin travelling up your thighs again. Leaving goosebumps as they burn into your skin.
“Do what?”
“Get to know each other. Might as well play 21 questions while we’re at it.”
His lips brush against your jaw before he urges them against your neck. Checking the quickening of your pulse as he licks at the veins.
“Come on. Hit me.”
But you can’t think. His touches are a true distraction, moans tumbling out of your mouth as you finally spread your legs for him. He slots between them, fitting like the last piece of a puzzle.
“You do know how 21 questions works, right?”
His hands grope at your flesh, pulling you closer until you can feel him against your most sensitive part. Why’d you have to speak up? He could have been inside you by now, but you had to open your stupid mouth.
“Yeah— Just— Can’t think.”
“Fine,” he gives in, pulling at your lip as he kisses you. You’re so hot, you wonder whether you’re nursing a fever. “I’ll tell you three things about me, then. Speed things up. ‘S that alright?”
“Please.” You’re begging now, nails digging into the skin of his bulky arms as he’s dragging his clothed crotch against you. “Feels so good.”
“First one.” Changbin pulls your top up over your breasts, freeing your bra. His thick fingers brush against your nipples, forcing a shudder through your body. “I go to the gym five times a week.”
“Obvious—ngh,” you agree turns into a throaty moan as he nibbles at your left breast. Your panties soaked already as you mumble into the night. “Deeper.”
“I’m not even inside you yet.” His chuckle vibrates through your torso. Then he grazes his teeth against your second nipple, and you might as well have lost your head.
“No. Tell me— fuck— tell something deeper. Something not— not everyone knows.”
You’re entering heaven when his hand wanders down your side and towards the hem of your skirt. It wiggles below the fabric, setting flames to your loins. You’re burning from the inside out as this stranger handles your body like he created it himself. Knows how to make you go absolutely insane. And that’s with his clothes still on.
“I call my mom every day.” That definitely fits the category of deep talk. Although, the thought of Changbin’s mother doesn’t exactly fit the moment. “Number three, I’d like to take you out one of these days.”
When the tip of his thumb reaches for your clit, you see the realisation hit his features in real time. You’ve ruined your panties and he can feel it. He has ruined you, and he can see it. From your rolled-back eyes to your tossed-back head. You’re in absolute ecstasy.
Changbin thumbs at your nub, drawing circles with your own wetness. Smirking with pride like a lunatic.
“Your turn, sweet thing. Three things about you, then you get to come.”
No words describe the hatred you feel for yourself when you realise he’s serious. The trajectory of earning your orgasm is as much arousing as it is frustrating. If only you hadn’t said a thing.
“I’m—” You tumble forward as his middle finger enters you. And him? He cocks his head at you, playing confused.
“Sorry? I don’t understand you. Can you speak up?”
Asshole.
“Music,” you mumble, breathless. “I like music. Listening. Making.”
“That’s one. You’re doing so good for me.” A kiss swallows the whine as he enters another finger. Your walls are clenching around him as his thumb practically attacks your clit. It feels so good, but it’s not enough and Changbin knows. “I tell you what. Give me a second, and I’ll give you a third. Sound good?”
You nod, frantic, needing—nay, craving—another one of his fingers.
“I’m good— good at— oh, God.” Hands are clawing at his shirt, the black and red fabric almost ripping from the strength he ignites in you. Your stomach is tensing tight, and he slows down. It’s an alarming promise, Changbin threatening to leave you high and dry if you don’t give him another one. A second fact about yourself. “Maths. I’m good at maths.”
You’re all but howling when he enters a third finger and curls them up against your spot. That’s when you loose the rest of control over your body. None of your movements are under your own command anymore, Changbin’s the sole reason you’re even still sitting upright.
“That’s two. I thought you were good at maths. You’re one short of earning my mouth, sweet thing.”
The promise alone almost makes you fall of the edge. His mouth on you. Coaxing you to your sweet, sweet release. It’s not far, but Changbin is the only one who can make you reach it. You don’t doubt he’ll leave you on the edge if you don’t give him a third fact.
It’s unfortunate that you can’t form coherent sentences anymore. Let alone think of a third fact about yourself. Absolutely pathetic.
“Please—” Swallowing the lump in your throat, you stare up at him, begging, pleading. “Please, just let me come.”
“Nuh-uh,” he teases with a smirk. A soft kiss hits your nose, then your lips. “That’s not a fact, sweet thing. Don’t you want to come on my tongue?”
Again, the thought alone has you clenching on his fingers. You’re so full, so close, and yet, can’t think of anything.
Maybe if you copy one of his facts, he won’t notice, right? But what was it he said? Oh, right. Gym, mom, date. But, you don’t go to the gym and you don’t talk to your mom daily.
“So, what is it?”
“Date!” you blurt out and he looks confused. “Take me out.” But that’s a prompt, not a fact, so you correct even further, teetering on the edge of heaven and hell. “I’d like it, I mean.”
Changbin debates for a second whether your words count as a fact. You can tell he wants to tease you some more, relishes in it. Thank God, he decides against it.
A sigh of relief escapes you when he finally leans down, pushes your skirt up and connects his lips to yours. And that’s all it takes.
One second his tongue prods against your clit, the next you’re coming on it.
And come, you do. You’re sure you’re squirting all over his face as he swallows up every bit of your release. Cleans you with his mouth until you’re glistening in spit and overstimulation. It doesn’t seem he wants to leave the space between your thighs and you have to drag him away when it becomes too much.
“Sweet, sweet thing,” he teases with a smile when he comes up, licking his lips. His hair is a mess, likely from your hands tugging at the strands and he looks like sex-on-legs. Cheeks dark pink, lips just as, and eyes blurry from arousal. He’s so, so hot, and you’re heating up again already as he’s kissing your lips with pure passion. “So, about that date…”
“Name a place and a time. I’ll be there.”
He chuckles, pulling you from the counter and turning you around. You will never tire from him, treating you like a doll. Bending and breaking you as he pleases. Those damn muscles flex as his arms wrap around your body and he pushes you up against the sink.
“We’ll get there. In fact…” he pulls your skirt over your asscheeks, giving them a delicious squeeze as he hums. Next thing you know, he frees his cock, reaching into his jeans to pull out a condom. And you wonder how Changbin is still so hot while wrapping himself in the latex. “How about you come three more times.”
You gulp at the thought, finding him in the mirror.
“One for a time and one for a place.”
That’s only two. You’re good at maths, or at least you think you are. Changbin might have fucked that brain right out of you.
“And the last one— one— fuck, you’re tight,” he praises as he enters you from behind.
Once he bottoms out, he collects himself, flicking your nipples as he watches you through the glass. And yet again, you’re a chaotic mess in his hands. With your head thrown back against his chest, you’re sent straight back to your own personal nirvana.
That’s when Changbin finishes his prior statement, a proud smirk glued to his face. “The last one’s simply for good measure.”
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Masterlist Leave your thoughts!
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empty-movement · 28 days
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April 1, 1997
OMG OMG OMG
You are eagerly tearing open the copy of Newtype Magazine you camped outside of a convenience store for. You need more Utena content. The show is starting tomorrow, and you need a fix!! Newtype's got you:
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And so do we! Thanks to forum member xenofem, there's already a rough translation of this spread! :D I have every Newtype magazine published during Utena's run (and then some), and will be uploading on the release schedule that coincided with the show! Convenient way to pace myself, I guess. ;D
But the ain't all! Newtype also included some character design sheets this month, and the beginning of the monthly release episode summaries is also in this issue! For more, check out where I've uploaded the Utena pages, along with the cover and ToC!
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Join us for our weekly watch of the series, starting here!
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dee-the-red-witch · 26 days
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One more time, with FEELING? (April Pinned)
Now that we're past the first, let's do this. One. More. Time.
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I'm Dee. Queer lesbian trans woman. Just she/her for the pronouns. Not your Responsible Adult, and while I'm safe for MY work, I'm self employed, my bitch of a boss gives zero fucks about adult content, and I believe in a healthy education. Kinky. Poly. Separated. Witch-adjacent. Occultist. Possibly cute/hot according to others. Sex and body positive. What do I do? Art- leatherwork, digital art, and these days, tattooing and tattoo flash. (Click that link for the goods. Tattoos, for locals only, by appointment, etc.)
