#it's been a while since i've mentioned it anywhere but this is top media of all time for me

[immortalsins]

HELLO?

#are you JOKING #i come back to tumblr O NCE #to find out i missed this news ?? #this is nuts #it's been a while since i've mentioned it anywhere but this is top media of all time for me #my fighter origin story dhjcbvhsjgd #i was pretty involved in the whole savedaredevil situation #had the tshirt and everything #and it worked holy shit? #what a monumental win #been having a mediocre day today #actually not its not. smashed my maths test and obtained mini eggs #got a social thing tonight #but this made it so much better #ramblings #born again

[thewonandonly]

RETURN TO ME

PLAYLIST : spotify

PAIRING : thief!kang yeosang x news reporter!fem!reader

GENRE : thriller? fluff, smut, angst

WC : 14,374 words :3

WARNINGS : strong language, agro-hwa, aggression, graphic description of hostage situations/kidnapping, mention of bank heists/artifact theft, mention of firearms, absolute chaos from ateez as a heist group, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal penitration, vouyerism/exhabitionism, praise, pet names, cunnilingus, no happy ending, its giving mama im in love with a criminal tbh

AUTHOR'S NOTE : it's finally done! i've been writing this fic for OVER a year, ever since guerilla came out 😰 i hope you all enjoy and jsyk, this fic is heavily, heavily, inspired by "love letter from thief x".  

Becoming a news reporter wasn't your first option. You originally wanted to write news articles for your local paper, something close to home, but it turned out that your local paper hired another much more qualified person. So, you used your degree in journalism for field reporting. 

Your first story was about a cold case being reopened, and you would've loved to do your own research on the topic, however, the teleprompter read everything for you, telling you what to say, what to do and how to do what they tell you to do. You seriously did not have any freedom. You were about ready to go on sabbatical and open a gossip blog like Perez Hilton. Then, maybe you'll finally be able to get the freedom you'd like to report how you'd like. Or, maybe you'd even put the degree you got for investigative journalism, something you think would be extremely enjoyable to you and your wallet.

But, you didn't start hating your job at the beginning. No, because it was helpful to have a teleprompter in front of you, telling you what to say while the ring light blinded you. No, it wasn't because of that. It was because you were currently trapped in a hostage situation, the news broadcast now hijacked by the criminals in this entire scheme. 

It was a classic museum robbery, and you wouldn't say you were excited to cover it, but it was different from what stories you would normally cover. It had the potential danger in it all.

But the second your cameraman and producer cut the cameras to take a break, you were left alone to your own devices until you were going to be called in again by your co-workers in the studio. 

You pulled out your phone, scrolling through social media timelines, reading the other news sources that popped up about the situation. 

The microphone you held, that did little to nothing when you spoke into it on camera, was suddenly dropped as you were pulled from where you were standing, a hand over your mouth and another arm around your waist, lugging you away like a piece of cargo. 

How was no one noticing this, you questioned. The cameras were rolling for different news broadcasts, and yet no one gave any mind to the sound of your heels scraping against the gravel road, leaving white marks from the top piece on the bottom of your heel. 

You practically screamed from behind the hand against your mouth, but the sound of all the chaos from newscasters, sirens that echoed against the buildings silenced your screams.

All the self-defense you've learned for this moment, that you pleaded never happened, seemed to disappear from your head. And you were nearly incapacitated, anyhow. The last you saw of the outside was where your team sat, and the microphone discarded on the ground, your phone right next to it with a shattered screen.

The captor pulled you around the back of the building, another holding the door open for them.

They all wore masks, some you've seen at Halloween stores. Some of them you haven't seen available anywhere. You could only assume that this has been planned years before it happened. 

Shutting the door at the back of the building, the man released you before another took over and tied your arms behind your back, and sat you down to bind your legs.

"I'm sorry." The person tying you whispered, "For what it's worth."

"It isn't worth jack shit." You grumbled, moving around in the restraints, trying to get him to mess up even a little bit. 

