#bring back basic math for my basic brain

[unicornsaures]

oh my god i need to stop going onto tumblr after writint a single sentence. Doli this is why you cant get shit done

#hashtag i have hw too #fucking POETRY!! #ugh english my beloathed #ironically #i am posting this while I should be writing! #or doing homework #but preferably writing #becausr fuck poetry #and fuck science #biology i truly do hate you #and math #cant forget math #hashtag scientific notation review! #we did this like #too ling ago #get out of here w/ that #'7.9 x 10^5' #like STOTPLL #bring back basic math for my basic brain #go back to long division💯 #(literally learned 6 years ago😕) #bring back easy math im so ass at this #im ranting in tbe tags #as one does

[genericpuff]

On this week's episode of "Webtoon Controversies That Could Have Been Avoided If Only They Had Some Damn Quality Control"-

Oh boy, prepare yourselves, there's some TEA on this one.

Quantum Entanglement, a new Webtoon Originals series from creator Arts Angel (aka Sarah Ellerton) is uh... a teeny weeny painfully obvious that it was made with AI.

AI is getting better, but when it comes to comics, there are still a lot of "tells" you can pick up on once you know where to look. Hands are certainly one of them.

Not knowing how to draw hands efficiently and consistently is definitely an Artist Problem(tm) but it becomes a lot more obvious it was made by AI when you get weird little off-putting mistakes like a fingernail being just a little too long or missing joints (hot dog fingers, eyo) or the distinction between fingers not being clear.

But there's also hair and other detailed parts that are often lost in the translation process between prompt to final piece. Jewelry, text on a screen, phones, that sort of thing. The insinuation of a 'thing' is there, but it's like looking at it through a fishbowl.

And ultimately, a lot of AI art tends to just be a little too 'perfect'. Everything is just a little too smooth for it to look like it was naturally made by a person. Faces end up veering into the uncanny valley territory and there are inconsistencies between the eyes and the rest of the body. Backgrounds become lost in what I like to call "AI goop", becoming nothing more than weird blurred/filtered out insinuations of what's supposed to be behind the character.

Basically, at this point, it's undeniably clear that AI is being used to create this comic. While there are also plenty of signs in the handiwork that show a human was involved in some parts, there are other places that are undeniably filled in with the use of AI. So it's not necessarily a 100% made-by-AI comic, but it's absolutely AI assisted.

But what's REALLY absurd about this whole situation? The creator denies it. To the point of including a disclaimer in the first episode trying to "get ahead" of people who are assuming it's AI by saying, "No, it's not made with AI, here's the proof! Don't look at the blood on my hands or the body in the trunk of my car!"

Now, first off, the absolute absurdity of making yourself look guiltier by trying to prove your innocence before people have even started to suspect you... I'd like to think that this was edited into the first episode after the initial accusations started rolling in but considering it's an Originals series, it's hard to know if it was, as creators typically don't get as much control over just editing their episodes on the fly like Canvas creators do. Typically it's their editors who do that sort of thing for them. And even if it was edited in afterwards, it's still there for people who have no idea going into the comic blind and might not automatically assume it was made with AI, so it just looks like you're bringing up the potential of AI being used completely unprovoked. By planting the idea in your audience's brain that AI is even a question, you're making them suspect everything.

It's kind of like when Dream was suspected of cheating in a way-too-lucky-to-be-real speedrun of Minecraft a couple years back, so he went to all these painstaking efforts of hiring a quantum physicist to "prove" his innocence with a straight up THESIS documenting all of the reasons he couldn't have cheated through math and figures and jargon. Ironically, this just made Dream look guiltier, and sure enough, he eventually admitted he had cheated.

That said, did you notice something in that "art process" pic?

That finished panel isn't even what showed up in the final comic.

So the absurdity of this all, again, just makes Arts Angel look a lot more guilty of actually using AI, especially when it's basically undeniable in so many of those panels above. People don't paint like that.

But that brings us to talking about Sarah Ellerton, aka "Arts Angel", the creator. Many long-time readers of her work are defending this, claiming that she has, in fact, "always drawn like this".

What's insane? She actually is who she says she is. This isn't like some kid who came out of the woodwork with AI and claiming that they had 20 years of experience, Sarah Ellerton's main site, The Seraph-Inn, has been live and crawled by Wayback Machine as far back as 2005.

And you can see the art evolution over the years, starting with Inverloch-

-into Phoenix-

-and all the way to Immaterial-

But here's the thing about that last comic. The main protagonist is, apparently, the same girl from Quantum Entanglement, the newest installment in this series where it becomes abundantly clear the creator has started using AI.

You can see the effects of this being parsed through AI, because she's gone from being a unique character with two-toned hair and darker skin, to being turned into a generic Instagram anime girl. And lemme tell you, AI used in comics has NOT gotten better at depicting darker-skinned characters (I actually tested an AI-coloring tool WT was planning on putting out a year or two ago, it was uh... not great.)

But the most damning thing about Sarah?

She works in IT.

That on its own wouldn't be so telling if it weren't for the 20 years she clearly spent actually honing her craft, only to suddenly switch to using AI as a crutch.

Quantum Entanglement was picked up for Originals in July 2023. It launched two days ago, with four free to read episodes and 6 more under the FastPass paywall. Three months after it got picked up. That turnaround speed is insane for an Originals series. Now, I'm more inclined to believe that maybe she's using the exact same pages she used in the Canvas version (there's unfortunately no way of checking through Wayback, it never crawled the Canvas version, so unless someone has backups of the Canvas pages they're willing to share, we'll never know) but that short turnaround time is insane for a comic that's this insanely detailed. It likely means they didn't need much pre-production time to get a strong buffer going, and that it doesn't take them as long to produce these episodes on a weekly basis so they could be under way less crunch than creators who do this by hand.

By comparison, the winners of the Call to Action contest from last year are STILL working on their pre-production. Many other greenlit Canvas series are known for getting picked up and stuck in pre-production for several months and even a year or more simply due to how the company operates with when it chooses to launch these series and how much pre-production is necessary. Some creators have literally said that their pre-production was done, but WT still kept them waiting to launch. So three months for a freshly greenlit Canvas series to launch is NOT the norm.

All that said, I feel for the people who are trying to defend her. But it's so undeniably AI with the creator herself providing fake proof that it makes it really sad to think that this person was honing their craft for 20 years just to wind up utilizing AI. Being a good artist does not make you immune to the temptation of using cheap methods or developing bad habits. Going through "the struggle" does not make you immune to taking shortcuts that wind up cheapening your work or taking advantage of the work of others.

Now, maybe Sarah trained AI around her art. If this didn't play out the way it did, I'd be willing to give her benefit of the doubt and assume that. Training AI off your own work, while still up for debate as to how ethical that is, at least doesn't hurt other artists, because it's your own work the AI is "stealing". There are definitely ways AI could be used to make life easier for artists without replacing the art process entirely, the same way artists have learned to use 3D assets and digital art filters to make their process more efficient and boost the quality of their art up to the next level.

But the fact that she's being so cagey over it, claiming she's not using AI period when she very clearly is, providing "proof" that actually proves she definitely used AI, while operating under a penname that's strangely similar to a name Grimes - former tech wife of Elon Musk and staunch supporter of AI - used for one of her studio albums-

- that's what makes it a lot more clear she's using it maliciously.

The AI is very likely trained off another artist's work. Maybe someone whose art style is similar enough to hers that she could integrate it into her own and pass it off as legitimate. Someone whose art style is cartoonish but still modern, like if Disney made anime. Someone who's so prolific and consistent in their stylization that training an AI off it would seem like a no brainer to those who want to replicate that style quickly and easily.

Damn. What a disappointment. Do better, Sarah.

And for god's sakes, Webtoons, pay more fucking attention. I've been steadily picking away at moving the entirety of my comics over to other platforms on a weekly schedule, but at this point I kinda just wanna dump the last 30 or so chapters onto ComicFury all at once so I can ditch this platform for good, especially if it turns out AI comics getting greenlit is a feature, not a bug. The ratings for Quantum Entanglement have dropped significantly overnight, now sitting around 5.09 and still dropping, but is Webtoons going to do anything about it? That remains to be seen.

#webtoon critical #anti AI #quantum entanglement #quantum entanglement webtoon #webtoon controversy

[rustingcat]

Chapter 3 Kara

"For years I felt the weight of Krypton, its legacy and history laid on my shoulders, and I felt like a failure for never having the chance to educate Kal. But after learning about Argo, it's like some of this weight was lifted off my shoulders, knowing I'm not the only one out there who remembers, that it's not on me. Yet, I feel detached? I don't know, it feels different from what I remember. I mean it is different, it's nothing like how Krypton was, but they are all Kryptonians. You know what I mean?" Kara turned to Lena, she wasn't sure what she was hoping to find in her eyes, but it softened the moment they met.

"I think so." Lena nodded. "Although, considering that you were barely a teenager back then, it would make sense."

"I suppose." Kara swallowed hard.

They were sitting on Kara’s couch with the plans for the machine laying in front of them.  It was two days after they had come back from Argo. Kara had managed to translate most of it, enough for them to at least start.

"You mentioned that you can basically control how the child would turn up with the matrix, right?"

"Not exactly, you can't control your child's every decision, but essentially yes. You can choose how they look, and you can choose their um… brain type? We had a name for it in Kryptonese."

"So did your parents choose what you would be?" Lena finally asked.

"In some ways, yes." She said a bit distanced. "They didn't care much about my appearance or gender, but they made sure my mind would be sharp, curious and analytical. Basically creating me to be a scientist before I was even born. And it worked, you know? I grew up loving it. As my dad said, I was the youngest person to be considered to join the science guild, and I bet I would've gotten in too."

Lena remained silent. Not that she expected her to say anything, but she wasn't sure what to do nex.

Kara took a sip of her water. Staring intensity into the plans, yet not really focused on them she continued talking. "I thought about it a lot, you know, how my life would look like had I grown up there. What could I have created, how many lives I could've improved, how much I could've advanced our species. But the more I think about it the more I realised how lucky I was to escape that fate." Kara finally dared to raise her head, meeting Lena's gaze as she felt her eyes fill with water. "Am I a bad person for thinking that?" Her voice broke as the tears started running freely down her face. 

Lena scooted over, engulfing her dearest friend in a tight hug. "Not at all." She whispered in her ear. "There's nothing wrong about finding happiness. But we'll make sure that if we ever make this public we'll do our best so that no one could use it to put more pressure on anyone." She combed her fingers through her hair to ground her.

Kara exhaled a breath she wasn't aware she was holding. The reason the plans were not yet fully translated were not because of language complications or any math difficulties, but because she couldn't bring herself to complete it. It felt too heavy of a task.

"It's just- that I love my job. I love singing, painting, and playing games with my friends and I know that I would've never gotten to do any of that had I lived on Krypton. It was all about doing your part, and not much else. And there are still many many good things that I loved about Krypton and many problems I have with earth. But I still prefer to be here, and I feel awful about it. Like I failed everyone, I failed my purpose in life."

"You are Kara Zor-El Danvers. Your name tells a journey and your journey is not yet over. You are not a bad person for having emotions. You've been through a lot and you still came out on top. You are still so full of kindness, love, and hope. How can that be a failure? How can it be anything but the greatest thing in life? You are amazing Kara and I'm sure the rest of your journey would be just as amazing."

"Thank you." Kara whispered into her neck in a sob.

"How about we order another pizza and watch a movie instead?" Lena suggested, whispering quietly in her ear.

"Yeah," Kara smiled weakly. "That would be great."

#Kara learning to learn herself #a journey all by itself #supercorp #supergirl #kara danvers #lena luthor #art #supercorptober #supercorptober2023 #my art #my fic

[bibbykins]

Moonlight Reign Ch.1

A/N: Instead of forcing myself to focus on one series at a time, I'm planning to write what sparks joy to write in the moment and post it as I go! Hopefully this will clear some wips and help me feel less disorganized lmao! Not to say I'm not working on THB, I def am I just want to have something to post as I work on THB and the bigger projects like the LWAB fics among other things! So (hopefully) I'll keep these chapters limited to 5-7k, but we'll see lol pls enjoy and send me asks I thrive on them and so does my motivation!

And a huge thank you to my wonderful B @rapline-heaux for beta-reading ily!!

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Yandere! Mafia! BTS x Reader

Words: 5.7k

Warnings: crime, sensory flashbacks, trauma, unhealthy relationships, yandere behavior not rlly in this part but soon, pining, violence, past abuse, past neglect, academic neglect, stitches, drunk Jungkook, tackling, pinning someone down, mention of open relationship, poly is the norm is this au

“It’s time to go now.” 