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Writing- One book (with accompanying tarot deck), two more in edits, several more in progress. Completely unscheduled film/tv reviews and weekly tarot spreads.
I'm also in the process of dealing with a massive work backlog, a life starting to fall apart in a few ways, a transition surgery I'm desperately trying to fund the expenses for, and, y'know, all the wonders of being transfem in late-stage capitalism in a christofascist country.
Yes, that's a lot. Welcome to my life.
Let's get the usuals out of the way. Tipping should be mandatory. Terfs, fash, bigots, can and should fuck off out of here. No, I will not tag NSFW or mature, because it ends up getting creators targeted half the time. And because if you're on here you can learn to consume media critically and censor your own damn experience without me doing it for you. Plastics suck, including your precious vegan leather. Land back. Do it alone. Do it weird. Do it scared. No I don't know what a jerma is, and do not tell me. Yes I do swear. A lot.
I love fantasy, horror, cassette futurism, cyberpunk, brutalism, and all sorts of stuff with it. You want my discord or server? Ask me for either. Yes, I still take voice recording requests, and yes, it's the only form of 'content' I do, though I absolutely support creators of other types like mad. You want to help out? Scroll back up and hit any of those links, or just throw money at me screen here.
Otherwise, that's it. Yes, my inbox and messages are still open for now.
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myoddessy · 1 year
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CONEY ISLAND | cl16 —THE PRELUDE.
series masterlist
summary —an article on y/n l/n and all that entails.
WHO IS Y/N L/N? by Louise Kelly
April 29th 2017.
By now, everyone and their mother has heard the name Y/n L/n. With the awards and the acclaims, it's a surprise to find that she isn't an old Hollywood legend, but instead an 19 year old girl with raw, unfiltered talent.
Although, as brilliant as L/n's work is, many fans and followers have noticed a distinct pattern in her projects: she releases something legendary (i.e. an Academy Award for directing after her debut, topping charts with her first album, etc.) and ghosts all media for six months minimum before returning with another knockout. This reputation has lead many tabloids and reporters to refer to her as "Star" an abbreviated version of what was "The Shooting Star" in reference to the fleeting moments of brightness of her career.
Many people over the years have speculated that this nature has been brought on by a lack of media privacy, as paparazzi and obsessive fans alike tracked her down and documented what was near to her every move in the two years before she began her complete media lockdown—outside of promotions, of course.
Due to this private nature of hers, there's a lot of room for speculation when it comes to her life—something news outlets and tabloids such as enews and entertainment weekly have taken advantage of too many times to count over the years by starting rumors and spreading gossip through clickbaited headlines.
In fact, most things people have come to know for certain about the young woman are through speeches she makes or posts from her friends and family's accounts.
In her 2013 Oscar acceptance speech, she went out of her way to thank her mother and brothers, saying they were the only reason she was standing there and their support meant more than any award ever could. Since then, she's never skipped a chance to praise and credit them for her success.
She has also spoken very fondly of her boyfriend and racing car driver, Charles Leclerc, with whom she's been dating for little over three years and grew up living beside. While she does not credit him by name in her speeches, she often dedicates her awards to "her love". Because of this, most information on the pair's relationship has come through both party's instagram accounts, and the accounts of their friends.
Y/n's closest friend, Amalie Billard, has been the public's window into the life of L/n, sharing sweet and funny moments through Instagram stories and posts. Amalie herself is a photographer who grew up with Y/n and has worked closely with her since an internship and ELLE magazine two years ago. Y/n has been the subject of a vast majority of Billard's work and has said that she "feels more comfortable around Amalie than she has with anyone else in the industry and treasures that bond greatly."
Gossip and drama aside, Y/n has build up an impressive reputation in the world's of cinema and music. She has won a total of 5 Academy Awards; Best Leading Actress (2012), Best Supporting actress (2014), Best Leading Actress (2016), Best Director (2017), Best Supporting Actress (2017). And has one 4 Grammys for her music; Pop Solo Performance (2014), Pop Vocal Album (2014), New Artist (2014), Best Alternative Music Album (2017).
She's been praised by some of Hollywood's greatest over the years for both her work ethic and work itself. "She's an incredibly talented young woman who has the sort of grace you'd see in Old Hollywood and the humour you wish you'd see in everyone now. She's truly a great role model for all—young and old." Said Meryl Streep in an interview for "Call for me", a film that she and Y/n starred in in 2015.
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taglist— @whoetoshaw @formula-hamilton @lilsiz @sad1esgf @deviltsunoda @tall-tanned-tattoo @briboweee @uh-oh-spaghetti-oh-my-gosh @meetmeaftersix
if you would like to be tagged in future series parts, either comment, dm me, or send a message into my inbox! 💞💞
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homestuckteam · 27 days
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APRIL NEWSPOST
Posted on 1 April 2024 by James
Hi, James here. You might be wondering “Hee Hee, Hoo Hoo, I wonder what trickery and mischief the HS:BC team has cooked up for me on this most devilish of days..” Fortunately for everyone I have no elaborate April Fool’s Day joke for you. It is my most sacred belief that you can be a fool any day of the year if you have a prankster’s heart.
We got a pretty important date to celebrate coming up this month. That’s right. My birthday is this week. Oh and I guess the 15th anniversary of Homestuck. On 4/13 the team and I will be doing a little community stream. The Plan is to draw together on a shared canvas, answer some questions, and maybe play a game or two while just casually chatting with you guys. I know a handful of other people have 4/13 streams planned, so we’re keeping it pretty casual. Hope to see you there. We’ll post more details soon.
In HS:BC news, we had a long meeting yesterday finalizing some big in-comic events so we can get the ball rolling on production. Some of it is testing the waters on what we’re able to do as a team, and I think you’ll really like it.
If you’re subbed to the Patreon, we did a poll over there a while back and it looked like people were overwhelmingly in favor of spreading out the bonus content over the span of the month so if you don’t see your usual tier reward just yet, don’t worry. We’re thinking we’ll try out a weekly drop. If it doesn’t work we’ll just go back to doing it all at once on the 1st.
As always, thanks for reading. I’ll see you a bit later this month!
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bfpnola · 10 months
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Join Our International Youth Activist Discord Server! 🌎✨
Looking for an incredible space to connect with like-minded youth activists from around the world? Look no further! Welcome to our amazing Better Future Program, Inc. (BFP) server, created by our passionate youth volunteers in April 2021. Here, we forge friendships, ignite ideas, and embrace the collective power of youth!
📚 Free Resources: Dive into our extensive Liberation Library, with over 3,000 resources covering social justice, mental health, and academia. It's a treasure trove of knowledge and inspiration for activists of all backgrounds. Explore it here: Liberation Library.
🫱🏽‍🫲🏾 Peer Support: We understand the importance of having a supportive community. Our server provides a space for peer support, where you can share what's going on in your life, receive a listening ear, or seek advice. We're here for you! Read our peer support policy.
🌎 International Community: Connect with fellow activists from all corners of the globe. Our server brings together passionate individuals who share a commitment to creating a better future. Join us and be part of our worldwide family!
📋 Channel Highlights: Check out our various channels, each serving a unique purpose. From silly questions of the day and history lessons to political discussions and private identity-based chats, there's something for everyone. And if you don't see what you want? Just submit a suggestion!
✨ Additional Info: Don't miss our weekly plenary meetings, held on Sundays, where we discuss organizational updates, next steps, and engage in political education. Zoom link in our Discord! Keep an eye on the #announcements channel for the latest details.
Ready to Join?
Click the link below to dive into our vibrant community: Discord Server
Volunteer with Us!
If you're interested in becoming part of our dedicated team, check out our volunteer application: Volunteer Application
🌟 Spread the Word! 🌟
Share this post with your friends who are passionate about activism. Together, we can build a better future for all.
Let's make a difference, one step at a time. See you in the server!