The other cleared his throat, "Come in, Base, it's me." He mumbled through the mask. 

You immediately assumed that this was a much more complex plan, looking as he communicated to "Base".

"You read me?" He paused, "Newscaster is secured. Video's free to run."

"Y/N, uh... Come in." Your coworker spoke through the in-ear you had, and you nearly shook. There was no way you could respond unless you were left by yourself. "Y/N, come in." Their voice got a bit more stern, a bit more deeper.

There was a loud ringing playing over the in-ear and you jumped.

A voice full of static echoed, sounding distant but close at the same exact time, "This is an official notice. We, the group known by Kyomi, require the government release the Dream Texts to us, immediately." The video that played was a deep, almost god-like voice, similar to the voice configuration that Anonymous had used many, many times in the past, "The National Treasure Museum does not have rights to own the Dream Texts, nor does the government. They are to return them to their rightful owners. You have 24 hours."

Ringing played in your ear and you began to rub the in-ear across your shoulder trying to get it out from your ear, before it fell against the floor, the ringing echoing across the walls.

"Son of a..." The one tying you up glanced at the in-ear, looking at you before kicking it away, "What do you think you're doing?"

You struggled in the restrains, the rope digging into your skin.

"Wasp, we got a breach." He called to the other across from him, swinging the bolt rifle back to his hands, "She had an in-ear. They heard us."

The other turned to you, glaring at you through the mask, which made it 20 times more horrific, "Well, what are you waiting for? Break it." The one called Wasp spoke, squatting beside you, "Killer," He called over his own in-ear, "Shut it down." 

You glared back at him, not at all deferred from your fear coursing through your veins. 

There were so many other people that you weren't aware were in the next room, dealing with 4 others. Museum staff and guests visiting the 24/7 museum alike, all being threatened in front of the barrel of a gun. 

And as soon as "Wasp" called to shut it down, it was all over in a second. 

"Meet at the van. 10 minutes tops. Grab your shit, we're leaving." 

Your brain immediately connected the dots that maybe this "Wasp" was the leader of the others, and you didn't think even a little bit that you would be going along with them until the one who tied you up in the rope swooped you over his shoulder, your legs kicking at his back.

"What about the newscaster, Wasp?"

"Bring her along, Hornet. Base is gonna need all the info we can get." He nodded to the entryway, and opened the door to the reception desk. "Sharp, let's go. We're out of time."

"Sharp" immediately stood up from his crouching position with his gun still aimed at any who threatened through the glass windows, "You go ahead. Killer and Spiral are in the next room with the hostages."

"Copy." Hornet responded, carrying you through the door, "Killer, Spiral, get anything gathered about the Dream Texts and head out."

The two across the room gathered backpacks and threw them over their shoulders, their rifles resting in their hands.

The other hostages huddled together, shaking in fear. And in contrast, you rested on Hornet's shoulder, watching them from the corner of your eye. 

Wasp and Sharp entered through the door, a whistle escaping Wasp's lips, "Let's load up, Web is waiting for us." He lead the group to the van, "Hornet, drop the newscaster inside. You know the drill. Sharp, check for trackers. Spiral, swap out the plates." 

Hornet nodded his head to the door as Killer opened it, plopping you inside, "Alright, miss, no need to worry."

You trembled like a leaf. You never, ever thought this would happen to you. You, who took kickboxing as an extracurricular in high school and actually passed the class as top student. You, who checked every glass window you passed by in your hometown. You, who was so kind but also knew how to set your boundaries. This couldn't be happening to you. There was no way. The one second you were distracted by your cellphone and it wasn't while you were working; much rather it was while you were on break. 

The rope binding your arms behind your back was suddenly met with another rope through that one, and you had to convince yourself that this wasn't some messed up shibari sex cult. Inappropriate thoughts aside, Hornet tied a blindfold around your eyes, covering any light that might've flooded in from the dingy alleyway that the Kyomi group stood in, watching as Hornet finished restraining you and depriving you of your senses.