1, 2, 3, 4

“Five years after the fall of the underground power family, Moon Corporation, people still suspect an even more powerful company has taken their place since…”

1, 2, 3, 4

“It’s… so red…”

1, 2, 3, 4

“The exposure beheld more answers than questions, but on the five-year anniversary of the suicidal explosion that killed the head, Moon Byungyeol and his daughter, the elusive green-haired girl who was 18 at the time, colleagues mourn in secret and establishments fear an anniversary heist or something worst than last year as the date rapidly approaches…”

1, 2, 3, 4

“Locals have several theories on the big conglomerate that now controls Seoul’s business, underground and above, with the mafia organizations and gangs running rampant, people fear the government is under their thumb as well…”

1, 2- SHUT UP

You inhaled deeply as if just surfacing from the drowning body of water residing in your brain. Your fingers stilled from the tapping, a  desperate attempt to make you surface, a sorry technique your brief stint in therapy drilled into you. Maybe having nothing led to illogical personal connections with a number. Of all your training as an heir, it was the mundane basic curriculum lessons that fascinated you the most. You were never good at math, but you loved to be perplexed by the numbers. It was a humbling experience, and in your fruitless calculations, four was always the easiest to wrap your head around. Of course, you didn’t know how humbled you’d be until you were a 20 year old trying to figure out how to do middle school math. Your education left much to be desired growing up, but you still enjoyed learning. 

You used to be convinced four was too perfect of a number for such an ugly world, and though you let go of the notion with your past life, it didn’t change that it was a world you had to feign blind to now. In your youth, four was a beautiful result of a simple equation, a funny origin to big numbers. It was a warm hug among the violent reactions when you’d get questions far below your intended grade level wrong. In a world where stuffed animals were banned from your childhood room, the number four was all you had. You didn’t particularly like how pathetic that made you feel, but it didn’t change how much it helped you on days like these.

Your palms retracted from their firm placement on the wall you leaned on, relaxing you. Releasing your slightly curled fingers, you stifled a bitter laugh at the desperate attempt to grasp onto something. It was always so degrading to scrub off the marks your acrylics made along the wall, but the stiletto nails made taps loud enough to bring you back. It was an absolute mystery how the school you worked at let you get away with these. 

Your little episode was finished as you settled your mind with the news continuing to drone on. You massaged your jaw, sore from the subconscious clench you were cursed with. You blew out a sigh as you felt your face and nodded when no tears were felt. Your phone buzzed, alerting you to the time and you groaned. Your damn neighbor would be here any minute now.

Jungkook wasn’t a mean guy by any means, quite the opposite. He was extremely insistent on your well-being, so much so it bordered on doting, and such behavior made you clam up. You didn’t know how to respond to his fussing over you. Hell, you didn’t know how to respond to most interactions outside of your old family business for a long while. That was just one of the many things he taught you, and he never once lost his cool doing so. He was patient with you, and you didn’t know how to thank him for it. 

You both had been in the same class when you attended university, and while you were fine with letting your temporary acquaintanceship go no further than asking for notes or the occasional study session, he was a force to be reckoned with. You just kept running into him and when you moved here and found he was your next-door neighbor, you knew there was no getting out of it. He was going to be your friend. Although, you never understood why he wanted to be so bad. 

Cut to a whole year after you both graduated, and it still didn’t make any sense. You both were polar opposites in a lot of ways. He was the regular party boy always at clubs and coming home at ungodly hours of the night. Meanwhile, you were usually in bed by 11:00 pm and only left your apartment for the job that barely covered your rent. Needless to say, you weren't exactly a social butterfly, so if you found one friend in Jungkook, you figured it wouldn't be such a crime.

However, having Jungkook as a friend meant having a weekly dinner with him as he mooched off of your TV and you mooched off of the food he paid for. It was an even enough exchange. Plus, it was nice to talk freely, or well, as free as you've ever been able to, even if just for a little bit.

You faced the mirror, patting down your hair, thankful for how much healthier it was without the cheap dye job you had done yourself when you were 14, “That green didn’t suit me at all,” You mused, fixing your hair, “Plus it nearly ruined my hair.” You murmured to no one in particular, keeping track of your speeding thoughts as you settled back into Earth. 

Jungkook knocked on the door and you nodded to yourself, “It’s open!” You called and sat down at the table as he walked in, take-away bags in his hands.

“You really shouldn’t leave your door open like that, you know.” He tsked like he always did. It just made sense to leave it unlocked when you knew he was coming, especially if you needed to run to the bathroom so you could finish crying before facing him. Of course, you haven't had to do that in a while, but better safe than sorry. Your issues, for lack of better term, were no secret to Jungkook, and you both knew it, but you liked to avoid having him see you at your most vulnerable when you could help it.

You simply shrugged as you helped him unpack the food, “We’re the only ones on the top floor.” You reminded him, “it would be quite silly of a criminal to come all the way up to the 20th floor.” You chided.

“Still.” He tried to argue but quickly gave up. Jungkook knew by now that you could take care of yourself, but sometimes you wished you’d let him do it for you more often. However, he let this potential argument go, this time. He looked around and narrowed his gaze at the TV, “Why do you still have the news on?” 

You paused and looked up from your food as it prattled on about your family, “I guess I forgot,” You forced your casual tone, “Did you get-”

“Syndicates, huh…?” He echoed the news reporter’s words, eyes fixated on the screen with a curious look, “The news is so weird with this stuff.”

The chopsticks in your hand stilled. You wanted to say that the syndicates were even weirder since they were the ones that probably signed off on the script. As a little girl, that was the first thing you had learned, how to play chess outside on a park bench, how to play chess crushing people in your hands as you moved them. It had all been the same to you for far too long. 

“Like I care, it’s just background noise.” A lie, you hated lying, but it was something you had to get used to doing for the sake of your safety.

“You aren't scared of these guys at all?” Jungkook looked at you like you were crazy, although his eyes didn't match the rest of his face's intensity.

Shaking off the weird notion, you rolled your eyes, “A world without you buying me dinner is pretty spooky but that,” You gestured to the TV, “Is a cheap haunted house in comparison to the hell of making dinner or worse, ordering it myself, on a Friday night.” You giggled.

Jungkook rolled his eyes with a scoff, “Is that all I am to you? A sugar daddy?” He asked in mock offense and you nearly spit out your drink.

You swallowed roughly before glaring at him as he laughed, “If you’re my sugar daddy, I need a new one.” You retorted and his laugh died while a childish pout settled on his face, “I mean, all I get is a measly dinner once a week and I still have to work and pay my bills?” 

“Well, what do I get, huh?” He crossed his arms, and it made you chuckle. Laughter had never come easy to you growing up, and it still had a hard time coming to you but after years by Jungkook’s side it was easier than ever to do, “Where’s my sugar?” He thrusted his cheek toward you, tapping on it with his index finger.

You rolled your eyes in spite of the flutter in the pit of your stomach and pushed his face away with your index finger, “My presence is your sugar, dummy.” You teased and how easy it was to be human around him made you smile wider, “Plus I let you watch your silly little shirtless men.” 

He clicked his tongue, “First of all, if you’re going to call them shirtless men, at least call them hot because look at him.” He pressed a button on your remote and his favorite fighter, Park Jimin filled the screen, “Second of all, it’s literally fewer syllables to just say MMA fights.”

You took a bite of your food and shrugged, “Don’t you have, like, a million boyfriends? Wouldn’t you make them jealous drooling all over Jimin?” You challenged, vaguely remembering Jungkook saying he had more than three boyfriends at some point. Not that it was surprising, most people had at least two significant others. Unless they were you, of course. You had no one to talk to but the man sitting in front of you, forget about a significant other. “He would make me pretty damn insecure.” You chuckled.

Jungkook scrunched his brows at you, “Six.” He corrected, mirth filling his eyes already.

You looked from the TV to him, “Hm?” You tilted your head to the side.

“I have six boyfriends, thank you very much.” He stated matter-of-factly, and you rolled your eyes at his tone, “Why? Are you trying to give me seven significant others?” He feigned a scandalous gasp, “Well, the relationship is open, you know, so I guess I could pencil you in–” You cut him off by shoving a piece of chicken in his mouth with a glare. The teasing made your chest seize for a split moment when faced with his teasing smirk, so this had been the best way to shut him up. 

Jungkook had always been a flirt, he often relished in teasing you to see how embarrassed you would get. Thankfully, over the years you had gotten used to it. You had already known his relationship was open since he mentioned how often they’re all apart, but you didn’t care to entertain that kind of intimacy with Jungkook even in your thoughts these days. It was just better that way.

“Ha, ha, we got a comedian.” You deadpanned and before you could say anything else, something on the screen caught your eyes, “What the fuck?” You mumbled.

“What?” Jungkook inquired as he looked at the TV, swallowing the food you fed him.

The camera had panned over the crowd and over an eerily familiar face poorly covered with sunglasses. The etching of a scar peeking out of the cheap frames told you all you needed, though. That was your uncle. 

What the hell was he doing showing his face? Let alone this close to the five-year anniversary of everything. The new syndicate in charge took great joy in celebrating the fall of your family, no doubt they’re itching for someone to make an example of someone. Worry tried to leak its way into your veins, but you fought it. Why should you care about him? If he wanted to sign his death certificate, that was on him.

Still, the sight of a man you were almost positive you’d never see again made you feel uneasy. You’d acclimated to regular life quite well, so one of the few remnants of your past life appearing like a ghost was ominous. In spite of your unease, you couldn’t look away. Almost as if you were waiting for him to poof away. You kinda wished he would. 

The camera changed and you finally blinked.

“N-Nothing.” You finally said, shaking your head, “I just thought I recognized someone, that’s all.” Your hands trembled for the briefest of moments as you lifted food to your mouth.

“Oh really, who?” Your only friend asked curiously and you shrugged as you chewed.

“Just some teacher that called in today.” You lied and it made your food taste sour for a moment. It was for the best you lied, you had to keep reminding yourself of that. 

“Hell, I’d call in too if it meant I could see the fight live.” You were thankful Jungkook dropped the topic and let your shoulders relax. You shouldn’t feel bad for lying, really. An unspoken rule between you both was that you never pried about private details. Jungkook led his life and you led yours. Hell, you don’t even know what he does for a living, but it wouldn’t surprise you if it was living off of his boyfriends’ income. Not to mention you didn’t even know if he lived with anyone else next door or if that was just a place of his own to use on occasions. Though, you couldn’t help being a little jealous at the idea of being so pampered. 

“Yeah, I could go for a silly little shirtless man fight on occasion.” You shrugged with a cheeky grin. 

“Silly?!” Jungkook guffawed, “I’ll have you know if he wins this fight, he’ll qualify for the championship, so this is pretty high stakes.” He toted his knowledge of the sport.

“Hasn’t he already been champion like a few times now?” You asked, barely following.

“Yeah, but, he’s been off his game this season for… personal reasons, so he’s never been this close to not qualifying.” He admitted, and your brows scrunched at the melancholy in his eyes. 

“Damn.” You mustered, “How do you know all this?” You asked, genuine curiosity lighting your eyes.

Suddenly, Jungkook’s cheeks reddened as he tore his eyes from you, “Interviews and stuff, you know.” He waved his hand dismissively and you rolled your eyes. 

“Nothing wrong with being a fanboy.” You chided, “I’m certainly in no place to judge.” You offered, reminding him of your fixation on TV dramas, making him snort before you both honed in on the TV.

These fights were quite fascinating and allowed you to at least tap into some of your training. It was how you knew that Jimin was going to win this fight from the first calculated punch, his form was immaculate and instead of going for the face, he drove his fist into his opponent’s ear. It was a dirty trick, but it was more than enough to give him an opening. 

“Holy shit, I think he might win this.” The fanboy across from you breathed. 

“No way he isn’t going to win.” You confirmed.

“Don’t get my hopes too far up.” He all but squeaked out, basically on the edge of his seat.

After a couple of rounds and idle chitchat, the fight ended with Jimin as the victor. You clapped lightly, but Jungkook was so elated he hugged you as he let out a celebratory roar. The first couple of times he did this shocked you so bad your hands almost went to snap his neck. Now that you were both years into the friendship though, the gesture just made you chuckle. Soon after, just like it did every match, Jungkook’s phone vibrated and he had to leave. He always left you with some kind of affection and this time it was a kiss on the cheek, a rare one, but not a huge step from the common forehead kisses he gave you.

“Don’t drink too much.” You warned and he flashed you a cheeky smile, “At least don’t get into trouble.”

“We’ll see.” He chuckled,  and you rolled your eyes.

“Well then don’t make it my problem!” You yelled and he waved a hand as he closed your door behind him. 

—

“Father?” You whimpered as a strong hand patted your head to calm you, or soften the blow of what was to come, you couldn’t quite tell, “Tell me you didn't.” Your voice was in shambles as you trembled beneath his palm.

The news mocked you as panic took a hold of your body, shaking it out of the shred of blissful ignorance you had clung onto. Ever since your father took you in, you had many responsibilities, but the comfort of not needing to keep up with the public facade kept you going. You hated the public, all the pleasantries, and honeyed words. None of it made sense, and now, now you felt foolish for not involving yourself more. For not ensuring that something like this could never happen and crumble the only world you’ve known. 

Still, even as despair monopolized your nerves, a tear wouldn’t fall. You weren’t sure if you knew how to shed them, but you knew it would only piss off your father. 

Moon Byungyeol was a rough man and calling him father teetered between feeling genuine and like a formality. He was a boss first, but sometimes he wore the mask of a dad. Sometimes, but it was enough times with enough gusto that you couldn’t tell which side of him best represented his true self– or if he even had a truthful bone within himself. 