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academicazura · 10 days
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april 18th
things are getting heated in this brain of mine </3 i'm trying to survive through studying theory while fighting back trauma symptoms. also my calf is hurting weird
today i
finished reading 30-Second Philosophies! it was, like, better than the recommended course book...
tried out a new weekly bullet journal spread. it seems to be efficient, and maybe i'll post pictures later :)
omg, the brain fog, ended up singing along to swedish bangers for the evening
did a couple of hours worth of philosophy notes on laptop in the middle of the night
📖: Anne of Green Gables, which i get to read for a book report -- i'm just living my best life out here with the tiny angel <3
🎧: You Said Something, PJ Harvey
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04/16/2024 Daily OFMD Recap
TLDR; Samba Schutte; Outtakes; Weekly Calendar; Fiber Arts Auction; Some Nonsense in Bristol; Glad Ranker; Fan Spotlight: Never Left Podcast; Cast Cards; Our Drag Means Slay, Our Flag Means Fanfiction Minisode; Our Flag Makes a Difference Fundraiser; Schadenfreude; Love Notes; Daily Darby/Tonight's Taika.
= Samba Schutte =
The big sighting today was Samba and his Outtakes BTS post!
== New Weekly Event Calendar ==
New event calendar is up! Check out the new Fiber Arts Brigade info below!
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= SOFMD's Fiber Arts Brigade =
Some cool stuff is going on in SOFMD's Fiber Arts Brigade! There's an auction to benefit Sage, a US organization that provides amazing support and advocacy for queer elders! The Auction will be held June 14th . You don't need to be a member to donate items to the auction! Message @saveofmdcrewmates if you'd like to join in! sageusa.org
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Jeff Art by @snejpowa
== **Big Sigh** in Bristol ==
I don't even know what to label this section. I'm just flabberghasted. The good news is they are not a member of the SOFMD team since there was a rumor going around that SOFMD was somehow involved. Link to the Bristol Post and SaveOFMD's Statement Below:
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== Uproar Update! ==
Digital release moved up to April 23!
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== Calls to Action ==
== GLAAD ==
Last day to vote for GLAAD!
Vote Here
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Img Src: @AdoptOurCrew Twitter
== Ranker ==
Still looking to help OFMD stay up on Ranker? This is their main page and yo can choose from lots of different rankings going on and vote up OFMD and down other shows you think should be lowered.
== Fan Spotlight ==
== Never Left ==
Never Left Podcast has Hugo Pierre Martin on the show this week! Give them a listen on your choice of podcast platforms by visiting their Linktr.ee
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Artwork was created by Amy Gleason, you can see more of her art @/AmysBirdHouse on IG.
= Cast Cards =
Our dear crewmate @melvisik has spotlighted one of the fisherman from the pilot episode that Stede pillaged the plant from! Ted Heyck!
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== Our Drag Means Slay ==
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For those of you not in the Chicago area, you can now sign up to see Our Drag Means Slay on livestream! Tickets are $5 for the Apr 27, 2024 7:00 PM show! All proceeds go to charity!
Ticket Link
Our Drag Means Slay Twitter
= Our Flag Means Fanfiction =
Our friends over at Our Flag Means Fanfiction have put out a minisode this week:
Minisode: Izzy Hands Ring Lore Fics Check it out on Spotify!
== Our Flag Makes A Difference ==
Great news! The eSIMS and Sanitary Products for Gaza fundraiser has finally reached it's goal! Thank you so everyone who shared links or donated, it makes a serious different in folks lives! For more info: Check out the campaign
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== Schadenfreude ==
Thanks @seven_sugars on Twitter for spotting this 30% loss YTD!
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== Love notes ==
Today was a tough one lovelies. I really want to thank all of you who reached out when I was struggling, it meant a lot to me. I know some of you said we didn't know each other-- but I just wanna throw out there that you're part of this crew, and even if we haven't talked or interacted much, your love means the world to me and everyone else you send it to. Every single one of you who's willing to reach out-- to a friend/crewmate who has asked, or hasn't asked and just looks like they need it, or you're just spreading a bit of joy-- you make this world such a better place. You take sadness and you turn it into solace and comfort. You share a little piece of yourself to make someone else's missing pieces start to be whole again.
I just want you to know how powerful that kindness is. It can mean the absolute world to someone when they are truly down, to know they are seen and cared about, even by the briefest of acquaintance. Seriously, thank you. You are a glimmer of sunshine on hard days and the impact you make is immense. Tonight, I just want to say thank you so so much for your kindness. Love you crew, I hope you're well.
== Daily Darby / Tonight's Taika ==
Tonight's theme is Freemanji, I don't know why, just felt like a Freemanji night. Look at Rhys in his little mustache and hat, and Taika in his goofy ass coat <3 Gifs courtesy of @neonpigeons and @ihadaweirdname
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bobbiprintables · 1 year
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April 2023 Weekly Planners - Free Printable Digital Inserts
Download Here
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Edit: explanation for all of these recent posts
Okay. So. Re-Intro Post. I fucking guess.
According to litwtc episode “Dead Intern Fund” the world will end from 1 - 100 years from now.
It is now past April 11th 2024 - the previously expected date - and the world has not ended. There will be no “gradual process” of the world ending, because as stated by Chris Dunne and Will Wood themselves, the original date was wrong.
As we have no new specific date for the apocalypse, this blog is now useless and worthless. I no longer have any purpose on tumblr. I had queued some “weekly update” posts which would be tagged as #tallying the aftermath but now I see no reason for those posts to see the light of day. I’ve smashed all my hourglasses and analogue clocks and I now no longer understand the concept of time. I’ve lost so many fucking money doing this shit.
Now that all of that’s out of the way, I can finally tell you guys who’s behind this account - millions of unpayed interns, but mostly me - CC (she/him). All of us had a specific job to do; I was in charge of running this tumblr account and answering questions, Jason (he/him) was the leader of the merch group, Donnie (they/them) worked on spreading the message of the end of the world (they ended up getting arrested for public indecency and we haven’t heard from them since March 17th). All of us were promised $2,000 once the countdown ended and at the moment all of our bank accounts are fucking empty.
Just before the new merch dropped, our manager Christopher promised us half of the money made from the shirt, so if you want to support everybody at the litwtc apocalypse counter team, the best way in doing so is to buy a ‘Dead Intern Fund’ shirt, if you’re able to.
Our ask box is currently OPEN
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gimmethatagustd · 1 year
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cosmic collision (1) | myg + jjk
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A responsible weedman, Yoongi always tests out new marijuana strains before selling them to his customers. When his supplier offers him a new strain, Cosmic Collision, Yoongi is eager to try it. What he doesn't expect is the alien that comes with it.
↳ pairing: weedman!yoongi x alien!jungkook
↳ genre: BTS | 18+ | supernatural | strangers to lovers | slow burn | crack | fluff | smut
↳ wc/date: 6.8k | april 2023
↳ warnings: marijuana | yoongi blacks out from being too high, but i promise nothing bad happens to him | jungkook is so precious you might not survive | yoongi is TRYING HIS BEST
↳ notes: welcome to this silly lil world of galactic mysteries 👽 i hope you enjoy the journey. pls keep your arms, hands, legs, feet, and head inside the spacecraft at all times
↳ main masterlist // series masterlist
↳ what was jai listening to? know yourself - drake
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“What’s this one called again?” As Namjoon speaks, a thick cloud of white smoke rushes out of his mouth. 
Hoseok is quick with a response, answering before Yoongi has a chance. “DJ Short Flo,” he reads the piece of masking tape stuck to the top of the glass jar on their coffee table. The name is scribbled in blue Sharpie. 
Namjoon repeats the name to himself in a low and scratchy tone. He clears his throat a few times more than is really necessary. “What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?” 
Yoongi’s not sure the names of marijuana strains really need to mean anything, but he’s not part of the conversation. He’s too busy counting a rather fat wad of cash as he stands in the entryway of his apartment. 
Suddenly, the chill vibes playlist Namjoon so artfully crafted for the group’s weekly Friday night smoke sesh pauses. He flashes a glare at Taehyung spread out on Yoongi’s bean bag as he passes the blunt off to Hoseok, who is now making grabby hands next to him on the couch. 
“This is that nasty flow!” Taehyung belts the Drake lyrics prematurely, using his phone to switch from Namjoon’s playlist to the song that has seemingly popped into his head at the mention of Flo. 
Hoseok’s eyes widen as he lifts the blunt to his lips. He takes a drag from it while his head leans over the back of the couch. “Hey, wasn’t that Yoongi’s rapper name in college? Or was it DJ Short Glow?” 
“Top boy in this shit, I’m so international!” 