There was a faint beeping that echoed in and out your ear. "Can's clear, Wasp." Sharp called. 

"Good. Let's head out." He climbed into the van, hitting the door to the others, "Up and at 'em, boys."

"Jesus Christ, this mask is fucking annoying." A voice called and you heard the horrendous sound of latex rubbing against one another.

Another shouted, "Dude, you're all good to take the mask off!"

"I already did, asshole!"

You wiggled around, trying to grab even the slightest bit of attention, but they all seemed too busy talking to one another to notice you using your shoulder to move the bandana up just a little to see out of the bottom.

A voice sighed, "Come on, you two. Relax. We're not out of the woods just yet."

The other voice laughed, almost high pitched, "He's just so fucking ugly. I can't help it."

There was the brief sound of pushing and shoving, before a deep and stern, "Hey!" echoed through the car, "If Web gets into a crash and we get caught because of you two, it's over."

A tongue clicked, "Yeah, listen to Wasp. He can't afford to go back to jail, guys."

"You're one to talk, Yunho!"

"All of you just shut the fuck up." The voice boomed, and you almost flinched back into the car, feeling like you yourself was the one getting scolded, even though you were the most quiet out of the others, aside from Web.

You took this moment to actually lean your head back, and angle your eyes downward, catching the briefest glance among the group.

Three sat across from you, their masks still covering their face as they leaned against the empty van, guns resting at their side. The other two sat with their backs against the driver and passenger seats, next to the other group. Aside from the one directly in front of you, you were by yourself.

One of them cleared their throat, breaking the silence, "So, what's with the newscaster? Why'd we take her?"

"Information." That was the voice. The voice you could recognize as Wasp.

The other sighed, "Where are we gonna keep her?"

"Base can take care of her." It was short, simple, but definitely not sweet. He was the leader, he was the one that told the other's where to go.

The brief sounds of sirens were what pulled your attention from leaning your head back. And the sound only made you more agitated. I'm in here, you wanted to call. And how you pleaded you have superhuman strength to break out from your ties, break the door and crawl into the street.

The car ride was long. Extremely long and painful. You could feel your bottom going numb, and the rope digging into your arms. You were sure that you had a rope burn from it. The blindfold getting all the more irritating.  But, they didn't seem to notice that the bandana was even lifted a little bit, or how you would glance at them from underneath it. They were comfortable with each other, all joking around, almost as if they didn't hold an entire museum heist just a few hours ago. Their masks were off, the weapons and items they were able to grab from the museum in the middle of the van.

Wasp slumped forward, his arms folded across his stomach as he slept. 

And when the van stopped, you nearly shook. The rain pattered on the concrete.

"We're here." Web, the one driving called, putting the car in park.

The others sighed, standing up and stretching, climbing out the van, "Shit," one of them yawned. 

"Come on, Wasp. Let's get you inside." One of them shook him by his shoulders.

Wasp looked up and took a single glance outside and was already on his feet, "Alright, grab the things. Web has to get this back to the rental company. Base already changed the plates and VIN for it."

"Copy that." They all began to pick up an item; at least one gun as well, and opened the back door to the van. 

Wasp began to untie the rope through the one rubbing into your arms and lifted you over his shoulder. He kept a strong arm over your waist and walked around to the driver side. "Web, pass me the dash cam card." 

Web immediately reached toward the device and pulled out the card, "Got the replacement one?"

Wasp rummaged in his pocket, "Here. Base got still footage while we were setting up." Passing the card to Web, he nodded to him, "Get back safe."

"I always do." He shrugged before driving off.

Wasp sighed, looking up at the sky as the rain fell into his face, "God, I hate rain."

You wanted to make a stupid pun about wasps and their aggression, but your throat was so dry, you believed even speaking a little bit would cause your trachea to crack.

The mud gushed around his feet as he walked and opened the door to what you assumed was their base. 

"Welcome back, Seonghwa." A soft voice mumbled, "Who's this you have with you?"

"Newscaster." He dropped you down onto a couch and pulled the blindfold from your eyes.