He may have been rough, but he was all you had. He and the family he brought you into had been your first priority all your life, even when you had never really been his priority at all.

Not unless you could be used as currency. 

“Y/n, it's time for us to go,” His voice was somber, but even. You’d never seen him so outwardly upset, but even so, he didn’t so much as let his eyes water as his life’s work shattered before his eyes. He was left with a subdued longing as he looked at the TV, melancholic defeat infecting his usually strong posture, “I let this greed consume me, and I'm afraid it's begun eating not just me alive now.” He admitted and it made you feel ill. 

“...such evidence is linking the Moon Corporation to heinous organized crime activities painting them as a possible syndicate, but no arrests have been made nor has a formal criminal investigation on Moon Byungyeol himself been launched, but many workers under the company are being investigated due to possible involvement…”

Everything was dying. The realization that everything you did, all the lives you took, all the training you had suffered through, had never been for some prosperous empire you were promised. All of it had been to supply the lining of your father’s and uncle’s pockets. You should’ve been angry, shocked, or even appalled, but you weren't. You were numb to the fact that you were raised on lies. Fear resided in your veins about what that meant for you. 

“If I just cash out and retire, we could never live in peace,” He shook his head as he switched off the TV before he placed his hands on your shoulder, catching your attention, “But Uncle Byungjoo has a plan that I think might just work.” You swallowed hard at this. Anything Byungjoo could think seldom meant good things for you. On your best days with him, you were a mere afterthought, but on the worst days– most days– you were–”The only thing is that you and I will have to… separate…”

He was going to abandon it. No, he was going to abandon you. The only thing more pitiful than your fear had to be your shock. What reason did you truly have to be surprised that he was throwing you away just as easily as he picked you? He was going to cash out one last time, and leave like this whole operation meant nothing to him. All the while you had put an inkling of faith in his heart to love this empire, like a fool. At the very least, it was the closest thing to love that you knew. This entire place was all you knew. When was the last time you had gone out on your own as anything but his daughter?

“But…” Your mouth was woefully dry, “The empire, just like you said, it’s-”

“We were never an empire,” His self-loathing clung to each word and disgust curled in your stomach as you looked at his solemn face, “I treated this organization as a bank, a money maker, it was inevitable that the paper I cradled would catch fire.” The roundabout way he was speaking began to grate at your nerve. The pseudo-poeticism of his words did nothing to save his dignity, but you didn’t tell him that. 

You didn't scream, yell, or cry. 

At least you hadn't, yet.

“Then who will rule Seoul?” You wondered aloud.

“That’s not my problem anymore.” He said as if it were the easiest thing to come to terms with.

“Who will stay with me?” You asked meekly, immediately regretting it as you watched his previous words dance on his lips before he decided against it.

He smiled warmly at you and it brought a chill down your spine, “Some of us are meant to be alone.” He patted your shoulder and you wanted so badly to break into pieces from the impact. 

No one would stay with you. Not him, not anyone, and he didn't care.

That wasn't the answer you had hoped for. You hung your head in shame, shame that you expected anything other than a cold answer from a man on fire. The request for him to just kill you was on the time of your tongue before he turned around, ready to attend his last hurrah.

////

You woke up with a start from a bang outside, but considering the fact that it was 4 am, you chalked it up to city noise. Now awake, you stared at the ceiling and blew out an annoyed sigh. You were constantly plagued with flashbacks both in and out of your dreams, and you wished the rancid memories would choose one state of consciousness to haunt you in. Your therapist a couple of years back told you it's normal for people who have gone through what you have to constantly see what you were then in trying to dissect where you are now. Essentially, it was a constant cloud that hung over your head, and no matter how far you removed yourself from that life, its consequences would stay etched into your skin.

Another bang sounded outside your window and you grimaced. Anniversary week was beginning, and you felt more on edge than usual.

Five years ago exactly, you saw the match light. In four days, it will have officially been five years since you saw the flames engulf your home, your family, and everything you were. Each year, this week was chaos for the city of Seoul. Each day was accompanied by an event that slowly grew more and more above ground. It was almost mocking the past, the surfacing of dirty secrets. Secrets the world knew, but never wanted to see, cowards.

The new syndicate at the top of the kingdom was known as Bangtan to the underground scene, but with a “Group” tacked on after the ominous name, they were also the kings of the business world. They were much better at actually hiding their identities, hence why most average people assumed there was no such syndicate anymore or that the “law” took care of it. As if the “law” wasn’t under the thumb of the kings. 

Even so, your information could very well be outdated. The whispers from the underground, also known as the Underworld or even more to the point, Hell, reached your ears less and less as you removed yourself from the lives of anyone who knew who you were. No longer working at the diner your previous nanny ran shut you off from the underground so much so you seldom became aware of Anniversary Week’s events until two days before the main event. 

Another bang, but this time on your door, startled you out of your thoughts, “I can’t believe you went to the bar on a day like today- where are your keys?!” An unfamiliar voice spoke through your door.

“Ask, y/n,” Jungkook’s slurred voice rang out in a yell as you flinched at the volume, “Y/n! I need stitches!” 

This wasn't the first time Jungkook was yelling outside your door, demanding your assistance. This was just another facet of your friendship that you both silently agreed was fine. You never really asked questions, you just patched him up and left him on your couch. It really wasn't any of your business, nor did you have any desire for it to be. Jungkook was an MMA fan, and you knew he was big on that scene and the fitness scene, so it just made sense he would get into fights. You could only hope these fights were agreed upon prior to alcohol, but you weren't naive enough to actually assume that was the case.

“This isn’t even your door, baby, come on.” The voice grunted and your attention peaked. You had encountered a few men trying to help Jungkook home, but you seldom got such an obvious confirmation of their relationship with him, “What? Are you trying to booty call your neighbor?” The unknown man teased and you rolled your eyes. Were they all like this?

“I wish!” Jungkook shouted in response and you were fine with leaving your door closed this time until he spoke, “Ew, I’m dripping on the doormat.”

This made you huff as you hopped out of bed in your large t-shirt and shorts and ripped the door open. You were faced with a man with perfectly styled black hair in a three-piece suit accompanied by a trashed Jungkook with a short, but deep, cut on the corner of his forehead. The man that looked a few years older than you and Jungkook stopped struggling with your neighbor as he looked at you with the most pristine and exasperated face.Everything about this man was polished. Even as your neighbor lazily draped around the man, his suit had barely begun to wrinkle. 

Meanwhile, he looked you up and down with contempt before sighing, “Look, just forget we were-”

“Y/n!” Jungkook cheered before he passed out.

“No booty calls here, sorry.” You remarked flatly, “He usually keeps his keys in his wallet for some reason.” You nodded to his pocket before you looked at his forehead again, “But he does need stitches.” You opened your door a little more, gesturing for them to come in.

The man narrowed his eyes at you, “Do you usually play nurse for him?” You bit your tongue and swallowed his condescending tone with a sigh. You couldn’t tell if he was jealous at the thought of his boyfriend having some neighbor who treats his wounds in the dead of night or if he simply didn’t like you. Although looking at his face, there was no way this man was jealous of you. His gaze was sharp nonetheless, sharp and vaguely familiar, but his eyes held no recognition for you, so you let it go.

“Only when his blood is dripping on my doormat, for the third time this month,” You pointed to the sullied mat that you had just cleaned fully this week, “Bring him in, this isn’t that uncommon-” 

“But-” He tried to object, noticeably a little clammy at the unspoken knowledge of their relationship. 

“Any more blood on that mat and I'm making you pay for it, now come on,” You snapped as he walked in and sat Jungkook in a chair around your table. You shut the door as you pulled your first aid kit out, “You have to sit him on the floor or the couch.”

He complied to the couch, and though he didn’t say anything, you could see the question floating around his mind.

“When he wakes up, he attacks whoever is in front of him,” You spoke, preparing the needle and thread, and you had to ignore the curiosity peaking within you when you saw the other man shift uncomfortably at your comment,  “And I can't stitch and hold him down at the table,” You explained, settling your knees to lock on both sides of Jungkook’s legs and your elbows pressing on his shoulders.

“Aren't you scared he'll hurt you?” The man asked as you began stitching.

You scoffed, “I can play scared if that's what you want, but certainly not for free.” You chuckled, but he remained straight-faced. Tough crowd. You worked very hard to develop your banter skills these past five years, but he paid them no mind making your smile drop. 

Eventually, you just went on stitching in silence until the man broke the silence, “Who are you?” The man spoke mid-way through your stitching.

You paused for a moment, “Didn't you hear Jungkook? I’m y/n, and who are you?”

“None of your concern,” He clipped.

You snorted a chuckle, “You're bleeding on my hardwood floor, that has me pretty concerned.” You gestured to your hand to show him the small cut on his and he slowly grabbed a napkin to press against his hand with his mouth in a thin line, “Concerned for my floor I mean.” You clarified, “But a word of advice? If you don’t want to be suspicious of you, don’t act suspicious.” 

He sighed, “My name is Namjoon-”

You were tying the final knot when Jungkook snapped his eyes open, “Shit.” Was all you were able to get out. He immediately dove at you, pushing you to the floor, making the needle in your hand scratch your forearm before you threw it across the room to avoid the tempting notion of stabbing him with it. You sucked in a breath through your teeth at the burning sensation while you struggled to shake him out of it. 

It didn’t take a genius to deduce why Jungkook’s fight or flight was so concentrated, he’d obviously grown up with a reason to be. Nevertheless, it has never been your place to pry or judge, if anything, it’d be quite hypocritical. He'd seen you in a less-than-ideal mental state plenty of times, to put it lightly. Plus, you knew he didn’t mean any harm, and he was always pretty apologetic after the fact. Although, you were sure the struggle looked pretty concerning as you saw Namjoon scramble to his feet. 

Namjoon was trying to find an opening to cut in between the battle as Jungkook was sloppily throwing his fist down and you were moving your head to dodge each blow. Though his moves were sloppy, they were still fast and you could only dodge for so long. With no other option left, you sighed before slamming your forehead on his fresh stitches to make him stop to register the pain. You took advantage of the opening as you effortlessly pinned his arms down with your knees planted on his upper arms, “Jungkook!” You snapped as Namjoon watched his younger friend finally recognize you in his drunken haze.

“Y-Y/n?” He questioned, his tongue thick in his mouth, “You hurt my head- hey, you’re bleeding on my shirt!”

Your arm had a scratch about half the length of your forearm, it was shallow and oozing blood, but you didn’t flinch, “Wonder who made me hurt both my arm and their head, dumbass,” You muttered, examining his stitches to make sure the impact didn’t affect the new suture, “And you got your blood on my doormat and my forehead, so let’s call it a draw.” You grunted as you fixed the suture.

The sight of someone towering over his boyfriend after headbutting them made Namjoon on edge. Jungkook talked for days and days about how much he loved spending time with his neighbor, but something was… off about you. Why would a school nurse be that skilled in combat? Jungkook was a ruthless fighter and you hardly flinched. 

This string of thoughts prompted his mistake of grasping your wounded forearm to make you stand so he could properly question you. What he didn’t calculate in that movement was the fact that he grasped your fresh cut, which hurt like a bitch. This pain made you bring your other forearm to his neck, pressing firmly into his trachea as his back hit the wall with a bang. You both looked at each other in surprise at your reflex. You gasped softly before releasing him, “Don’t ever manhandle a lady, Namjoon,” You mumbled as you brought distance between the two of you, “I don’t do well being frightened.”

Namjoon regained his composure, impressed by your reaction time and ability to weaken his pride in such a short matter of seconds, “Who are you?” His tone was rougher in comparison to when he first asked the question.

“None of your concern,” You mocked his voice cartoonishly, becoming more and more irritated with his line of questioning, “Now take him, an alcohol pad, and go.” You hissed, unceremoniously tossing the package at him.

He gave you a sharp glare but complied, hauling Jungkook over his shoulder and leaving.  The door shut and you let a relieved sigh escape you. You shut your eyes tightly, frustrated that you let your instincts take over like that. Namjoon was undoubtedly suspicious and that’s the last thing you needed. You opened your eyes and caught sight of the clock nearing 5 am, and it was a Saturday now, so you were going to sleep in as much as you could.

----------------------------------------------------------

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Masterlist

#bts mafia au #bts fanfic #bts series #bts poly au #ot7 x reader #yandere bts #yandere bts x reader #bts x reader #mafia bts #yandere mafia bts

[irisxstardust]

— snow on the beach » e. williams

a/n: i've been obsessed with this for days now i had to get it out of my brain. if something isn't right or factual, no it isn't. hope u enjoy anyway. also idk if this'll have multiple parts i just ended it where it felt right. also i'm bad at summaries just read it anyway. based off the taylor swift song hyperlinked here.

summary: you're minding your own business when the familiar book in your hand sparks ellie williams' interest. a couple french fries and cold drinks later, you're on her surfboard learning how to surf; you've always wanted to learn, but actually learning seemed as rare as snow on the beach. so what happens when it snows on the beach?

cw: (very minimal) swearing, suggestive desc, its really just fluff tbh. didn't describe reader or their clothing/hair at all. surfing is a pretty inclusive sport as is so there's no worries there.

pairings: (loser) sufer!ellie x beachy!reader

wc: 2.5k

You stand up, quickly rubbing grains of sand off your backside before turning to face down your towel. Grabbing it by the corners you lift it up and sake it, clumps of sand falling away into the ground beneath you. 