Yoongi slams his foot into his dirty red Vans. He has to bend over slightly to hook his finger in the back of the shoe to pull it out from underneath his heel. Life would be much easier if he just untied his shoes and put them on correctly. 
“It was Gloss.” 
“Reps up is in here, got P Reign and Chubby and TJ and Winnie and whoa!” Taehyung’s voice cracks as he chokes out the lyrics, and smoke simultaneously puffs out of his nose and mouth. 
“DJ Short Gloss?” Hoseok asks. 
“Yeah, and you know how that should go!” 
“Man, shut the fuck up.” Yoongi throws his middle finger up at whoever may be looking. “I’m not even short.” With his shoes on, Yoongi shrugs into a light windbreaker and stuffs the money into one of the pockets. He has to wiggle the pocket’s zipper a few times before it fully zips closed. “I’ma be back in probably two hours, okay?” 
Hoseok and Taehyung are now belting an Ariana Grande song, so only Namjoon acknowledges Yoongi’s announcement. He throws his friend a thumbs up as smoke unfurls around the blunt squeezed between his lips. 
“Have fun, bro. Tell Jin he better respond to my message on Discord. We got games to play.” 
Yoongi gives the front door a sharp kick before he yanks it open. He reminds himself to figure out how to fix it from getting stuck constantly. The paint on the bottom corner is starting to crack from the number of toes that have jammed into it. 
“Yeah, yeah. I got you, Joon.” 
Seokjin is notoriously difficult to get ahold of. Yoongi can’t text him, which is understandable, even if using other apps like Discord to communicate is annoying. It always goes back to not wanting his real phone number associated with their conversations. Yoongi never feels like pointing out that a Discord account - like literally everything else - can be traced back to Seokjin’s phone. It’s a losing battle, and Yoongi isn’t the type to argue. 
So he shoots WWHandsome#7451 a quick “omw” and drives the thirty minutes to Seokjin’s brother’s house. Or was it his cousin? Best friend? Yoongi can’t remember. All he knows is the guy is cute, and that is enough to make Yoongi not want to go to his house. 
It’s a small house tucked away in the culs-de-sac of a modest but nice-looking suburb. Yoongi always feels dirty as he parks on the curb in his 2001 Honda Accord. The car has wires sticking out where the spoiler was once connected in the back (accidentally ripped off by Taehyung, who closed the trunk too hard). The metal below his front left headlight is dented and stitched together with black zip ties after Yoongi idiotically let Namjoon drive and his friend hit a mailbox.  
The feeling of being out of place typically intensifies as Yoongi trudges up the walkway to the front door. He feels frumpy in his dad hat with a frayed bill, eccentrically-patterned pink button-up shirt over a white graphic tee, and forest-green joggers. He never cared about fashion; throwing on whatever’s clean is enough for him. But when Seokjin’s friend (Yoongi is now remembering they are just friends) flings the door open and lets his eyes roam over Yoongi’s frame, he wishes he’d at least ironed his shirt. 
“Hello,” the man purs. He brushes blue-grey hair away from eyes that are sharp and heavy as he looks up at Yoongi through his bangs. Yoongi tries not to pay attention. “Jinnie’s in the basement.” 
The basement is really just one giant gaming room with a spot off to the side dedicated to Seokjin’s rather impressive inventory of marijuana. He’s exceptionally organized, which Yoongi appreciates, with each glass jar and drawer stuffed with green buds neatly labeled. It makes the exchange quick and easy. Yoongi would prefer not to linger. 
It’s not that Seokjin has ever done anything wrong. In all honesty, Yoongi can’t quite put a name to the feeling he gets in the elder’s presence. He just knows something about Seokjin makes him uneasy. 
“Yoongi-ya, good to see you, my friend.” Seokjin’s hand clamps over Yoongi’s shoulder and his fingers dig into his clavicle. 
“Good seeing you, too,” Yoongi mumbles. He shrugs off his backpack and holds it against his chest like a shield. However, it doesn’t protect him for long because Seokjin almost immediately pries it from Yoongi’s grasp. He watches as the older man tosses the empty bag onto the coffee table in front of a large TV, making the glass rattle. 
“Sit.” 
Yoongi plops onto the couch. Halo Infinite is paused on the TV. He knows nothing about video games, but he’s sure Namjoon would squeal over Seokjin’s setup. Yoongi makes a note to never tell him about it. 
“Want your usual, right?” Seokjin asks though he’s obviously not in any rush to get Yoongi his supply when he settles beside him on the couch. He tilts his black bucket hat back, pulling the brim away from his eyes to expose dark eyebrows. 
Seokjin wears clothes similar to Yoongi’s usual attire: comfortable graphic tees and joggers. He always manages to look better, though. Sleek and expensive, with logos of brands Yoongi doesn’t even know stitched into the fabric, all monochrome rather than the patterned clothing that makes Yoongi look like a rainbow threw up on him. 
“Mhm,” Yoongi hums. “Chem Valley Kush, XJ-13, and DJ Short Flo sold really well.” 
Seokjin’s eyes crinkle as he grins. In the dim lighting of the room, Yoongi swears his teeth look sharp. “XJ-13 put your ass in gear, didn’t it?” 
This Yoongi has to smile at. “The most productive I’ve been in my life,” he laughs. “That tangerine aroma, too? Fuckin’ beautiful.” 
Seokjin reaches for the clear glass bong atop the coffee table. He brings it to his lips, pausing momentarily to say, “It’s the Jack Herer in it.” 
Yoongi watches the smoke furl through the intricately curled tubing. He’s always been more of a bowl kind of guy, but he doesn’t say no when Seokjin passes him the bong and a lime green lighter.
“I’ve got enough of all three, but try out this one.” Seokjin watches expectantly as Yoongi inhales and doesn’t continue talking until he blows a thick cloud toward the ceiling. “It’s called Cosmic Collision. Totally brand new strain, an experimental hybrid. Nobody’s got this on the street except me.” 
“Cosmic Collision?” Yoongi runs his tongue across his teeth, then the inside of his cheeks, like he’s gathering the taste in his mouth. It’s fruity and went down so smooth it almost felt more like vaping or hookah than weed. “Tastes like cereal.” 
“Good, right? Shit’ll take you somewhere otherworldly.”
Describing the strain as experimental and otherworldly is relatively accurate, Yoongi muses as he takes a few more hits from the bong. Each pull is smooth and surprisingly kind to his throat as he breathes it down. Weed like this is hard to come by on the streets. Most are harsh, perhaps from being doused in pesticides or growing in shoddy environments. Seokjin has never let Yoongi down, though. Everything he provides is always high quality, to the extent that Yoongi wonders if the man grows it himself or if he’s got the hookup with someone professional. 
Before long, Yoongi sinks into the couch and forgets his promise of returning home after two hours. His phone buzzes in his pocket with text messages he can’t seem to find the desire to check. He doesn’t hear the notifications, only feels the vibration against his thigh. The sensation warms him to the point that the way his body tingles is a little embarrassing. 
Something else buzzes in his ear, something he can hear as a muffled squeak that pulses against his eardrums. It’s rather annoying. Yoongi’s face twists into a slight grimace that quickly melts away when he feels something poke his cheek. 
“Yoongi-ya!” 
His head is almost too heavy to turn, but he manages. Seokjin’s image is blurry initially. It takes a few blinks for Yoongi to adjust, and only then does he realize his eyes have been closed for a good while. 
“Hm?” Like his head, his tongue feels heavy to lift. His mouth tastes like Froot Loops. A small smile stretches his lips against his teeth. God, he’s so fucking high. 
“Jimin and I need to leave; I’m sorry,” Seokjin gives him a sheepish look. 
Yoongi blinks a few more times and wills his arms to lift up. He stretches his back with a groan. “Shit, sorry. Didn’t realize how long it’s been.” 
His phone tells him it’s been nearly four hours since he arrived. His brain struggles to comprehend this new information, just like it struggles to accept that he has somehow migrated upstairs and is now sitting at the kitchen table with a glass of water in front of him. When the fuck had he moved? 
Seokjin gives him a knowing smile. “Drink more water when you get home. And drive safely!” 
Nodding his head, Yoongi slings his backpack over his shoulder and follows Seokjin to the front door. The bag is heavy with what Yoongi assumes is weed - the whole reason why he came to the house in the first place. But he has no recollection of Seokjin giving it to him. 