It took a moment before your eyes could adjust to the dim lighting, and you felt 8 different pairs of eyes on you. The ones you saw in the museum had their masks either in their hand or on top of their heads. It was hard to believe that these people were so ready to show their faces to you.

And the two you haven't had the pleasure — you use that loosely — to meet yet, sat across from you, large computer monitors on top of two separate desks that looked just a little too large for the room, watching your every move.

Your breath began to quicken, your lungs beginning to constrict on every other breath. It didn't begin to hit you that you were obviously very much kidnapped, until you began to look around for any hint that maybe this was all big nightmare. 

Wasp, or now known as Seonghwa, bent at the waist and looked into your eyes, "Tell us what you know."

You've seen movies like this; the main character ends up kidnapped for knowing too much and when asked for the information they know, they always respond with the stupid words of "where am i?"

But honestly, you didn't really care where you were, you just wanted to get home. You wanted to lay in your bed and cuddle up in your covers. 

"Just about as much as everyone." You mumbled, shrinking under Seonghwa's stone cold glare, "I know that you want the Dream Texts, and I know that your groups name is Kyomi, and that there's 8 of you, only 6 of you going out on missions." You looked up at the man in front of you, shifting uncomfortably, "And I know that you don't kill."

The blonde male in the chair nodded, "She's good." He chuckled, pointing at you, "You actually know a lot more than others."

"I spend a lot of time reading about you guys." You mumbled. 

Seonghwa clicked his tongue, "All that information is on the internet?" He turned to the others, "Yeosang, do something about this."

The blonde male in the chair spun around and began to type quickly on the keyboard. 

You could only watch and listen, feeling uncomfortable as another member sat beside you and placed his arm around the top of the couch.

"Yeosang's our eyes." The other member whispered, "And the other one is Mingi, he does all background work for us."

Mingi waved sweetly, in contrast with the dim lighting of the room.

"Okay..." Yeosang mumbled, "Well, there are other news sources giving background to the group but it doesn't look like they know anything about us, personally." He rubbed his bottom lip, "There's not much to do aside from let the tabloids run their crazy little course and let them speculate."

Seonghwa clicked his tongue, "Son of a bitch," He pushed his hair back and sighed, "Yeosang, keep an eye on those articles and make sure that anything slightly close to our personal lives gets taken down."

"Aye, aye, sir." Yeosang nodded. 

You briefly made eye contact with Yeosang, before looking down at your lap, "Do you think I'll be able to go home soon?"

Seonghwa looked at you like you were crazy, "You think you'll be able to go home now? You've seen our faces, you know how we sound." 

The realization hit you all too late. There was no way you were going to be able to go home after everything you've been through. Like Seonghwa said, you've seen their faces. You've heard their voices. They had no collateral to the fact that you wouldn't say a word. And they definitely weren't going to risk some feisty newscaster giving away what they were doing anytime soon.

"You're right." You chuckled softly, "God, I'm such an idiot." You weren't generally speaking about your current situation, more rather this whole evening. You were distracted, you were caught unawares. And now, you were trapped in a situation that you didn't ask to be in. 

"Wooyoung, San, get her something more comfortable than those ropes." Yeosang called, and the member that sat next to you and the other across the room stood up and wandered off to the back of the shack... house, whatever it was.

Seonghwa looked around, "What are we gonna do with her?"

Yeosang shrugged, his demeanor almost changing in that instant, "I'm not the one who brought her here." 

You furrowed your brows, "You guys don't even know what to do with me and still brought me here?"

A brown haired member with a gentle smile and soft eyes chuckled, "Seonghwa didn't think it all the way through."

"Shut up, Yunho!" The latter scolded, "So, who's gonna give up their bed?"

"Definitely not me." A shorter male shook his head, "My back's still messed up from that heist in the city."

"That's always your excuse, Hongjoong." Yunho rolled his eyes, "I can't give up my bed because I made the perfect ass dent to fit me."