The wind had been extra harsh all afternoon, leaving a fine dusting of sand all over your beach gear. You would huff, stand up, shake out your towel, and flop down on it only to repeat the process again twenty minutes later. 

You sit back down on the towel, picking your book up and flipping back to your marked page, little sand grains embedded in creases in random pages. 

The book was new, one you'd bought with the beach in mind, and all you wanted to do was read it. Obviously, the wind had other ideas - as did the universe. 

"Good book." 

You hum, head shooting towards the speaker. A young woman comes into view, hair short enough that it cups her jawline, wearing short black shorts and holding a cream-colored surfboard.

"That's a good book. I read it last year in my English Lit. class. Worth it," she nods, eyes glancing from your book to your face.

You recognized her from countless beach days prior - she always came alone, always left alone, and almost never spoke to anyone aside from a polite "morning" or "see you later" to other surfers. She was in some of your classes too, only the science or math ones, though, and you were fairly certain she was a STEM major. 

"Oh, yeah! I'm only halfway through but it's really good so far," you smile, "only got it to read here." You shrug and pull your legs in, sitting criss-cross on your towel, mind swimming as your eyes skim the girl.

"You come to the beach just to read?"

You roll your eyes, "it's not a bad thing - plenty of people do it." 

She doesn't respond aside from the nod of her head, eyes now focused on the ocean in front of you. 

"There's not many surfers today," you say suddenly, "watched them all leave a few hours ago." 

She nods, "yeah, I haven't been here in a while either; hasn't been any good waves recently." 

"Didn't look like it."

She chuckles, her eyes glancing over at you again - up, down / down, up. She scans your little area as if she was looking for something before bringing her eyes back up to your face. 

"You didn't bring any water with you to the beach?"

You shake your head, "I left my bottle on the counter at home." 

She exhales loud - laughing quietly, "Wanna grab something with me?" Her head gestures toward the restaurants on the boardwalk though her eyes stay trained on you. 

You ponder it for a moment before marking your page and setting your book on your towel. "Where were you thinking?"

She grins, "which is your favorite?" 

•••

"So, how long have you been surfing?" You ask, hand resting gently around your cool glass of water. 

She swallows a bite of her fries and leans back, looking up in thought. She finally looks back down and shrugs, "couple years. Ever since I moved here, basically." 

"Is it fun? It looks fun," you turn to glance at the beach through the window before turning back to the girl - now known as Ellie. "I love to watch people surf."

"Oh yeah, I love it," she smiles. "You've never tried it?"

You shake your head, furrowing your brows out of surprise, "oh absolutely not," you scoff. "That'd be like if it... if it snowed on the beach - fucking insane." 

She shrugs, "you never know until you try it." Her eyes have a devious tint to them, her voice suggestive. 

So you walk out of the restaurant together, across the beach to your towel and her board, little whips of excitement flashing through your veins. 

"Is it hard?" 

"Nah," she shakes her head and scoffs, "just gotta get used to it. You can practice here for now." 

She flips her board in the sand so it is facing the right way, waxy side up, and she pats it a few times with her hands. 

"The wax might feel a little weird but it's not really noticeable in the water," she says, resting on her knees to the side of the surfboard. "Uh, here, lay on it." 

"What?" 

"You have to lay on it," her face it blank, ears red. "You know... in the water when you start paddling towards the wave... you have to lay on it." 

"Oh! Yeah..." but your feet are unmoving. You stand there, at the edge of her surfboard, rethinking the position you put yourself in. 

"Here, I'll show you." 

She stands again and you step back. 

She drops herself on top of the board, straddling either side of it while looking up at you. "If you're just sitting there you can sit like this: one leg on either side of the board. It's easier to lay down when you sit like this." 

You nod, eyes scanning her sandy legs. Her top is digging into her sides tightly and you think that looks uncomfortable as she shifts her position. 

She shifts so she is laying on the board, stomach flat against it. "That's how you'll lay down. Just-" she does it again. "Like that." 

You nod, again. You're briefly rendered speechless while you watch her muscles flex as she lays down again. 

"Then," her voice snaps you back to reality. "When you're ready for the wave, you gotta jump up-" she props herself up with each arm holding either edge of the board while her legs jump to the center of the board. She stands slowly, "like that." 

She laughs softly as she meets you face on again, your eyes wide. "You do that in the water?" 

"It's not that* bad it's just... it takes a minute to get used to," she shrugs. "Wanna try?" She steps off the board into the sand behind her. 

"I don't really know anymore..." but you step over the board anyway, slowly lowering yourself onto it. You repeat her motions, just a little slower and shakier, as she watches from the side. 

"Oh see!" She says as you hop to your feet on the board. "You're basically a natural." 

You try to hide your laugh but it comes out as a snort anyway as you narrow your eyes at her. 

"Am not. I told you, it's like snow on the beach." 

She shakes her head, grin still plastered on her face, "but believe it or not... it really does snow on the beach in some places."

You snicker, "maybe I should learn there." 

She laughs, "just try it again! You'll get better." 

So you repeat the process again: sitting on the board, laying down, then jumping up. And again. And again. And - guess what? - again. 

Once you're not shaky on the board Ellie smiles and picks it up, "ready to actually try?" 

"Waste of time if I don't try after all that," you snort.

"See? Now you get it." 

You laugh and walk towards the water beside Ellie, swinging your arms by your side. 

She wades through the water, looking back to see if you've run off yet or not every so often. Once she decides you're both in far enough she pulls the board across the surface of the water to you. 

She helps you swing a leg over and onto the board, the back of it dipping a little. She scoots you forward, hand on your lower back, before she hops on after you. 

"Comfy?" She asks, kicking her feet a little and sliding up so your back is pressed against her front. 

"Oh, yeah," you nod sarcastically, "could take a nap right here." 

She scoffs, "I hope you drown." 

"Is that any way to talk to a friend?" You ask incredulously, feigning offense and surprise. 

"I wouldn't play so innocent, babe." She says, and the sarcastic tone is there, though you still can't help but to inwardly squeal and kick your feet at the pet name. 

The banter broke with your pause and Ellie began to talk about how waves work and the different parts of them.

You, however, were mostly only paying attention to the way the veins and tendons in her hands, that rested on your knees, flexed as she spoke. Your eyes traced her hands, from white knuckles to the tips of her long fingers, it was like you couldn't tear your eyes away from them. 

"You good?" She asks, one of her hands tapping your upper arm. 

"Yeah! All good," you lie, cheeks flushing with heat. "Just... watching the water," you mumble. 

She doesn't seem to entirely buy it, but she shrugs it off anyway as a small wave begins to flow in your direction. 

"Let's just ride this one out so you can get a feel of it," she suggests, kicking her feet and twisting the board so you both are facing the shore. 

Your eyes scan the sand, searching for any forms of life. It's pretty dark now, you think, everyone's gone home for lunch. We're alone.

The wave softly brings the board forward all the way up to where you started. 

"Not too bad?" Ellie questions, and you can feel her warm gaze on the back of your head. "No snow on the beach yet?"

You shake your head, laughing, "not yet, but the night isn't over yet either." 

She laughs and little wisps of her hair tickle your temples as she leans just *that much* closer to push the surfboard back out into open water. 

•••

"How 'bout this one?" Ellie asks, eyes roaming past you to the horizon, the wave standing proud as it pummels towards you. 

In the hours that came after your first wave, you'd managed to flip your position so you were facing Ellie. You completely forgot about actually trying to surf, only riding out every small wave that came from nearby boats. 

"Oh, yeah. How are..." 

"I'll just hop off," she shrugs. 

You pause for a second too long because Ellie is sliding off the board and pulling your leg to get you to flip around on the board. 

"Remember; lay down then hop up, kay?" She presses her hand on your thigh, giving you a reassuring squeeze before backing away and treading the water a few feet away from you. 

You inhale shakily, wondering if it was too late to back out. 

The wave comes quickly, and you twist the board with it, quickly finding Ellie's eyes as you turn. 

"Now!" She cheers, motioning for you to stand. 

You put your hands flat on the board and nervously walk your feet to the center of the board. You stand shakily, legs half bent and arms held out to try and help your balance. 

"Wait- Ellie!" You shout, watching the water crash down around your board as the wave pushes you towards the shore. "How do I get off-"

You slip back, losing one of your feet as you try to balance yourself again on the board. Before you can process what's happening, the world is spinning from view and you are splashing through the water, thousands of little bubbles clouding your vision before you close your eyes. 

You surface quickly, coughing a little from the sudden water intake, but Ellie swims up beside you, pulling her surfboard to your chest so you can rest against it. 

"That was great!" She laughs, "I forgot to tell you that you'd fall but-"

"I hate you." You say sharply. 

"Fun though?" One of her brows raises in curiosity and you can't bite back the smile that's slowly forming.

"A little," you pinch your words and Ellie grins.

"Wanna go in? It's getting pretty dark. Sharks like to come out at-" 

You make a face, "get me out."

Ellie laughs and holds the board as you push it down and sit on it again. The newfound, strong, waves push you back to shore quickly and within minutes you're shaking out your sandy towel and wrapping it around yourself. You dry off and cover your swimsuit with a sheer coverup, sliding on some sandals and putting your book in your tote bag. 

"That was... surprisingly the best day I've had so far this summer," you say softly as Ellie walks you back to your car, the leash of her surfboard dragging on the ground between the two of you. 

She smiles and glances at you quickly before looking back down at the ground, "was it the surfing or..."

"Not entirely."

She bites the corner of her lip before looking back up at you, "wanna do something else, then? Together?" 

"Got anywhere in mind?" 

"Town's pretty full of tourists right now but... I know a few places-" 

You point out your car in the lot, leading her down one of the aisles. You reach the car quickly, opening the trunk to throw in your dirty towel before turning back to Ellie. You hold the strap of your tote bag with both hands, like a little kid, as you skim Ellie's figure once again. 

"That'd be great. You have your phone on you?" 

She mutters some random answer before patting her wet and empty pockets. 

"That's okay," you pull a pen out of your tote, "I don't have any paper though-" 

"That's fine- um, here," she holds her hand out towards you and you wrap your hand around her wrist, beginning to write out your phone number on her forearm.  

"Let me know?" 

Her cheeks are pink as she nods, eyes reflecting the soft moonlight as she stares at you with the biggest star-eyes you'd probably ever seen. On the water, Ellie was some macho man, confident in herself and all that she put into the world; but off the water, Ellie looked like a scared little girl who had no idea what was going on ever.

"Thank you," you start, "for the lesson and lunch."

She smiles, breaking eye contact and looking at your feet before looking back up and beginning, "anytime. Seriously, if you ever want to go out again you can text me. I don't mind taking you out, I'll just have to bring another surfboard." 

You laugh before opening your arms and pulling Ellie into a hug. As you pull back you kiss her cheek, squeezing her shoulders.

"Oh, of course, I'm never taking anyone else to the beach again." 

She nods and laughs, almost choking on air as you pull away and towards your car. You get in and wait for Ellie to walk to her car before pulling off and driving into the road, heart pounding. 

You turn the radio up, hoping to distract you from your myriad of thoughts for just a moment. The song is halfway through, but you recognize the song almost immediately. 

I can't speak afraid to jinx it

I don't even dare to wish it

But your eyes are flying saucers from another planet

Now I'm all for you like Janet

Can this be a real thing, can it?

Are we falling like snow at the beach? 

Weird but fuckin' beautiful

Flying in a dream, stars by the pocketful 

You wanting me tonight, feels impossible 

But it's comin' down, no sound, it's all around

Like snow on the beach

a/n 2: if ur reading this i hope u enjoyed 🫶🏻🫶🏻 lmk if there's any typos. inbox is always open. love u all😚😚

#ellie williams x reader #the last of us #tlou #tlou x reader #ellie williams #ellie the last of us

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

More sillies because Adamsapple is <333

16. “…I didn’t drunk call you. It wasn’t a drunk call. I called you, perfectly sober.” 32. “You make me want to be a better version of myself.” 50. “I kinda wanna give myself a concussion so I can forget about you and not think about you twenty-four-seven.”

Thoughts/ideas: Adam and Angel are hanging out, maybe even playing truth or dare? Angel convinces Adam to call Lucifer and tell him how he feels. Adam agrees, but gets way more sappy than he ever intended, rambling about his favourite things about Luci (32 & 50). Adam gets embarrassed when he realises how long he's been talking and Lucifer hasn't responded to anything he said, so he hangs up. Since it was late and Luci knew he was hanging out with Angel, he assumed it was a drunk call (but he absolutely loved listening to it, it plays on repeat in his brain and is basically all he can think about, so he's disappointed that it probably isn't real). He brings up the call at some point during a conversation with Adam, and Adam admits that he wasn't drunk. Happy ending!!! Maybe they kiss??

Thriving off the casual holydust friendship so much, ever fic with them being sillies together is so good. They kind of match each other's energy, and are absolutely each other's wingman.

Indigo (*egg boy voice* hope you like it, boss!)

(*Sir Pentious voice* Fire the ship ray!)