“That’s some strong shit,” Yoongi mumbles mostly to himself as he says his final goodbyes. 
There’s the knowing smile again, though Yoongi doesn’t know what Seokjin knows that he doesn’t know. “Like I said, otherworldly. Have a good night, my friend. I’ll see you around.” 
As he returns to his car, Yoongi decides that Seokjin most definitely gives him the creeps. A twinge of guilt accompanies the thought because Yoongi knows Seokjin hasn’t actually done anything to deserve such judgment, but he can’t help it. Knowing that he completely blacked out for hours with the guy sends a shiver down Yoongi’s spine. Smoking has never affected him like that before. 
The car ride home is frigid and quiet. Yoongi leans forward against the steering wheel, grasping it with both hands and straining his eyes to see into the dark. Driving while high is a skill Yoongi has perfected over many years of smoking, but tonight he finds himself struggling to stay focused. His eyes keep flicking up to check the rearview mirror. He knows this means he’s so high that paranoia starts kicking in. He usually cuts himself off before that point, but tonight got away from him. Checking for cops in the rearview mirror is one of those paranoid habits of his. At least the sense of self-preservation isn’t too ridiculous. Driving while under the influence of marijuana is illegal, after all. 
To his horror, the next time he looks into the mirror, the empty street isn’t what greets him. Instead, Yoongi stares into two large, bright eyes. 
There’s a motherfucking person in his backseat. 
“What the fuck?!” 
Yoongi stomps on the brakes. The abruptness violently lurches the guy forward, making him smack his face into the back of the passenger’s seat. 
The guy groans loudly and cups his hand over his nose. “Owww.” When he meets Yoongi’s eyes through the rearview mirror again, they’re shiny and wet. “You hurt me.” 
“Who the fuck are you?!” 
It doesn’t matter that he’s stopped in the middle of the street. Yoongi puts the car into park and twists in his seat to see the person behind him better. Any feeling of intoxication has swiftly left his body. He doesn’t think he has sobered up so quickly in his entire life. 
The guy appears to be a few years younger than Yoongi. His shaggy black hair falls into his eyes, though most of his face is obscured by the large hood of his mossy-green sweatshirt. Looking down, Yoongi sees that he’s in a pair of black basketball shorts that are inappropriate for the cool autumn weather. Tattoos of strange symbols litter his hands and creep up his arms, from what Yoongi can tell. The thought that his teeth look sharp like Seokjin’s do flashes in Yoongi’s mind, but he’s too freaked out to linger on that. Imagined sharp teeth are nothing compared to how the younger man’s eyes glow with a turquoise ring around his black irises. 
Despite the fear those eyes strike in Yoongi’s body, he can’t help but admire how beautiful the man is. Something about him feels… otherworldly, Seokjin’s voice sounds in Yoongi’s head. 
“My name is-” 
Whatever the man says is lost to Yoongi. His supposed name is nothing Yoongi has ever heard before, sounding more like strange clicks and whistles instead of a real language. 
Apparently sensing Yoongi’s confusion by his mouth hanging open, the man gives him a nervous smile. “You may call me Jungkook if that is easier for you to pronounce,” he whispers hardly loud enough for Yoongi to hear. “When I am in this realm, that is the name I go by. Elder Seokjin gave it to me.” 
Realm? Elder? 
Yoongi shakes his head while his palms press into his eyes. Maybe if he slowly counts backward from ten and focuses on his breathing, the marijuana-induced hallucination will disappear. 
Silently, he mouths the numbers until he finishes his ten seconds of attempted meditation. To his chagrin, he opens his eyes to see the strange man sitting on the edge of the backseat with his hands clasped between his thighs. He watches Yoongi in earnest. 
“I can tell that you are upset.” He speaks slowly as if he thinks Yoongi may not be able to understand him. “There was nothing else that I could do, sir. Elder Jimin and Elder Seokjin closed the portal when they left after they assumed I had returned home without them. But I was in the garden! I do not like the smell of marijuana. It hurts my head so badly. I needed to get fresh air until you left.”
The man waits rather impatiently for Yoongi to respond. He fidgets in his seat, though he keeps his eyes locked with Yoongi’s. His gaze is so intense that Yoongi has to look away. 
It’s too much. 
Before any more bullshit can spew from the guy’s mouth, Yoongi flings the door open, snatching the keys before slamming the door shut behind him. His hand shakes as he presses the button to lock the doors, leaving him standing outside and the younger man inside. 
He looks up at Yoongi through the back window with confusion. Yoongi could swear that the turquoise rings around his eyes dim. 
Turning his back to the car so he doesn’t have to look at the man anymore, Yoongi finally takes out his phone. It takes Namjoon three calls to pick up, but Yoongi can’t be mad; he’s just grateful his friend picked up at all. 
“Yoong. It’s three-thirty in the morning. Hobi said you never came home.”
There was a reason why he called Namjoon instead of his roommate. Hoseok is such a heavy sleeper, Yoongi knows it would have been pointless to try. 
“I need you to come get me. I don’t really know where I am, but there’s a guy in my car.” 
Silence on the other end of the line makes Yoongi grow antsy. He lets out a loud huff, then another to indicate the sense of urgency he needs his friend to share with him. 
“What?” 
“I’m not kidding, man. There’s some random fucking dude in the backseat of my car.” 
Yoongi takes a peek over his shoulder. The guy has crawled halfway into the front seats and is pushing the buttons on Yoongi’s radio. Probably fucking up all his saved stations. Yoongi lets out a hiss. 
“Bro, you’re tweaking.” 
“Fuck you, I’m serious.” 
“Tweeeeeaking,” Namjoon drawls. There’s a giggle in the background, the soft deepness of the sound unmistakable. 
“Give Taehyung the phone.” 
For a few seconds, Yoongi only hears more giggling and some rustling. He tries to respect his friends’ privacy and not ask why they are still together so late at night. 
Eventually, Taehyung murmurs a greeting. “Hey, boss man.” 
“Come pick me up right now. This dude is refusing to get out of my car.” 
“What if he hotwires it, and when you go back in the morning, it’s gone?” Taehyung raises a valid concern, but Yoongi isn’t in the right mind to think with common sense. 
“Then it’s fucking gone! It’s a piece of shit car anyway!” 
Taehyung gasps. “Don’t talk about Mary Jane like that!” 
Yoongi pinches the bridge of his nose and squeezes his eyes shut. Maybe he is tweaking. The universe must agree since he turns around to see an empty car. 
“Yoongi?” Taehyung’s voice is small and distant. 
Yoongi holds his phone a few inches away from his ear and stares at his car in disbelief. He slowly approaches it, peering into the windows to inspect the backseat. There’s nothing. 
“Uhh… nevermind. I’ll be fine. Make sure Joon drinks some water, okay?” He hangs up before Taehyung has the chance to question him further. 
With trembling hands, Yoongi unlocks the car and slides behind the wheel. Another quick look around confirms that he’s again the only person in the car. How was it possible for the other guy to get out? Yoongi knows that he locked the doors when he got out. But perhaps he unlocked them from the inside, and the alarm didn’t go off? Yoongi can’t think straight, but he supposes it doesn’t matter. His car is empty. 
It remains empty for the rest of the drive. Yoongi is on edge the entire time, but he has calmed down considerably by the time he parks on the street near his apartment.
However, Yoongi doesn’t feel true security until he’s in bed, after showering away the smell of weed and the tingling feeling of his skin. The marijuana is put away, although he hides Cosmic Collision in his closet. He doesn’t know why, but something tells him to keep the odd strain to himself for now. 
With how droopy the weed made him and the stress of the ride home, Yoongi quickly falls asleep to his Pink Noise playlist and tries not to dream of turquoise-ringed eyes. 
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Yoongi loves autumn Saturday mornings. He loves snuggling into his blankets while the sun gently kisses his skin. He loves tilting his head to see red and gold leaves glowing in the sunlight outside his window. He loves knowing there’s nothing that needs to be done, that he has a day to slowly move through the kitchen in his pajamas with a cup of coffee and a blunt with nowhere he needs to be. He loves gentle days. 
Today, he does not have the pleasure of enjoying a gentle day. 
Rather than the sun waking him, it’s his roommate. Hoseok squeezes Yoongi’s shoulders a bit too tightly as he shakes the older man awake. 