"That leaves Wooyoung, San, Jongho, Mingi,"

"Just let her sleep down here." Yeosang shrugged, "I'll be down here most of the time anyhow."

"Dude, you get zero sleep." Mingi chuckled, shutting off his computer, "Speaking of, I'm gonna head up now. Great job today, guys. G'night."

San and Wooyoung immediately came strolling down the stairs, a pair of silver cuffs in their hands, "Found something!"

"Give them here." Seonghwa called, holding his hand out, using his fingers to motion them towards him. And one of them placed the cuffs in his hand, "Keep her down."

The two hold your shoulders against the couch cushions as Seonghwa used a pocket knife he pulled from his pocket to cut through the rope, forcing your arms to the side and locked the cuff around your left wrist, and the other cuff around the arm of the couch. 

Sure, it felt better that you were out of that rope, but with the pinching cuff around your wrist, it made it almost worse.

You sighed, rolling your wrist around, as you finally had circulation returned to your wrist. 

Seonghwa sighed, "There." He grabbed the two spare keys and tossed them to the other at the end of the desk, "Keep an eye on her."

You could feel your hand go numb as the blood began to rush back to your fingers, "This is not ideal, but it's better than how it was." You mumbled to yourself, using your thumb to crack your stiff fingers.

Yeosang sighed, spinning around in the chair to continue using his computer, "So..." He whispered. "I know they said you're a news caster, but what station do you work for?" He asked softly, clicking on different links on his screen.

You cleared your throat, "I, uh, I work for STVU. I do field... field reporting." You swallowed roughly, feeling your throating drying up more as you spoke, “They decided it was easier-“

Yeosang chuckled, “All I needed to know was the station.” He pulled up the news website, playing back the live feed. “These your coworkers?” Yeosang motioned to the screen.

Nodding your head, you looked as they stood in silence and you could already imagine the teleprompter moving before their eyes, the producer nodding them to continue. You could imagine the shock from them calling on you, and finding your producer picking up your now shattered cell phone on the ground as the hostages continue to file out of the museum. 

Yeosang tapped a pen on the desk, “Looks like the missed out on the money shot ‘cause you weren’t there.” He chuckled, exiting the full screen, “They really depend on people of your career.”

You coughed lightly, “So, what’s the point of keeping me here? If they depend on me so much, what’s the point?” Yeosang turned around in his seat, using his legs to roll over to you on the couch, “Because it gives us an upperhand.” He smiled, almost sinisterly, grabbing your free hand, “It gives us a huge hand. Return the Dream Texts to the most loyal group, Kyomi, or we kill off the newscaster.” He chuckled, looking up at you sitting on the couch, fear brushing your brows and forehead in the form of sweat, “But, you already know we don’t kill people.” He laughed, pushing across the floor back to his desk, “Or, do we?” He began to type on his computer, “I mean, if we did, it’s not like anyone would find out. We have this disposable land, buried under these old junker cars. If we did kill anyone, we’d bury them under those junkers and call it a day. And, the dead can’t speak.”

The way he spoke about it made you wonder, have they really never killed anyone? Have they really, honestly, never did what he spoke about?

Laying down on the couch to calm your anxiety never really helped; In your everyday life and in this situation now. Normally, you’d come home from work and eat, drink, and then lay down on the couch until you passed out from exhaustion, but here — here was so much different. You didn’t feel overworked, you didn’t feel tired even in the slightest, you weren’t hungry, you weren’t thirsty. You were just horrified. And uncomfortable. Your hand would normally meet your hair halfway through the night but with your hand chained up to couch arm, you couldn’t get comfortable. And the only way to get comfortable was to have your bone pressing against the bottom of the arm of the couch.

You just decided that staying awake for the rest of the night would be fine. After all, you did have a later broadcast time rather than waking up at the crack of dawn. So, staying up wasn’t immediately out of the question; in fact, it would’ve been the perfect option.