Thank you you!! 😊

I had this half written and tumblr deleted it 😭😭 Sorry if it's not as good.

Adam clinked his shot glass with Angels, they downed their tequila. He grimaced at the taste. "Ahh, that shit fucking burns all the way down."

"That's liquor baby. Another round my good man." Angel called over the bartender who refilled their glasses. "Wanna play a game to pass the time? Truth or Dare?"

Adam made a face. "Seriously?"

"Yeah! It can be a fun way to get to know each other better. I'll even let you go first." Angel knocked back another shot.

Eh, why the hell not? This place was more of a bar than a club so dancing was out of the question. "Alright, truth or dare?"

"Truth."

Adam smirked. "Is your chest fluff real or is it just stuffing?"

Angel gasped dramatically in mock offense. "How dare you, this is all me baby. Ou natural." He adjusted it to make his point. "Truth or Dare?"

"Truth."

Angel smirked. "Are you in love with Lucifer?"

Adam choked on his drink, coughing as he looked at Angel. "What the fuck!?"

"Answer the question."

Adam felt his face grow warm. "Dare."

"You can't just change your answer like that! Haven't you ever played this with friends before?"

Adam frowned. "No." His only friends before Angel had been Lucifer back in Eden and Lute in heaven. You do the math.

Angel sighed. "Fine, I dare you to call him up, right now and tell him how you really feel."

Adams eyes went wide. "Jesus Angel!"

"Pick one."

Adam mulled it over. If he called Lucifer he would likely think he was just drunk. "If I'm going to do that, I'm gonna need another drink."

Angel smirked and called the bartender back over.

Lucifer was laying in bed, half asleep when his phone rang. He grumbled, who the fuck would be calling him at two in the morning!?

The caller ID read: ADAM <3 With a picture of the sinner, one where he had a genuine smile on his face and not flipping the bird.

Was he okay? Did he need help? Lucifer answered the phone. "Adam, you okay?"

"H-hey Luci, I'm fine. But not as fine as you are." Adam wanted to throw himself off a bridge. "Do you have any idea how h-handsome you are?"

What the fuck? "Are you drunk?"

Adam didn't answer the question, afraid he'd lose his nerve. "You make me want to be a better version of myself. Your kindness is infectious like your smile." Adam was sure his face was bright red. He was so in love with the short King it wasn't funny. "Hell, you're stuck in my head all the time. I kinda want to give myself a concussion so I can forget about you and not think about you 24/7. You plague my every waking thought."

Lucifer couldn't keep the smile off his face at Adams words. His heart thrumming with happiness. "Oh yeah? What do you like best about me?" He wanted to see where this would go.

Adam's heart was beating hard in his chest. "There's nothing I don't like about you, Luci. Your blonde hair, your mesmerizing eyes, your laugh, even all those ducks you make are endearing." Adam slapped Angel who was trying not to laugh.

Lucifer was quiet for a while just listening. Feeling bold he answered. "You have quite the captivating gaze yourself there, your eyes shine like gold." Adam had beautiful golden eyes, Lucifer hoped that Adam was drunk enough he wouldn't remember this.

Adam was sure he was going to burst into flames. "Oh, well, these eyes of gold only look at you, your majesty." Adam cringed, he never called Lucifer that.

Lucifer felt warm himself, he shifted in bed trying to ignore the stiffy he was getting. "Good to know. The feeling is mutual."

Adam's eyes went wide, his heart leaped.

He should stop before he makes a complete ass of himself. "Angel wants to do more shots, I'll see you tomorrow right?"

Oh Luci <3

"I wish we could have been together since the beginning." Adam was shocked at his own honesty. Fuck, that was way too far, Lucifer's silence told him that he had crossed a line.

Too real.

"Yeah, get home safe and have fun."

"Will do, Luci." Adam hung up, he hid his face in his hands. How fucking humiliating. He looked at Angel. "Are you fucking happy now?"

"Yeah, I didn't think you'd really do it. Proud of you buddy. Wanna keep playing?"

"I want to get drunk."

Lucifer stared at the phone, a bitter feeling in him. He knew Adam and Angel were out getting wasted. That was nothing more than a drink dial.

But oh, that didn't mean he didn't enjoy every moment. Adam singing his praises did things to him, drunk or not. The conversation replayed in his mind. He opened his phone to that beautiful picture of Adam, his other hand found it's way to the inside of his pajama pants.

He could pretend just for a night.

Adam groaned as he came down to breakfast the next morning. He had a wicked hangover, too much tequila in one night. Lucky he didn't puke.

When he walked into the kitchen he froze when he saw Lucifer making pancakes. Play it cool Adam, play it cool. He told himself. With a deep breath, he entered all the way and grabbed orange juice from the fridge. "Morning." He greeted, not looking at the king.

"Good morning, Adam. Pancake?"

"Sure." Adam sat down with his juice as he waited for his breakfast. This felt awkward.

When Lucifer handed him his plate, he dug in. They were both soft and crispy. "So, uh, how was your time out last night?"

"Good. Until Angel started a fight at the pool table." God they got so drunk last night.

"He okay?"

"Oh yeah, that prick fucked around and found out." Adam laughed at the memory. Stupid asshole, should have kept his hands to himself.

Lucifer was gonna risk it. "Do you remember calling me last night?"

Adam froze, okay bringing this up already. "Yeah...." No point in denying it.

"Okay, cause I think you drunk dialed me."

Adam blinked. This could be an easy way out. Pretend he only remembers calling Lucifer but not what he said. But.... "....I didn't drunk call you. I called you perfectly sober." He admitted, face flaring before he added. "I had only had three shots by then, I wasn't drunk."

"You weren't?" Hope filled Lucifer's insides.

Adam looked away. "No."

"Why'd you call saying all those things? Did you mean them?"

Damn you Angel. "Angel and I were playing truth or dare..... He dared me to call you about how I feel." Adam wished the ground would swallow him whole. He braces himself for the rejection that was sure to come.

Adam felt a hand on his chin turn his face to the side. "Wha-" He was silenced by soft lips on his, his golden wide as he saw Lucifer's half lidded and soft. Adam let his eyes slip shut and returned the kiss, his heart fluttered.

"You have no idea how long I've waited to do that." Lucifer said with a smile. "Maybe, we can go to dinner tonight and you can tell more about what you like about me?~" He flirted, enjoying Adams flustered face.

"Oh very fun-, Luci your pancakes!"

"Shit!"

#adamsapple #lucifer x adam #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel lucifer #ask

[lewisyellowhelmet]

put your hands on me (lewis hamilton x reader)

a/n: i had to. i’m sorry. it’s midnight. 

summary: that outfit. the necklaces. my hands ran away. 18+!!

You’re running late getting ready. Lewis had encouraged you way too much on that sweet cocktail at the sponsorship party last night, and so you have to have a long, hot shower to become functioning again. It doesn’t help that the hotel has glorious water pressure, and pretty little lotions. So by the time you’re out of the bathroom, ready to face the world again, hangover suppressed with paracetamol and Miami sun, Lewis is already dressed and waiting for you at the door of the hotel room, swiping through something on his phone.

“Oh my god.”

He looks up, forehead creased, concerned. Your eyes catch on his hands, laden with rings and bracelets as he slips his phone into the pocket of his pants.

“What’s up, babe?”

“You look. You. I really like that outfit,” your tongue suddenly feels too big for your mouth, unable to form a word. Behind you, the wind breezes through from the open balcony, smelling like the beach and sunshine, wafting through towards him, shaded in the hallway. It's like everything is surging to Lewis, even the wind wanting to touch him. You feel like you’re sixteen again, struck by a boy’s cologne in the school hallway, seeing the line of stomach when they reached up for something. Only now you’re an adult, and you’re grown, and Lewis is just standing in the entrance of the suite, smiling at you, pleased by the compliment. He shouldn't make you feel like this. Just a look from him, just an outfit, just a flash of skin you wouldn't normally see outside of bed. Your skin feels warm, overheated. You blink in the sunlight.

“Are you wearing three watches?” You realise, and, at least your brain still has the capacity for basic math.

“Yeah,” Lewis snickers, shaking his wrist at you, “Fuck them.”

“Oh,” you say, and just look at him for a long, stretched out moment. The cut of the shirt leaves a stretch of his chest exposed, the north point of his compass, the muscle of him. Usually only you get to see this part of him, the vulnerability of his sternum, bone over heart. There's something that twists in your gut at seeing him covered up everywhere but the line of his chest, the tattoos he's chosen to cover his heart. He’s laden in jewellery, as well, delicate pearls layered on thick chains, rings on each finger. The blue of the fabric makes his skin gleam, the dark of his hair, the brown of his eyes, pink of his mouth, white of his teeth.

“Are you ready? We gotta go,” Lewis reminds you, angling his head to the door. It takes everything in you not to trip on the carpet as you collect your things, rhythmically reminding yourself to breathe, that oxygen is more important than pulling at him, needy, convincing him to take you to bed.

You make it to the motor home, in the end, which you think is a pretty valiant effort. Followed him quietly all the way through the paddock, chewing, distracted, on a piece of gum, didn't let yourself look to closely at him. But Ang is just barely out the door before you’re pushing him down onto the couch, pleased with yourself that he goes so pliantly under your hands, sinking down with a surprised sound, letting you get down on your knees between his legs.

 “Sorry, I just have to,” you try to explain, but it’s a lost cause. Words lose purpose. Nothing means anything anymore, but getting his warm skin on yours. Hands under his shirt, the cut out so low that you can see the tips of your own fingers on his belly through the gap. It makes your head spin.

 “Just have to what?” Lewis is teasing, smirking, already settled back on the couch, wide legs, wide shoulders. He’s probably surprised you’ve made it this long.

“Just have too,” your palm on him through his pants, pressure, your other hand pushing up his shirt so you can press your mouth to his hip, scrape of teeth, lave of tongue.

 “What? Get my cock in your mouth?”

You’re lucky you’re hidden in the crease of his hip, bringing up a bruising mark, so he doesn’t hear the full extent of the way you groan into him, stomach turning over because of how the words sound in his mouth. Dirty, wanting, lovely. No one could speak to you like that. You wouldn’t let them. But he can. Lewis always can.

 You feel the brush of his hands on your neck, gathering your hair off your face, the cool metal of his rings, bracelets, soft jingling sounds, the music of him. He’s hard already when you get him into your mouth, wet and wanting, nudging the back of your throat. His thumb on the line of your throat, rubbing over your pulse point.

 “Such a good girl,” Lewis croons, and you make a sound around him, wanting, practically squirming at his feet. Your hand is moving around what can’t fit in your mouth, a steady, quick rhythm you know gets him there quickly. You must look wrecked, drooling, red mouthed, can’t take your eyes off where he’s sat lazy on the couch, his hand on your face, eyes dark and dilated where they watch you fuck your mouth onto him.

 “You look so fucking hot right now, you don’t even know,” Lewis tells you, a rasp, his jaw working. You can feel the strength in him under your hand on his belly, the quick movement of air as he fights to stay in control. Maybe, if you had more time, he’d pull you up, wrestle you onto your back on the couch so he could fuck you properly. He slides deeper down your throat, your body taking in more of him, just thinking about it. Lewis groans. Your hips circle on nothing.

 “Can I come,” he cuts himself off, eyes squeezed shut for a long moment as he takes the rhythm from you, guiding the pace with his hand in your hair.

 “Can I come in your mouth,” Lewis gets out, and you pull off just enough to say yes, your voice cracking on the syllable. He wipes your mouth for you, wet from him, lazy smile, heavy eyes. You spit on the head of him, just because you know he likes watching it, the saliva dripping down the length of him to pool around your fingers at the base, before you take him back into your mouth.

 “Ah, fuck. Fuck,” Lewis says, his voice all thick and tight when he’s close, and you make a sound around him, so he comes with your hand on him, your mouth, the vibrations of your voice, your free hand curled tight into his pants, creasing the cloth.

You’re gentle about tucking him back into his pants, a kiss through the fabric once he’s away. Lewis laughs at you, warm and fond. His big hands tuck your hair behind your ears, cool on your flushed cheeks.

 “Come up here,” he says, patting his lap, “Let me return the favour.”

 “Oh, how kind of you,” you tease, grinning at him, crawling up to settle in the wide spread of his legs. Lewis settles you on his thigh, his big hands under your dress to span over your hips, roll you down onto the muscle of him. Your eyes flutter closed, head lolling onto his shoulder before he pulls you up to kiss you, wet and wanting, still breathing hard.

You're just getting into a good rhythm, riding his thigh, stomach shivering from the pressure of it, from the way he's whispering into your ear in a raspy tone, telling you to go faster, harder, when someone knocks their entrance on the door. Ang barely gives you enough time to jump from his lap before she bursts inside, laden with backpacks and Lewis' Mercedes shirt.

 “Fuck, is it that time already?” Lewis is saying, levering himself off the couch to take the shirt from Ang, who is being very kind about not looking at you as you try and tame your hair, fumble for gum in your bag. You catch her smirking, can't help but match her cheeky smile. She's caught you in worse positions before. Once, Lewis had only stopped to pull the sheet over where he had you pinned onto the bed, still moving inside you, some sort of dignity, before Ang had cackled her way back out of the tiny motorhome bedroom. You can still taste Lewis on your tongue as you watch him change shirts, the muscles in his back moving. He pauses to kiss you, lingering, before he follows Ang out the door.