“Yoongi,” he whisper-yells. “Yoongi, you didn’t tell me you had someone over. He’s really fucking hot, I get it, but you have to tell me! I just walked out of my bedroom naked, which I should be able to do since it’s my apartment, and I knew you wouldn’t be up yet, and surprise! Some gorgeous man is sitting on the couch, eating my chocolate chip cookies, by the way, staring at my dick! Do you know how embarrassing that is?!” 
With squinted eyes and a scrunched nose, Yoongi stares up at Hoseok. To be perfectly honest, all he heard was hot, naked, cookies, dick. Which… Is not what one expects to talk about before their eyes have even adjusted to the daylight. 
“Wha-what, Hoba, what?” Yoongi forces himself into a sitting position. 
Hoseok flaps his arms at his side and lets out an exasperated sigh. “Your hookup is still here. And he saw me naked. And he’s eating my food. That is what I’m trying to tell you.” 
“My hookup?” 
“Yes, fuck. He’s really sexy in an adorable kind of way. I was shocked. Not really your usual type, but an improvement, honestly,” Hoseok rambles.  
Ignoring the subtle dig at his taste in men, Yoongi tries to focus on the meaning behind his roommate’s words. He is no stranger to casual sex but seldom brings people over out of respect for Hoseok. It’s a situation precisely like this that he tries to avoid. 
“But I came home straight from Jin’s… Didn’t I?” Yoongi wracks his brain, desperately searching for some kind of missing link. “I swear on my life, Hoba. I swear on my life I went to Seokjin’s and came straight home. You can ask Joon and Tae. I called them after I left because-” 
Hoseok leaps back as Yoongi rips the blankets off of his body. “Fuck!” He flies out of his bedroom, feet barely touching the ground. 
He’s breathing hard when he bursts into the living room. 
The man from the night before - Jungkook - is cuddled up on the couch. He’s wearing the same outfit, though his hood is lowered now. Yoongi can see just how disarmingly beautiful the man is without the fabric obstructing his view. His face is round with flawless skin that practically glows in the daylight. His bangs are sticking out in all directions, hair mused in what Yoongi assumes is bedhead. Yoongi can’t help but find him kind of adorable, especially when his cheeks are puffy from stuffing so many chocolate chip cookies in his mouth. 
Except he shouldn’t be fucking real! Or in his apartment!
As Yoongi steps closer, he notices the turquoise rings around Jungkook’s irises. Fear that Yoongi can only describe as primal tickles the base of his spine. It’s impossible to stamp down, no matter how many deep breaths he takes. 
“You.” He points an accusatory finger. “You.” 
Not his most intelligent moment, but his brain doesn’t know how to function anymore. A cookie-covered smile makes Yoongi falter, but he does his best to maintain a stern expression. 
“Good morning, Yoongi! Your apartment is kind of dirty, but it feels cozy. I like it.” Jungkook places the now empty container of cookies on the coffee table. The action draws Yoongi’s attention to the stack of other empty food containers, beer bottles, weed residue, and game controllers littering the table’s surface. Maybe he is dirty. 
Nah, fuck that. This is not what’s important right now. 
Yoongi shakes his head, his shaggy blonde hair falling into his eyes. “Why are you here? How did you get here?” 
Hoseok makes an odd sound that Yoongi desperately tries to ignore. But then he feels the press of a warm hand against the nape of his neck, and he can’t brush him off from how tightly Hoseok is digging into his skin. 
“Yoongi…” He sounds like he’s about to scold him. 
Before he can start, Jungkook hops up from the couch. Both strangely-tattooed hands lift upward, about chest-high, and he twists them to hold his palms out. 
“It is my fault, Mr. Hoseok.” 
“Just Hobi.” 
Jungkook nods. “I did not explain the situation well. Elder Jimin and Elder Seokjin told me never to speak to humans about this, but I don’t know what else to do. No one else from our team is here, and they must wait until the next cosmic collision for the portal to reopen.” 
His voice trembles as he speaks, and Yoongi worries the guy is about to start crying. He tugs at the many hoops adorning his earlobe and rocks on the balls of his feet, much like children do to comfort themselves. 
Maybe he’s a dick, but Yoongi would prefer not to deal with a stranger crying in the middle of his living room. 
“Cosmic collision? Like the weed?” He understands all the individual words Jungkook uses, but none of them in how he has strung them together. 
The man bites his lip. His teeth wiggle as they dig into the pink flesh. At night they had appeared sharp, but in the daylight, they are blunt and almost too big for his face. 
“Not the weed,” he says without further explanation. 
Hoseok’s grip on Yoongi’s neck tightens until he turns to look at him. Human? He mouths not so subtly. 
Yoongi shakes his head. Nothing about any of this makes sense. With a sigh, he runs his hands down his face and grimaces at how oily his skin feels. 
“Look,” he starts, furrowing his eyebrows in Jungkook’s direction. “I’m gonna take a shower. And then I’m gonna drink a cup of coffee. By that point, I expect you to have called Jin or Jimin, fuck, I don’t care who, to take you home. Okay?” 
Jungkook opens his mouth, likely to protest, but Yoongi tuts his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Nope. I said what I said.” 
“Yoongi-ya,” Hoseok protests on behalf of the bewildered man. He follows Yoongi back into his bedroom, awkwardly wringing his hands as he watches him look for clean clothes to wear. “He seems genuine…” 
“Genuine?” Yoongi scoffs. 
Hoseok shoots him a glare. “Yes.” 
“Did you not hear him, Hoba? Humans? Cosmic collisions? Portals? Last night he said he goes by ‘Jungkook’ when he’s in this realm and made some weird ass clicking sounds like The Predator, like that was supposed to be his fucking name.” 
“Okay… that is a bit strange… But I think you’re being harsh. Clearly, the guy is confused, and if he’s a friend of Jin, I think you should be nicer to him.” 
“Jin gives me the creeps, too.” 
“Yoongi!” Hoseok untangles his fingers to wave them around. “Just, just take your shower. I will get all of us coffee, and we will sort this out.” 
They do not sort this out. 
While Yoongi showered, Hoseok probed Jungkook a bit further. It was all more or less the same, though. Utter nonsense. 
He discovered that Jungkook didn’t know what coffee was, didn’t seem to understand why Hoseok had initially been upset that he’d seen him naked because “nudity is the natural state of all humans,” and seemed shocked that Hoseok could “alter” his features - pointing at the deep orange he had recently dyed his hair. As if to explain his thought process about the hair observation, Hoseok watched with thinly-veiled horror as Jungkook’s hair turned a deep purple right before his eyes. 
Needless to say, as Yoongi inches his way into the kitchen after a shower that should have been refreshing but only left him feeling cold, he does not expect to see Hoseok leaning across the kitchen table to stare unblinking at their odd guest. Their odd guest whose previously-dark hair is an icy blue. 
“Umm?” 
Hoseok lifts his eyes to Yoongi. They’re bright and full of wonder, so shiny Yoongi worries he might be on the verge of tears. Out of sadness or something else, he’s not sure. 
“He’s magic.” 
Jungkook giggles at Hoseok’s declaration. However, one look at Yoongi’s narrowed eyes makes him clap his hand over his mouth. 
“Excuse me?” 
“He can change his hair color. And his eyes! See, look. Show him, Jungkookie.” 
Jungkookie? In the time it took Yoongi to shower, they’d gotten on nickname-level? 
Pouring himself a cup of coffee, Yoongi forgets about his previous threat to kick Jungkook out. Instead, he sits at the table, lets the mug warm his hands, and tries to tell himself that the wave of heat burning down his body is from the coffee and not the intensity of Jungkook’s stare. 
A stare that glows brighter the longer Yoongi looks at him until he watches the turquoise rings turn a deep pink. When Yoongi finally pulls his gaze from his eyes, he sees that Jungkook’s hair compliments his new eyes. 
“What in the actual fuck?” 
“I can change other parts of my body, too!” Jungkook beams. He shakes his head, and his hair returns to its original black. His eyes’ turquoise rings replace the pink. “It takes a lot of energy to change big things, like my facial structure. Hair and eyes are the easiest. I made myself taller when I first got to Earth, though. I like being tall.” 