It was damn near the crack of dawn, and Mingi was right, Yeosang didn’t get any type of sleep. Not even a second of resting his eyes. He just sat in front of his computer screen, typing on his keyboard with a click from his mouse here and there. You wondered how he could do that, especially when you, personally, couldn’t sit at a desk for longer than 10 minutes before getting up and finding anything else in the world to do. You honestly didn’t know if he even got up and used the restroom, if he got something to snack on or to drink. He seemed completely entranced by his computer screen.

You assumed if you loved what you did that doing that type of work wasn’t as grueling.

With creaky steps, down came a lethargic and gloomy looking member of Kyomi, his blonde hair sticking up in every direction. He rubbed his chest from under his shirt, his sweats hanging around his waist, “Sang,” He called to the one sitting at the desk.

Yeosang only responded with an uninterested sound, typing something else into his computer, and a click from his mouse echoing around the two.

“Did you even get her anything to eat?” The other man asked, turning his eyes from you to the other in the chair.

“Jesus Christ, San, she’s not a fucking dog.” Yeosang scrolling down the page, “If she needed something to eat, she’d let me know. We’re like best friends, now, right, Newscaster?”

San looked back to you, rolling his eyes, “Are you hungry?” The fear overpowered San’s kindness, and you felt scared to even speak your mind. You were starving. You didn’t anything since before you went live on screen, and you had your entire menu for the week planned out. But, if he was offering to get you something to eat, you wouldn’t turn down the offer even if it killed you. So, ignoring every thought bubbling in your head like soda pop, you nodded.

San looked back to the one slumped over in his chair, scribbling down something on a notepad, “See? She was hungry.”

“Not my problem.” Yeosang shrugged, “Even if she was, it’s not like I had the key to unlock her.”

“Oh, shit.” San wandered back up the stairs, poking his head down momentarily, “Hold on, Newscaster, I’ll be right back!”

You sighed to yourself, sitting up in the couch, skillfully moving your arm around the arm of the chair to have it rest there comfortably. Sitting on the couch, confined to one spot brought back memories of your high school years, awkwardly sitting on your friends couch as they went to retrieve something from their bedroom, leaving you there to do nothing but play on the cheap cellphone your mother purchased for you. It felt exactly like that moment, with your “friend” across from you as they were comfortable in their room while you felt like you stuck out like a sore thumb.

San quickly hurried down the stairs, a key around his finger as he walked over to you, to unlock the cuff around your wrist.

This could’ve been your moment to pack up and run. This could’ve been your out. And you would’ve done it, if not for San locking the other open cuff around his wrist, smiling as he looked at you, “Now, you can get those legs moving.”

He locked the cuff around your wrist just as quickly as he unlocked it, making it known that he’s used them for something of this exact situation before. San helped you up off the couch and steadied your wobbly legs as you stood.

“Sang, I’m going to make breakfast, if you want any.”

Yeosang yawned as you walked past, the computer screen lighting up his features and the blonde hair covered up by a black beanie, “It’s fine. It’s about time I head to sleep anyhow.”

San scoffed, “I get that you’re our eyes through out the night, but you seriously need to fix that schedule of yours. You spend the whole night keeping tabs on tabloids and news broadcasts, but they never post during the middle of the night.” He scolded, with you standing there like a clueless bystander, which you were, but you had a bit of a better idea on what exactly Yeosang was keeping an eye out for.

“Heard it all before. You say that until STVU posts all of this Newscaster’s notes on us and suddenly we’re compromised.” Yeosang stood up, stretching his arms above his head, “With that being said, I’m heading up now.” He shut off his computer and wandered over to the stairs leading up to the mysterious upper floor, “G’night, San. See you later, Newscaster.”

You lifted your free hand in a silent attempt to bid him a goodnight, or good morning in this case, and looked at San.

“He’s a trip.” San sighed, leading your cuffed hand behind his into the rickety old kitchen, “What are you hungry for?” “Um,” You shrugged, “Anything, really. I could eat anything.”

San lead you over to the foldable kitchen table that was enough to fit two, and unlocked your cuff, almost forcing your hand against the brace of the table as he locked you in, “Sorry, safety measures. You understand, right?” He smiled at you as he kneeled down to unlock his cuff, shaking his hand, “I’ve only had mine on for a couple minutes. How did you wear that for so long?”