 “Be right back after the press conference, babe, don’t start without me.”

#lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton fanfic #f1 smut #*

[sugawarassoulmate]

PLEASE continue the akiteru x bad boy i wanna see the after math the DRAMA omg i NEED more!!!!

ahhh ok so part two to this one i guess lol

words: 391 cw: fem!reader, multiple orgasms, voyeurism (kinda), minors dni

i kinda like the idea of reader not being aware that kei basically heard you getting slutted out by his brother sksks. but obviously akiteru knows that kei knows, it's an open secret between them now.

because of this, akiteru definitely has more fun with you. if his brother won't confront him about it, he'll just continue to dangle you in his face.

like right now, akiteru has you over and spent hours teasing you and making you cum several times until your brain has turned to mush. you didn't even notice his phone ringing.

poor kei is calling to ask his brother a question but doesn't expect to hear your voice asking for "more, teru, more! i've been so good..." his cruel, cruel brother left the phone on speaker, allowing kei to hear everything akiteru was doing.

he could hang up whenever he wanted, but if akiteru knows his brother, he won't do it. not when you're making the kinds of sounds kei wishes were for him.

"honey, you can be loud with me," akiteru cooed. "we're the only ones here, wanna hear that pretty voice of yours."

he slammed his hips back into yours again, cock kissing your cervix for the umpteenth time. he expected you to beg him to stop from how sensitive you were but you wanted the opposite. pretty, manicured nails stinging his skin as you try to bring him closer to you.

"y'gonna make me cum again, teru? gonna make a mess on your cock," you slur, drooling as you pulled him in for another kiss. he'd make you cum again, he'd do it as many times as you wanted. you were his insatiable girl after all.

his cock stretches your messy cunt again, fingers rubbing circles on your puffy, abused clit. "teru, teru! feels so good..." your cries trail off when you cum again, eyes rolling in the back of your head.

akiteru curses at the sensation of your walls tightening around him, leaving white rings around his cock. brown eyes flicked over at his phone, the screen letting him know that the call was still going.

"you have 'nother one in you, sweetie?" he runs his fingers along your skin, a smug grin on his face at the fact that he still has an audience. "i'll give you as many as you want."

©sugawarassoulmate 2022 all rights reserved - please do not repost/translate my work on other platforms!

#haikyuu smut #haikyu smut #tsukishima akiteru x reader #akiteru x reader #akiteru tsukishima #tsukishima akiteru #akiteru #tsukishima akiteru smut #akiteru smut #akiteru tsukishima smut #haikyu x reader #haikyuu x reader #🍑 #🍑akiteru

[v-anrouge]

I have come to draw parallels between Vil and Riddle! Cause I try to keep my main blog as mainly reblogs

Riddle and Vil both grew up in strict homes, while Riddle’s was more abusive in the strictness, we can’t forget how many celebrities children are forced by the public to jump through hoops just for who their parents are. Neither had many friends (someone pointed out Vil told the story of Jack taking him to see the northern lights, so Jack is a sort of friend at the very least!) but neither seemed to get close to others very easily. They mostly talked about their parents when they discuss their childhood, meaning both were very isolated, for different reasons yes, but still isolated.

They are both viewed as pillars by so many, they force themselves, they have both been forced to grow up so fast, to become leaders of their peers because what else are they supposed to do? Riddle’s parents are both well known doctors, while Vil’s father is a well known actor.

Neither can show much weakness, as they are pillars, but they also just don’t allow themselves to. Mainly because of judgment, from paparazzi and parents (though I think Vil’s father did his best, being a celebrity means very little time to one’s self, much less time for their family) the only weakness we truly saw in them was during and after their overblots.

Neither are selfish though! Strict, and sometimes ruthless but never selfish! Both are known to coach and teach their dorm members, Riddle keeps tabs on ALL of their grades! And Heartslaybul is said to be the largest dorm! Vil makes personalized skin care routines and diets for all of his dorm members! They both push their dorm members to be the best they can be, and while they may be a bit over the top in some cases, they truly care.

Both put MAJOR emphasis on outward appearances, most likely because of having been judged their entire lives, one stray hair can cause the house of cards to cascade down upon them. They want everyone to feel proud of how they look, Riddle putting emphasis to show pride in one’s dorm through the uniform, and Vil to show pride in oneself through EVERYTHING!

Both had basically single parent households. Nothing against single parents! Vil’s father I KNOW pushed himself so hard to provide for his son, working long hours, and helping Vil learn of proper healthcare at a young age! Riddle’s family dynamic is a bit more complicated as his mother kept him isolated from his own father is seems, though she was also trying to provide what she thought was best. (Honestly, I blame Riddle’s father for most of his issues because he never stepped up against his wife for the treatment of their son. Like, take your family to therapy dude! Can’t you see what is happening!?!)

Both are also SO proud! Head held high, just having that aura of authority. They know they are good at what they do, but going back to the weakness point, neither are comfortable with what they ARENT good at. Most people can say they suck at certain things; math, art, ect, while Riddle and Vil can’t bring themselves to admit that, if they suck at something they push themselves until they’ve mastered it (much like Azul)

I could keep going if I tried, but my cat is demanding play time…

GOD I LOVE YOU SO MUCH YOUR BRAIN IS JUST SK FUCKIMG BIG I WANT TO MAKE PIT WITH IT

#submission #twisted wonderland #vil schoenheit #riddle rosehearts

[minhosimthings]

Hold me Without Hurting me

Chapter 9: Nettleseed and Next steps

A/N: In which an old friend fills your life with flowers again, along a bumpy sided road.

Pairings: Ceo!Jay × Ceo!fem!reader, includes rest of Enhypen and certain other groups

Warnings: angst-fluff, hurt/comfort, friends to enemies to fake dating to enemies to lovers, Mentions of food and alcohol, swearing, jay comfort, nothing much but it's a bumpy story.

Story prompt: If I had a flower for every time I fell in love with you, I would walk in my garden forever. (This story is based on the language of flowers.)

A/N: it's really short cause my brain couldn't write anything more but I promise the next one will be longer. And more fluffier hehehe

SERIES MASTERLIST

From Saturn to Mars. A long distance it seems. According to the math, it is made up of some complicated numbers. But when you look at it, when you hear it coming out of Jay's mouth, like a prayer, a carefully memorized poem, it seemed too close to be true.

It wouldn't be a lie if you said that you missed the times you had with Jay, two lost teenagers in the middle of summer, sipping away on cherry cokes and devising plans of the future. Now the future seemed too close, too quick. Too fast coming. It seemed that all those years you've spent yearning for this time, had faded away in the blink of an eye. And it all felt useless, as you saw Jay sleeping on the couch, arms folded and face tranquil as dew.

You quietly slipped out of his room, making sure to take all your belongings and leaving a note for Jay. He usually didn't sleep in, but it seemed that last night's shenanigans had worn him out. Your feet ached as you dragged yourself back to your room, trying to not to fall down in ghe elevator ride.

"Woah Y/N hey." The elevator doors opened on your floor to reveal Sunghoon, dressed elegantly in a purple suit. "Oh hey Hoonie." You smiled at him, taking the grateful hand he had offered and stepping out the elevator. Sunghoon gently guided you back to the door of your room.

"Oh I saw your assistant in the morning." Sunghoon sat down on the couch, as you plopped onto the one opposite him, "He was with Jay's assistant." You held your head in your hands and leaned back, basically sleeping on the couch. "They must have had fun last night, what with me spending the night in that asshole's room." You grumbled, as Sunghoon looked at you with pity.

"Sunoo told me about your agreement." He chuckled, "Somehow he managed to find out that you two aren't actually dating." Your eyes widened at Sunghoon's words. "Park Sunghoon if you even dare tell anyone-" "Oh shush you know I won't tell anyone." Sunghoon cut your words off, pouring himself a glass of water. You rolled your eyes and gently massaged your feet, wincing at the sunlight coming in from the open curtains. Dusty curtains, more like.

"You know in my amazing opinion-" Sunghoon suddenly started, "I think Jay actually likes you."

Sunghoon was thankful that you didn't have a knife in your premises, as you threw a pillow at him with surprising accuracy. "It's just an opinion!" Sunghoon defended himself as you prepared to throw another pillow. "A dumb opinion!" You threw the pillow anyway, this time time missing Sunghoon's head by an inch.

"Give me the evidence for your so called amazing opinion and I'll consider it." You crossed your arms and frowned, tapping your foot on the ground. Sunghoon stuck his tongue out at you and leaned back, crossing his arms in a similar manner.

"Girl come on." He raised a brow at you, "You really think a man who is just dating you for business purposes would defend you like that? Like he did last night? Most people would have just left it for you to solve out the pickle on your own." Your eyes softened at Sunghoon's words as you considered it for a moment. True, he had defended you in a way which most people wouldn't. It reminded you of the way he fought for you in ninth grade. The memory still brings a smile to your face, as you think back to the moment your bully's face was stuffed with mud, and how you and Jay ran all the way home, only to be caught by his mother.

"Still Hoonie. How do I assume he likes me just from that?" You drawled, feeling your stomach slightly grumble. It was already 9 in the morning and your breakfast usually came at 7. Sunghoon smiled at you and pulled out his phone, frantically scrolling through whatever content was open on his phone. "What in the hell are you doing Park Sunghoon." You groaned, lifting yourself up forcefully and dragging your body over to his seat to take a peak at his phone.

"I was going to come over to your seat but alright. Suit yourself then." He grumbled as you nudged closer to him, basically shoving him off of the couch. "Here." Sunghoon shoved the phone into your hands. The screen displayed a text conversation, which you peered to read because of Sunghoon's dangerously low screen light.

"Wait a minute-" you furrowed your brows in concentration as you read the contact name, "Jay Park? As in our Jay Park?" Sunghoon chuckled.

"You really didn't notice? Similar last names, pretty faces. He's my cousin." You widened your eyes as your jaw dropped in awe. You must have stared at Sunghoon for a long time before he snapped his fingers in front of you and directed your eyes back to the conversation.

"This is why I really believe he does like you." Sunghoon stated as your eyes fell upon the messages. Flowers, museums, perfumes, all conversations about your favourite things of which Jay was basically interrogating Sunghoon about.

"You should probably take a look at this one." Sunghoon scrolled down to the last message.

Jay - I think I'll tell her about how I truly feel today.

Your heart almost stopped as you read the message. 'Truly feel'? That sounded straight out of a cheesy 20's rom com.

"Well you should probably get going Y/Nnie." Sunghoon clapped his hands together, "He's planning to take you to the flower shops today."

The sunlight hit your face painfully through the open windows as you changed into new clothes. The idea of opening the curtains to quote unquote 'let some sunlight in', was definetly a bad one.

Jungwon had returned to your room in the morning, with his cheeks the colour of wine and his smile as bright as morning glory. His dimples were on wide display as he bowed to you and basically jumped onto a trampoline when you had asked him what had happened with Kayla.

His words of 'she asked for my number' and 'I am so in love with her Ma'am.' went over your head as your thoughts swivelled around what you saw in Sunghoon's messages. Getting the fact into your mind that your college best friend and the man who broke you into a million shards was a hard one. Getting the fact that Jay said 'about how he truly feels' to Sunghoon? Possibly the hardest thing you've ever had to stuff into your mind.

"Ma'am?" Jungwon peeked his head through the door as you ran through the last steps of your makeup, "Mr Park is here." With a pop of your lips, you got up from your seat and swung your bag around your shoulder, walking out the door to meet Jungwon. "Please tell me we don't have a meeting today." You sighed, taking the file he had handed you. Jungwon meekly shook his head as a blush crept up to his cheeks.

"What is it Jungwon? Your ears are bright red." You laughed, pointing at his tomato ears as you put your heels on. "Well I was wondering-" Jungwon began with his speech, "If you could allow me to stay out a little longer with Kayla today Ma'am? I-I really wanna make a good impression for her." You smiled gently at Jungwon's request and nodded your head, clapping your hand to his back in celebration. "Finally going to impress your mother with a girl eh?" You joked to which Jungwon's ears seemed to become less red.

You were dressed casually today, white sundress, draped with a beautiful golden chain with dangled from the crevices of your neck, drawing attention to your hair as well. Less sexier than what you had worn yesterday, you thought, but all for the best incase another 'emergency meeting' popped up.

"Y/N." Jay bowed as soon as you propped the door open. You nearly froze as you laid your eyes on him. Handsome seemed to have been a word unworthy of describing him at the moment as he fixed his watch slowly and adjusted his loose blue polo shirt. The marble white trousers he had on seemed to sharpen his curves even more, making him look like the Jay you yearned for years ago. It was a more casual look, one you'd wear for picking up a basket of bread, or accidentally stepping on the neighbour's cat's tail and apologizing to it frantically as your best friend looked on, laughing at you.

"Jay." You responded, realising that you had been staring at him for too long. If it hadn't been for Jay reaching behind his back, you wouldn't have seen Kayla quietly giggling and stealing glances at Jungwon behind you. You hid your smile in your heart, young love was always so sweet. Pity you never had it.