Yoongi slumps in his seat. If Hoseok wasn’t here witnessing this, he would assume that the weed Seokjin gave him was fucking with him harder than he could have imagined. But Hoseok is entirely sober and untainted by Cosmic Collision. 
That means only one thing. 
This shit is real. Whatever the fuck this is.
“Where were you before you came to Earth?” Hoseok is too willing to go along with this. But, on the other hand, Yoongi feels like everyone is playing a game he doesn’t know the rules to. 
Jungkook’s nervous lip-biting returns, but he seems to push through his feelings. “Our planet is called Zephipra.” He shoots a quick look at Yoongi. “It is further into the universe than you humans have visited. Your scientists do not know about us.” 
“So you’re an alien?” It comes out like a challenge without Yoongi meaning for it to. He feels a tiny bit bad when Jungkook deflates, closing in on himself as he draws his shoulders inward. 
“We don’t like that term.” 
Hoseok reaches an arm across the table. He flips his palm upward as though offering it to Jungkook to hold. 
“What is a better term for you?” he asks softly, and Yoongi envies his roommate’s ability to be unconditionally kind. 
It takes a few minutes of silence before Jungkook hesitantly squeezes Hoseok’s hand. 
“I suppose extraterrestrial, but my people are called Zephi. That is also the language we speak.”
The gulp of coffee Yoongi takes is scalding. He should have waited for it to cool, knows this means his tastebuds and throat are burnt to shit and nothing will taste good for days. But he needs something to do as Jungkook rambles on about the history of aliens like this is all real.  
Hoseok hums along, asking a few follow-up questions when something Jungkook says confuses him. Yoongi finds it all confusing, but he doesn’t say anything. 
“So,” Hoseok claps his hands together and startles Yoongi out of his thoughts. “You said you’re stuck here until some kind of space phenomenon happens?” 
Jungkook nods. 
“And there’s absolutely no other way to get home?” 
Another nod.
“Hmm…” 
Yoongi accidentally catches Jungkook’s eyes once again. He knows his cheeks burn, but he doesn’t understand why. The heat only dissipates once Jungkook averts his gaze. 
“How long does it take, usually?” 
Jungkook draws the coffee Hoseok fixed for him closer. He peers down at the dark liquid and gives the light steam radiating off the surface a few sniffs. Yoongi doesn’t want to find how he scrunches his nose adorable, but he can’t stop the thoughts once they start. 
“Hmm, usually a few weeks.” He looks at Yoongi again, and Yoongi really wishes he’d stop doing that. “Sometimes a month or two, right?” 
Yoongi’s eyebrows shoot up into his bangs. “How would I know?” 
“Well, how often do you purchase marijuana from Elder Seokjin?” When Yoongi doesn’t respond, Jungkook sighs. It’s the first time he looks genuinely upset. “I have never been here alone.” 
By the time what Jungkook has said clicks in Yoongi’s head, he and Hoseok have migrated back to the living room. Yoongi scrambles after them as he pulls up Discord on his phone. No new messages from WWHandsome#7451. 
Scrolling through their history, he finds that there is a pattern to how often Yoongi buys from him. Once he sorts through stoner memes and news articles about the legalization of marijuana at the federal level, he can see that each conversation about picking up a new order occurs around every four to five weeks. Yoongi rarely initiates the conversation; he doesn’t have to. Seokjin will let him know he has a new supply, and Yoongi suddenly realizes that, yeah, he’s almost out. He mentally joked with himself about how astute Seokjin is, that he must have some sort of supernatural sense to know when Yoongi is running low. 
Now Yoongi wonders if there’s more to it than that.  
“Are you not supposed to be here on your own?” Hoseok drapes a blanket around Jungkook’s shoulders and tucks him into the corner of the couch where the cushions are the comfiest. With Jungkook taken care of, he flops onto the couch beside him, leaving Yoongi room on the opposite end. 
Although Yoongi considers himself to be a pretty reliable guy, Hoseok’s ability to take control of an emotionally-charged situation is Yoongi’s saving grace. Unfortunately, he’s not the best when it comes to emotional shit.  
Jungkook tugs at his earrings once again. His other hand curls into a fist he repeatedly hits on the top of his thigh. It’s not hard or aggressive, but it’s distracting. 
“No. I am an… intern? I believe that is the correct term. Only researchers are allowed on Earth alone. Interns must stay with their research mentor. Mine is Elder Seokjin.”
Hoseok lets out an understanding hum. He peeks at Yoongi out of the corner of his eye, but Yoongi doesn’t think he gives Hoseok much to go off of. Yoongi still has no idea what to think about all this; his brain won’t let him. 
The three men are silent for what feels like forever. The air is full of tension, although Yoongi wonders if he’s the only one who notices it. Jungkook simply looks worried, his fist still thumping against his thigh and his fingers playing with his earrings. Hosoek is almost completely relaxed. Yoongi knows his roommate well enough to tell from how his shoulders sag, and that he’s reaching for the pre-rolls and lighter resting on the coffee table. 
“Is this the 93 Boyz?” 
Yoongi shakes his head, amazed that his friend can casually light up a joint as if this is just a normal day. “Chem Valley Kush.” 
“Nice,” Hoseok speaks out of the corner of his mouth before inhaling as he brings the lighter to the tip of the joint. 
Jungkook makes a small noise, perhaps a cough, when Hoseok exhales. His cute little nose wrinkles up, and Yoongi remembers that he doesn’t like the smell of weed. 
“Want some, kiddo?” Hoseok hands the joint to Jungkook, who hesitantly pinches it between his fingers like a snake ready to lunge at him. 
With furrowed eyebrows, he brings the joint to his lips and sucks in the smoke. Yoongi averts his eyes when Jungkook looks up at him through his lashes, cheeks pink and hollowed. There’s something about the guy that makes Yoongi’s skin crawl. 
Despite his dislike of the smell of weed, Jungkook takes a few hits of the joint like a champ, only coughing once, and even then, the sound was dainty and soft. 
Yoongi accepts the joint from Hoseok when Jungkook passes it over. He tries not to think about how Jungkook’s lips had just wrapped around the end of the joint, the same place Yoongi is about to put his lips. He keeps the hit quick and deep, passing it on to Hoseok before he’s barely inhaled fresh air to push the smoke further into his lungs. 
Only after Hoseok starts the second round of the rotation does he say, “Well, you’ll just have to stay here until the collision or whatever happens.” 
Yoongi’s heart drops into the pit of his stomach while a blinding smile blooms across Jungkook’s face. “Whoa, wait a second. Why can’t he go back to their house?” 
“We can’t leave him alone!” Hoseok chastizes him as though this is the most obvious solution to their dilemma. 
“Hoba, where is he going to sleep?” 
“Your room.” 
Yoongi scoffs. If it’s Hoseok’s bright idea, it should be him giving up his bedroom. “Then where am I sleeping?” 
“The couch.” Hoseok shrugs and passes the joint to a still-hesitant Jungkook. “Or with him, if you’re gonna be a little bitch about the couch. Do you care, Jungkookie?” 
Jungkook inhales too deeply and sputters a rough “No, of course not” in between coughs that sound painful. 
There’s no way in fuck Yoongi’s going to sleep in the same bed as an alien. “Do ali- I mean, Zephi, even need to sleep?” 
Smoke rushes out of Jungkook’s nostrils. The rigid set of his jaw makes him look older and more angular. The masculine aggression of it makes Yoongi’s stomach twist - which he ignores. 
“Yes,” Jungkook hisses. “We are not freaks.”
“No one said you were, kiddo.” Hoseok lightly flicks Jungkook under the chin before shoving the joint in Yoongi’s face with a grimace. “You, behave.” 
With that, Hoseok rises from the couch. He places his hands on his hips and looks between the two men. Yoongi hates when he gets like this, calculating. Usually, whatever that over-imaginative brain cooks up is never good for Yoongi. 
“Is there anything at your house you need while you stay with us?” Hoseok asks with his head tilted to the side as he examines Jungkook. 
The alien - Zephi - chews on his bottom lip. His cheeks are still pink, as are his eyes. Except this time, it’s from being high rather than being some supernatural oddity. 
“They took all my things when they returned home,” Jungkook admits after a long pause. He stares at his hands in his lap, lacing and unlacing his fingers to the point that Yoongi wants to grab his wrists and force them to his sides. “I don’t require much, though. I do not want to be a bother.” 