"Shall we go then?" Jay cleared his throat, as you reached your hand forward to enclose in his, making a clear motion for your little party to start moving downstairs.

An interesting day it would be, you thought, trying not to take in Jay's intoxicating perfume.

#jay park #parl jay #enhypen park jongseong #enhypen park jay imagines #enha #enhypen #jay fic #jay angst #jay fluff #park jay fluff #park jay angst #bye bye now

[storiesofsvu]

Happy Thursday hoes, let’s get to it!

Todays pros: citytv thinks im in TO so I’m getting it started at six!

Cons: no subtitles.

Alright, OG up first.

Love this new detective that’s a fanboy of everyone, makes me miss rollins lol

Pls let it be a female perp. We love a good female perp.

Okay seriously, this very subtle shaky cam is fucking terrible and hurts my head.

The GROAN I let out at the sight of Samantha in her well fitted pants suit sitting there like a fucking badass pissed off look on her face. Ma’am. Please. (yes, she is the only reason I watch this show)

Okay, the pedo may be the only eye witness, but they still have blood on the murderers pants, don’t they? Would that not tie it together enough? Or is it because the eye witness was the one who lead them to him? God I hate the legal system.

I REALLY wish this show would show more of the arguing between Nolan and Sam, like these two do NOT see eye to eye or have the same opinions on basically anything. And while I know major fighting would be called unprofessional, we at least used to see the lawyers get into it, or bantering. There’s so many times that you can tell just by the look of her face that Sam’s pissed, that she doesn’t think highly of him or his decisions on cases, like she hates him. I wanna see that play out on screen LOL

SVU time!

Let’s see if this week is any better than the last ones

Liv back in therapy, we love to see it.

A crumb of EO? Will that keep the crazies at bay? (like, I don’t even ship it but fuck am I sick of it now, the baiting is hella annoying and terrible, make it happen or not, don’t keep leading the actual ship fans on…)

Uhhh… is there not some kind of patient dr confidentiality? Like this bitch could have just lost her job (esp with someone like mcgrath involved… wtf..)

ITS THIS KIND OF SHIT THAT MAKES ME FERAL. In previous episodes they’ve had situations where shrinks couldn’t testify when they were the ONE witness, and like the entire case went into the trash because of it based off this exact type of situation… where TF is the continuity??

Okay… so she’s a minor so I can see the loophole here, BUT the therapist should have told her parents….

I knew it wasn’t the math tutor…

Ok… so mcgrath threatens to kill the math tutor, but when they’re picking up the son across the street he goes rage on benson?? And the iab captain? Shouldn’t you be attempting to punch the kid or something? God I really hope this ep is his last…

“can you drop that to me?” good thing Bruno’s there cause fin would have ZERO ideas on how to do that…

“until the age of 25 the male brain is about as useful as an electrified meatball” jfc… that wins for best line of the night.

Where the fuck is Velasco? Like.. man deserves his paycheques too..

Okay, mcgrath’s wife needs to shut the fuck up, liv’s trying to help her daughter and she accuses liv of gunning for mcgrath’s job.. jfc..

I was expecting mcgrath to throw hands not pull out his fucking GUN jfc… and like.. that was infront of two cars, that’s gonna be on a dash cam somewhere…

This is one of those one case turns into 4 but there’s only 5 mins left of the episode… cmon…

“I guess I didn’t see it in myself…” THANK YOU I was just gonna bring up the whole half assed back plot of mcgrath being abusive… (which is on par for cops, and ironic that the woman playing his wife was the wife of a cop who abused/raped her in 1.o)

This very much seems like a good bye. Pls let it be a good bye. Petition to bring back Garland!

Okay… im confused, I looked at my phone for 5 seconds and lost track of what was happening. Is the iab captain joining svu, cause that doesn’t work…theyre both captains. Or is she saying she’ll be filling in for mcgrath in the meantime??

Onto OC!

Okay, I am incredibly thankful for carisi on oc, but he’s the *sex crimes* ada.. not the only Manhattan ada, he wouldn’t be prosecuting this case… lol

Me: “wait I thought he was an officer.”

Reyes: “detective?” *side eye*

Me: ah yes, okay he was promoted the writers didn’t forget between weeks.

God this entitled pos teenager… wtf… its not *your* house bitch.

Ah, thank god, here’s the arguing that was missing in OG, not surprised its Elliot. Lol.

Oh god..the bratty teen overheard that didn’t she? Fuck..

God… this girl is gonna blow the entire thing, isn’t she? Like, in todays day and age with all the social media and how teenagers (and some adults) don’t know how to go without it, there’s no way they’d cut contact with everyone and delete socials and keep things quiet.

Aaaaaannd here we go. 5 seconds in and she’s blown their new location. (also WHY would the cops even tell them the location? That seems like something they wouldn’t do until they were halfway there…)

Okay… we’re missing a daughter.. I don’t know if this is supposed to be Maureen or elizabeth but I’m assuming liz as it looks like her kids are twins and she was the twin… Also where’s dickie? (I know the brother said something about someone not being able to get a flight? Im just deaf and without subtitles I couldn’t tell ya what exactly was said lol)

How old is this younger brother supposed to be? The only info online I can find is the actor is 50 which im not sure I believe.

Okay there’s dickie he’s in the background!

These guys KNEW they were in a high risk situation and none of them have a vest anywhere near them? ARE WE DUMB?! IS IT OUR FIRST DAY ON THE JOB?

Okay, there’s the other kid.

Maureen and Kathleen giving side eye while sipping their drinks while the tea is being spilt is the highlight of this moment.

This is SOOO awkward for everyone else at the table jfc… ESPECIALLY Eli’s poor girlfriend.. like. Welcome to the family drama, don’t worry we never have to come back…

Why the fuck did jet not grab the other gun?!

Me: unfazed at Elliot body slamming a teenager.

Bell: *casually* “I’m shot”

Me: ARE YOU FUCKING FOR REAL RIGHT NOW

THIS CANNOT BE HAPPENING IF WE FUCKING LOSE HER I WILL ACTUALLY RIOT.

(BUT ALSO MAY WE STEP BACK TO 8 LINES EARLIER WHERE I WAS YELLING ABOUT THEM NOT HAVING VESTS ON?!)

I knew this other captain was going to be coming more into play, but im pissed its cause bell’s out with a gunshot wound.

Christ.

Okay well, another week and OC is continuing it’s reign as superior of the three!

Some pics for context/hilarity

#law and order svu #svu #law and order #law and order special victims unit #law and order organized crime

[entomophagouserisian]

Incoming: some weeb shit I've folded one of my favorite math things into (permutations)

So I recently went back to Revolutionary Girl Utena because my girlfriend hadn't seen any of it yet and I hadn't seen much beyond season 1 (I know it's a foundational work of sword lesbianism and regret not having gone harder on it before).

I was kind of laughing with her about how edgy the translated lyrics of Zettai Unmei Mokushiroku (Absolute Destiny: Apocalypse, the song that plays during the scene where Utena climbs up to the arena every episode) and I noticed that there wasn't a translation for a chant at the end of it that hits my ear in a very pleasing way.

The chant in question:

Mokushi Kushimo

Shimoku Kumoshi

Moshiku Shikumo

The reason there is no translation is that it's mostly gibberish. They took the word "Mokushi" (Apocalypse) and rearranged the syllables in all possible ways to create this particular piece of poetry. The repetition of syllables in this way ends up feeling really good to my brain when I hear it and I have therefore been alternating between trying to memorize it and analyzing its structure for the past few days.

Unfortunately in order to present my process for this analysis I'm going to have to teach you some basics of the mathematical conception of permutations.

(The following aside into math is actually wholly unnecessary to my overall analysis, so feel free to skip to the clearly marked conclusion at the end if it feels like too much or you just don't feel like engaging with it)

A permutation is any reordering of a set of objects. Note that it's just reordering, it doesn't include deletions or the introduction of new elements or new copies of old elements. Commonly if we want to analyze permutations directly, and more specifically to talk about the permutation where the first object goes to 2nd position, second object to 3rd, third object to 1st, we use (123) (read as 1 goes to 2, 2 goes to 3, 3 goes to 1). As well, if the 3rd object stays put and the first two swap places, we would use (12) (read as 1 goes to 2, 2 goes to 1) to describe that. If no change is made, we usually just use (1) (read as one goes to one or the identity) to describe that. (This is very much lacking the rigor and generality that I would've preferred, but this post would've been substantially longer if I'd gone into that much detail, so I'm kind of hoping someone can come in with just this much explanation and understand what comes after)

So my first step in my analysis was to try to record how each of the "words" related to the base/actual word Mokushi (this is admittedly where it would be quite useful for me to change over to hiragana, but I don't know it and don't have a keyboard downloaded for it and don't feel like downloading one just for this post or copy/pasting the hiragana repeatedly, sorry to those of you who study/enjoy Japanese)

So, rewriting the chant as the permutations applied to Mo-Ku-Shi (written this way to emphasize the 3 objects being permuted):

(1) (132)

(123) (12)

(23) (13)

It was fun but didn't get me anywhere (other than verifying every possible ordering was present, but I was already pretty certain of that) so I instead chose to look at what permutation is happening at each step in the sequence rather than just how they compared to the original:

* (132)

(132) (13)

(132) (132)

Here, we see a much more obvious pattern. For all but one transformation, we are permuting by taking the first syllable and pushing to the end, moving the other two toward the beginning of the "word". To hear it, it is very easy to recognize the 2-syllable repeats happening throughout that first pulled my attention. However, this one permutation couldn't be done exclusively if they wanted to cover all possible permutations, as applying (132) 3 times brings you back to the original word, so the third Permutation is instead (13) which just reverses the syllables in this case since there's only 3 of them, but this also notably changes them to a "word" not yet seen which can bring us to the two we are still missing by applying (132) two more times.