At that, he steals a shy glance at Yoongi. Yoongi feels heat spread over his cheeks, so he opts to look at Hoseok instead. Which is a mistake because his roommate is glowering at him. 
“Jungkookie, no matter how much of a dick Yoongi is, I promise you are not a bother,” he speaks to Jungkook but keeps his eyes on Yoongi. 
“I’mnotadick,” Yoongi grumbles. He folds his arms against his chest and stares at his reflection in the TV. It’s not a clear reflection, but it’s enough to tell that his hair is, rather unfortunately, sticking straight up on his head. 
“Anyway, I’ll let you borrow some of my clothes. I tend to wear them baggy, so they should fit you fine. I have to go to work soon - I’m a hairstylist. Fucked up, working on the weekends, right? Ahh, but anyway, you can stay with Yoongi.” 
Jungkook merely nods with bright, round eyes gazing up at Hoseok as though the man is divulging his most remarkable secrets. 
“And if he’s mean to you, you can, I don’t know, shoot him with lasers out of your eyes or whatever scary things you’re capable of.”
“Oh, I would never do that,” Jungkook quickly disagrees, turning those beautiful eyes to Yoongi. 
“You can do that?” 
“Yes, but I promise I wouldn’t do that to you. I promise.”
Yoongi throws his head back against the couch and groans. His body starts to slip down the cushions, but he does nothing to stop himself from falling onto the floor. 
“You cannot leave me with him, Hoba.” 
“Oh, hush.” Hoseok swats the back of Yoongi’s head as he makes his way to his bedroom to get ready. “You’ll be besties in no time.” 
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empty-movement · 1 month
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March 29, 1997
There's a new show coming out called Revolutionary Girl Utena, by that guy that did some of Sailor Moon. The show starts on April 2, 1997, so it's almost time!
In the meantime, you've got the March edition of Newtype magazine to flip through--
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Lime is so cute! But flipping through, you find this--
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Damn, a whole two page spread! Looks romantic with all those roses, and that little purple guy... what is that? A monkey? A mouse?
Well, guess you'll find out on April 2nd! Click here to watch along with our Utena Weekly thread on the forum.
Other threads that may be of interest:
Everything Utena, and Where to Find It - Up to date as of Mar 29, 2024 with as many plausibly legal sources as we can give ya, including the game and musicals. Enjoy!
Much Ado About Mitsuru's Storyboards - We managed to snag the storyboards for episode 18, and Vanna does a thorough breakdown of the stuff in them-- and the stuff that got cut from the episode-- here.
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rainbow-nerdss · 4 months
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Fic Writing review 2023!
I was tagged by: @just-my-latest-hyperfixation @aidaronan @exhuastedpigeon @jamespearce9-1-1 @theotherbuckley @aspecbuddie @thewolvesof1998 @daffi-990 (And possibly others, i may have missed one or two, sorry if i did!)
I can't believe 2023 is over, honestly. This year has had some ups and downs for sure but overall I'm so proud of what I've achieved. I started the year mainly writing Stranger Things fics, and while I still love that fandom and all of the wonderful people I met there, my inspiration for writing it was beginning to fade.
And along came 9-1-1. I am so happy with where I've ended up, and for all the new friends I've made since I found this show back in April!
Here's an overview of my year in fic:
Words posted to ao3: 235,060
Words written: 250,465
Works posted: 38
Fandoms posted for: 3 (Stranger Things, 9-1-1, MCU/Captain America)
Specifics and tags are under the cut!
Longest fic:
Crawling on Back to You 109k words, 30 chapters Stranger Things, Steve/Eddie, Rated E
Shortest fic:
Keep on Walkin' and don't look back 521 words Stranger Things, Steve/Eddie, Rated T
Top 5 by kudos:
1. Right in front of your eyes
9-1-1, Buddie, 15k
He and Chris, and Buck. They work, they’re a unit. Why should it matter that he’s single? Buck is watching him, like he’s reading every thought on his face. “You’re already planning to lie about the date. Why don’t you just tell her you met someone yourself?” Eddie shrugs and tilts his head to the side, squinting in thought. “She won’t set me up on dates if she thinks I’ve got someone,” he muses. “But she’ll want to meet whoever it is.” “So... Introduce them?” Or: Buck offers to fake-date Eddie so Pepa will stop setting him up on dates.
2. Pinky Promise
9-1-1, Buddie, 1k
Christopher Diaz doesn't mind that his dad's dating someone new. He's not dumb, he knows there's someone. The way his dad has been smiling lately, the way Chris catches him staring at his coffee, daydreaming like he isn't a grown man. The sleepovers Chris is suddenly allowed to go to on almost a weekly basis. Chris is happy for him, really he is. He’s just not planning to let himself get attached to whoever it turns out to be, just in case. He doesn't need a step-parent, because he has Dad, and he has Buck, and that’s enough. Whoever his dad dates, well. They'll probably leave, eventually. Chris doesn’t need to worry about them. Or: Eddie and Buck come to Chris with some news, and he doesn't take it very well at all.
3. Peek-A-Boo
Stranger Things, Steddie, 1k
Eddie tried not to stare. He really tried. He didn't notice at first, too preoccupied with the tub of pringles he'd been making his way through while talking about Corroded Coffin's last gig. Sure, he'd noticed the shorts. The ridiculous amount of leg Steve was showing, the way they hugged his ass, but it wasn't until Steve moved, lifted one foot to rest on the cushion, knees spread, that Eddie noticed another feature of the shorts. Or: Steve puts on a bit of an accidental show.
4. Definition
9-1-1, Buddie, 2k
It keeps happening, time and time again. People get it wrong. Whatever people say, it feels wrong and they don't know how to set the record straight, until Chris takes it into his own hands. or: 5 times people get Buck's role in Chris's life wrong, and 1 time they set the record straight
5. take my hand (knot your fingers through mine)
9-1-1, Buddie, 4k, written with @pock-o-pea
At least Buck’s okay. He’s outside, safe, doing his job. Buck’s okay, which means no matter what happens inside this van, If the crushing weight of the fridge takes him before Buck can get to him, if the van pancakes or flips or any number of likely disasters occur, if Eddie dies in here, alone, and in pain, then… He thinks of Mallory, of Jo. How they’d called out for each other. His eyes shut briefly as Mallory’s words echo in his head. “She’s not my daughter. Jo’s mother was my best friend… she saved me so many times.” Or: what 6x18 could've been
2023 Events I've participated in: AUgust, Fandom Trumps Hate
Current works in progress:
The bodyguard fic (somebody to someone) -One chapter posted, 3 more written and (almost) ready to post!
Steve time travelling in the upside down (of moments and unmoments (of time lost)) -One posted, two more in the drafts 😁
The break-up fic (you were my town) - Two posted, the third almost ready to post
Season 7 fic: 10 chapters, currently being edited to post
and then a bunch of isolated oneshots I've yet to figure out an ending for: 5+1 times Eddie sees buck with kids that aren't his, friends with benefits, secret relationship, Teacher!Buck, Buckley siblings kiss of death, Buck in the stairs (just started this one last night!)
Goals for 2024:
I want to finish posting all of the WIPs which are already on ao3, post my s7 fic before March 14, keep working on all the WIPs I have in my docs and of course write more and keep sharing!
Most of all I want to keep participating in this wonderful fandom I've found on here, I have had *such* a good time over the past year in fandom 🥰🥰
No pressure tags (sorry if you've already done this and I missed it!)
@hellwrites @the-emdash @wildlife4life @disasterbuckdiaz @loserdiaz @jeeyuns @callmenewbie @911-on-abc @bittersweet-in-boston @kwills91 @trenchcoatsandtimetravel @spotsandsocks @devirnis @housewifebuck @lover-of-mine @gayhoediaz @mojowitchcraft @wikiangela @steadfastsaturnsrings @sunflowerdiaiz @cardamomsage @velvetjinx
Also tagging anyone else who might want to look back at the year and I've accidentally missed!
Rules: Feel free to show whatever stats you have. Only want to show Ao3 stats? Rock on. Want to include some quantitative info instead of stats? Please do this. Want to change how yours is presented? Absolutely do that. Would rather eat glass than do this? Please don’t eat glass but don’t feel like you have to do this either.
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