It was after all of this that I properly noted that that middle step reversed the previous "word" and I mentally zoomed out to notice

~~~~Conclusion~~~~

the chant is set up to mirror itself. The pairs 1&6, 2&5, and 3&4 are all the reverse of one another, ordered such that for all but one pair heard in sequence, there is a 2-syllable repetition when moving from one word to the next. (Yes it took me this long to notice it was mirrored. No all that permutation work was definitely not necessary, but forgive a [likely autistic] math nerd for her indulgences.)

It's just a silly chant in a cartoon but it made me happy to see permutations in it and I am sincerely moved by the poetry of making gibberish out of a dark and serious word like apocalypse by listing off anagrams.

#Cyn posting #long posting #revolutionary girl utena #weeb shit #math nerdery #permutations #apocalypse #mokushi kushimo shimoku kumoshi moshiku shikumo #Zettai Unmei Mokushiroku #Absolute Destiny: Apocalypse #cyn being very normal about music language math and poetry #this is very hinged behavior

[w-stote]

Vacation au

|| Jujutsu kaisen post chapter 236 headcanons. It follows the fic I written for a friend and posted on ao3. Heavy spoilers guys, get out of this train of thoughts if you don't wanna get smashed.||

Gojo isn't dead and not cut in two

He is cut though, deeply in the abdomen

Basically, only his spine area is still connected to his lower body

Though, everyone thinks he is dead, because not moving, no healing visible and fogged eyes

So everyone goes to fight and they defeat Sukuna

Yuuji unlocks his own curse technique and thats how he is able to save megumi's body and megumi inside it too

then they kill kenjaku

at the same time, shoko was about to retrieve Gojo's body

she took a break next to it after healing people before kenjaku's fight

she was talking to it about vacations that should have been taken before all this happened

what happened to nanami's idea of going south?

but when she gets up to take the body back, it gasps

She goes to help Gojo heal himself

"You are right. We need vacations." is the first thing he says

Few weeks later and some experimentation later, they know that Gojo cannot fight anymore

The brain and spine damage he got during the fight was too much and while healing saved him, it also fucked his cursed energy

Also I am bringing back the Gojo losing his left eye theory back

His left eye is damaged also during the fight and now he is practically blind with it

and lets add that the six eyes where dmg in the same process. It works with his vision so if he cannot see properly because his eyes are not working, the effect is diminished

so the tinted glasses stays! but now they help him with seeing because cursed tools

Also his body is not.... well anymore

so yeah he cannot fight properly anymore

He stays a teacher but no more mission on the side

Higher ups "bans" him from being involved in politics anymore too

he is totally fine with it, as long as it means they leave him alone

Gojo is able to fully concentrate on his work as a teacher and he is loving it

He helps Yuuji with figuring out his new curse technique

having sukuna inside him unlocked the curse energy kenjaku "locked away" when making him

Also Gojo support Yuuji and Megumi while they help each other with getting their bodies back to themselves again

Nobara lives (for fuck's sake where is my girl)

She also lost an eye, completly on her part and now wear an eyepatch

Gojo and her complains about their looks being ruined because of the scars (even though they still look gorgeous hello?) and the struggle of visual impairment

The school got more teacher now too

those kids need to learn about math and japanese and Gojo cannot do all of that pls

also they got a whole team of counselor, social worker and nurses

Shokok doesnt have to work 24/7 and heal every little cut

also she got help for when major stuff happen

Those new folks aren't necessarily curse user, but most of them have a background in it

they also all knew about jujutsu world before the culling game

Jujutsu politics is still a nightmare and it takes more than a year to figure out things out

The higher ups after trying to fight to stay in charge are finally fired

Coming back on the first year trio, they do movie night every week or so with the second and third years now. also they sometimes get the students from the other school to join. or they do a shared watch with a video call at the same time

gojo and shoko do brunch every month to catch up and be sure to see each other outside of work

Gojo rides now a bike or takes the subway, no more fast forwarding his way through space and time anymore

it does him good

he goes bike with Ino sometimes

he got a fancy pricy bike but it is the best model bike industry got to offer, he also got a bike helmet that his so extra, like it got six eyes or something on it

or like gojo cats everywhere

I think thats all for now

#jjk headcanons #jjk 236 #jjk manga spoilers #gojo satoru #shoko ieiri #jjk trio #jjk spoilers #my writing #my hcs #jujutsu kaisen #i love them so much #Gojo lives

[sablegear0]

Hello there! Your jjk fix it au is a really interesting idea! Is it ok for you to tell how and why mahito became an assisted duo with shoko?

For sure! I haven't written or made any other notes on it so I'm just working from a loose idea. If someone wants to write or draw it out, go for it I suppose. (It got long, full text under the cut 😅. Tl;dr is Shibuya Incident goes not as bad as canon, Gojo snags Kenjaku and Mahito for some harebrained experiment to fix Geto and bring him back, Shoko is stuck working with Mahito because she's apparently the school's only medic. Things go better than expected.)

I'd have to re-watch the episodes to get the exact order of events but basically the AU begins around the start of the Shibuya Incident arc: the students and other sorcerers manage to catch up to Gojo and not-Geto in time to keep their teacher from being sealed. Instead, the school team is able to turn things around on the curse gang.

I imagined the turning point is that Yuji and possibly others manage to reach the station in the moments before the Prison Realm actually grabs Gojo, leaving it out in the open to be swiped and repurposed. Freed of his momentary distraction, Gojo does some quick mental math on the situation: his friend's body has been stolen - but his soul seems to be intact, the Prison Realm is within reach, as is the cursed spirit with a technique that can manipulate the body via its soul. He can work with this.

So whoever is there (probably Gojo, Yuji, and Todo?) take advantage of the stunning effect of Gojo's domain and the Prison Realm to get Kenny boxed up and grab Mahito while he's incapacitated (probably literally, since Gojo could probably safely 'touch' him with Infinity running), and drag the both of them back to the school for safekeeping.

Gojo's harebrained scheme is to surgically extract Kenjaku and use Mahito's ability to grow a working brain back into Geto's body. It's weird, but it's no worse than having to kill him all over again. Unfortunately to do this he needs to have Mahito's cooperation, which he initially does not. After some negotiation, Gojo enters into a pact with Mahito for his assistance; roughly a "Help us or we kill you" arrangement, since the school staff can guess that not-Geto was almost certainly planning to eat Mahito anyway.

Since Mahito's technique has extensive medical application, he ends up working alongside Shoko for the next little while. With supervision from Gojo at first, to ensure he behaves and to check up on Geto regularly. But the aftermath of the Shibuya Incident still needs attention so Gojo finds himself drawn away more often than not, leaving Shoko alone to deal with Mahito's shenanigans and care for a recovering Geto. Thankfully Shoko has enough experience dealing with annoying teenage boys (and Gojo) that she knows how to handle Mahito's childish temperament. She's the right mix of no-nonsense and easygoing to handle him and they eventually form a more cooperative working relationship. I imagine Mahito is one of those "problem children" that would thrive with clear instruction and strong boundaries. He'd be a good worker, he just needs someone to keep him in line.

If I do end up writing this in some capacity, my impulse right now is to make it 50% heavy SatoSugu angst, as Geto recovers in the care of his mortal enemies and the one person who never gave up on him; and 50% office comedy with Shoko and Mahito getting acclimated to one another and taking care of Geto and the rest of the cast as they heal up from the incident.

#sable answers #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk au #fix it au #gojo satoru #geto suguru #kenjaku #mahito #ieri shoko #given the nonsense she puts up with on a daily basis shoko is the token human actor in her muppet movie of a career #this idea is only reinforced when she meets mahito and realizes he operates on cartoon physics when he wants to #mahito is also basically an overpowered kid who nobody ever said 'no' to bc he hung around with the curse gang from the start #but she knows how to deal with kids like that from growing up and working with gojo so she's the ideal creature-keeper for him #gojo and geto can have their sadboy screen time too but there must be balance #and in this case the balance is mahito being a combination office pet and intern for the world's best healer #not sure how the students would react - i think his presence may have to be kept under wraps for a while #same with geto the admins would want to execute him again if they found out he came back to life with the power of love and anime nonsense

[sage-nebula]

Thinking about how much I suffered in school due to having an undiagnosed learning disability because by and large the world doesn't seem to know that there even is a learning disability when it comes to math . . . jfc

Like I got my first failing grade ever in fourth grade because I didn't understand long division and wasn't allowed to use a calculator to do it for me. It's not that I didn't want to understand, I tried my best, but my brain just can't hold or conceptualize numbers. My brain can't make the connection of what happens to the numbers to get the results. So I had to bring a report card home with an F in math when I was 9 and got torn apart by my biomom as a result of it.

In the grades following I managed to scrape by with Ds only because of participation points. I paid attention in class and I turned in assignments with a fuckton of wrong answers, but that was enough to give me a consolation D on my report card instead. Junior year I failed geometry because, again, my brain just can't hold or understand the numbers, plus I had depression and anxiety and a trauma disorder etc etc, all of which I had no treatment for. The result? Grounded for an entire summer while I went to summer school to make up the credit. I passed summer school only because we had tests at the end of the lesson, when I could still hold the information in my head.

During all of this, did ANYONE suggest I might have a learning disability? No. Because unlike dyslexia, dyscalculia and other learning disabilities related to math aren't well-known. Reading is seen as something that's so hard to grasp, but in math there's only one right answer so how could there be a disability for that? Long words are complicated, but who doesn't understand numbers? Worse still is the people who do struggle with math a little, but who can still manage and retain the information, because they're like, "oh yeah I also suck at math haha maybe I'm disabled too!" and it's like, no, unless you've been driven to tears because a customer gave you additional change after you already input their total into the cash register and now they and all the people in line behind them are expecting you to be able to count the change in the way that means you know what to give them back (since it's now different than what's on the register) but you literally cannot wrap your head around this no matter how many times they explain it to you, you're not disabled, you just don't like it.

In college I majored in creative writing and I was told that I had to take a math class for a gen ed. I was at first told basic math would count, so I took that. It was so difficult, and I got so stressed, that I gave myself stomach ulcers, but I managed to pass with a C-. I was then told, oh sorry! This is too low level of a course to count. So then I tried business math. Failed it. Formal logic. Failed it. College algebra. Failed it. In college algebra I would understand it okay in class, but then when I'd get home I wouldn't remember how to do it. 10 problems would take me 5 hours as I tried to re-teach myself the material from the textbook. But on the test we couldn't use the textbook, so guess what? I failed.

I had a complete emotional and mental breakdown because I wasn't going to be able to graduate without a fucking math course. And it was only after I was literally sobbing in the academic advising office that someone said, "if you can get diagnosed with a learning disability, we can waive the credit."

(Note: I didn't even want the credit waived per se, I just wanted my basic math class to count like I was told it would my freshman year.)

I was 26 years old and this was the FIRST TIME I had EVER heard that there was a learning disability for mathematics. THE FIRST TIME. I paid $600 to get evaluated and was told that while I was in the 99th percentile for language ability, the discrepancy between that and my mathematics ability was the largest the evaluator had ever seen in his 60 years of running these exams. Which, you know, makes sense. When I took the ACT I got a 32 in reading and writing each, but a 15 in math (and 19 in science because of all the math). It tanked my score. Suddenly it all made sense.

But it took TWENTY-SIX (26) YEARS for anyone to even SUGGEST this could be a possibility. And it's still not fully understood or taken seriously! Accommodations can be made in the workplace for dyslexic people, but when I told my boss just this past week that I have dyscalculia, he laughed because he thought the term was a joke, a riff on dyslexia, just for someone being bad at math. Now, my boss is kind of an asshole in general, but still. It's not a joke. I'm not just bad at math. I am INCAPABLE of doing math. My brain can't wrap around numerical concepts. And even in the off-chance that I understand what's going on in the lesson, I can't retain it. When I got evaluated there were problems in the evaluation that we had just discussed the PREVIOUS WEEK in college algebra. Less than seven days prior. I REMEMBERED that we went over it in the lesson. But did I remember how it all fit together? No. I couldn't wrap my head around it. I nearly started crying during the goddamn examination because of how humiliated I was.

I suffered so much into my late twenties because no one at any point in my educational career understood that mathematics disabilities are a thing. Math is thought to be "the universal language" so if you can't do it you're just lazy or not trying or, hey, it's hard, but you still CAN do it, you just need to try harder. It's so angering and so upsetting and drives me fucking bonkers. I've got my diagnosis now so I'm not suffering any longer but jfc. It was a fucking nightmare.

#although i don't really have the paperwork anymore #hopefully it's on file in my medical record or i could get it from my uni or smth #since they'd have it on file from when they waived my math credit

[yeetlegay]

The gremlin is back with new notes, I hope you don't mind. I'll put a read-more mark in case someone wants to skip them.

Santa Maria we're like 1 minute in and it's already going places

Pete didn't strike me as a tattoo person but it makes sense

I mean I know my man is getting slapped and all but that shirt is fire

"Who's a good boy?" sounded equally terrifying and awfully cute (9 minutes in and I'm already bananas)

TANKHUN YES HELLO OMG YOUR OUTFIT IS LIT LIKE ALWAYS

Tankhun has the best reactions, kicking Kinn with legs included

Porsche is the definition of "this all could've been done without a gun and yes, this all could've been an email"

JESUS that wrench is huge

what if the car accident was caused by Time? In one of the first episode Time mentioned Tay's dad covered up his car accident like nothing ever happened because it was his area. Just a thought.

omg Porchay and his Snoopy hoodie so cute I'll die

as someone who has terrible relationship with my siblings, I'd die for their bromance. Porsche and Porchay might get on some people's nerves in the fandom, but like... They literally only have each other. Of course they'd be super gentle and overprotective.

God that blow-dryer is loud

omg these two babies. Tay and Time are serving looks

OH MY GOD SHE IS SO PRETTY SHE IS INDEED SERVING LOOKS

Love how Tay is manspreading while Time is trying to occupy as little space as possible

Vegas is really reading Childhood's End, a story about literal aliens invading Earth while he has Pete locked up???

No, he isn't. Idk whether I should say God bless or not

I wish Vegas' father a happy burn in hell

Tankhun is such a fashion icon and no I will never stop saying it

I want Tankhun to be kindergarten teacher to my kids so he can teach them basic life rules such as be relaxed and kill everyone who is suspicious immediately and all that while looking so damn fabulous

Sir, uh, that is, um, really creative excuse to kiss someone...

Pete is so good at asking the right questions at the right time

"Have you ever loved me?" no, that's why he Superman-ed those kidnappers and proceeded to enter the warehouse guns blazing... (I getchu tho, Chay...)

Vegas, it's not as bad as before because prior to this you got free Pete therapy session

"If you hate me, you'll have energy to kill me later." or as I call it, positive thinking

Turbulence... noted.

Nope, I don't think my car accident theory was correct. Rest in peace theory, you did your best.

I started to respond to this bullet by bullet but half the bullets were just variations of “AKDHDJNSJSKAJSH SO TRUE” so here is a shortened version lol

THE WHO’S A GOOD BOY LINE REWROTE MY FUCKING DNA ISTG if I ever decide to proceed with my villain era I will be taking Vegas as my manipulate manslaughter malewhore inspo

“This could’ve been an email” LESTAT I WHEEZED

That wrench scared me more than the electric chair (taint edition) from ep 10, like for why is it so ENORMOUS

I live for sibling bonds too ugh. Oldest of 5 here so Porsche’s older sibling struggles resonate deeply. (Also that one post about how Kinn is a middle son but an eldest daughter…math was found dead from the accuracy)

The second I saw the Childhood’s End cover I had to pause and Google lol I’m obsessed with analyzing characters’ reading choices (the Kardashian Konfidential book led to a headcanon that Kinn started watching KUWTK with Tankhun just to feel something and now he’s lowkey a celebrity gossip encyclopedia)

Tankhun kindergarten teacher…WHO’S GONNA WRITE HIM STARTING A MAFIA DAYCARE FOR THE NEXT GENERATION OF THEERAPANYAKUL TOTS

No bc my first thought when Vegas did the pill kiss was “holy shit he’s ballin I could’ve been having my gf give me Tylenol kisses this whole time???” Like absolute legend behavior imo

Kinn walking like that had me thinking Something Else and I was like “surely…surely they wouldn’t have…..not-not on a-a helicopter” so glad we got confirmation of a sky bj to bring my brain back online (sort of)

#kinnporsche #yeetle asks #why don’t queue stay #lestat tag