You shrugged, looking around the kitchen for any type of impossible escape. It was in this moment you realized just how tired, panicked, and anxious you were. The late night shift was hitting you a bit too hard now, the drowsiness infecting your eyes like a sickness. You were worried for the next person to walk down the stairs, what they'd say or do. And you were anxious for your day's beginning behind these walls. Should you be worried about what they'd do to you, or should you just stick out the days and hope with enough time, you'd be let back into the world and live your days like they were your last? 

Everything in the kitchen of this shack they inhabited was rundown. There was a vent with no cover, the floorboards squeaked with every step San took across the room, and if you moved your own feet enough, you could feel the splinters covering the floor. The appliances and cupboards looked like ones they found in the junkyard just outside their front door, although you had to admit, the repair on the appliances were like no other, giving a clean finish with a bit of damage here and there. Whereas, you could not say the same for the cupboards which looked like they were living on their last leg of life; cracked wood, rusted hinges, and some even missing half, or a whole door. 

San pulled open the fridge and pulled out a carton of milk, then opened the cupboard and pulled out a sack of flour, and a pan, “Do you like pancakes?” He asked, sickly sweet that made your tummy hurt.

You turned your eyes to him, nodding.

San smiled, grabbing the pancake mix from the cupboard as well, making his way to the stove to turn it on, “So,” He started, “I know you’re a newscaster, but other than that, I know nothing about you.” He looked back to you, “Tell me about yourself.”

You shrugged, “Um, well, My name’s Y/N, I’m in my 20’s.” You shrugged again, realizing now that sharing your life story to an unknown stranger who also happened to kidnap you and used you as an advantage hostage for the government to give them what they want. “What is it exactly you guys want?” You asked hesitantly, scared to have touched a nerve.

“The Dream Texts.”

‘Which are?” You made a face, and turned your palms upwards, shrugging.

“Which are-“

“Which are none of your business.” Another voice echoed, and you turned around to find a groggy Seonghwa, glaring at you from across the table, “That information is classified for Kyomi, only.” He leaned against the table, “If your view on us changes, maybe you’ll find out.”

“Hwa,” San started, flipping a pancake onto the pan, “Come on.”

“What?” Hwa immediately began to push away from the table, and sized up the other male across from him, although they were practically the same height.

San gripped the pan’s handle, “Think about it. If she’s gonna be here for as long as we’re hoping, she should get to know us. Us, personally, and us as an organization.”

Seonghwa stepped closer, glaring at him, “And why would you do that? You’re willing to lay everything on the line for a snake to share it with everyone she’s knows, if she ever does get out.” Seonghwa had San practically up against the wall of their kitchen in the shack, and San’s knuckles went white as his grip tightened on the handle.

“You really don’t want to me to hurt you.”

“Like you’d ever hurt me.” Seonghwa chuckled, his tongue poking his cheek, “If you even move so much as an inch-“

The chair to the table across from you was pulled out, and you pulled your eyes from the fight, to find Yeosang sitting there, yawning, “They’re fighting again.” He sighed, leaning on his hand.

“Do…” You paused, “Do they always fight like this?”

Yeosang moved his hand side to side, “Sometimes. It’s always something stupid.” He complained.

You looked at Yeosang just for a moment, the side of his face all too familiar for only being in this place for a few hours, his birthmark decorating the side of his face. His hair was mussed in all different directions, and there were purple bags under his eyes, possibly from his insane sleep schedule. 

You looked back to the two across the room, Seonghwa holding San by his shirt against the wall as the latter tried his best to swing the hot pan across Seonghwa's head, the perfectly cooked pancake laying on the floor, now broken into pieces.

"Oh, my pancake." You whispered under your breath, sighing, placing your hand against your belly as it grumbled.

Yeosang sighed, standing up from the table, "Alright, you two." He wandered between the two, opening the fridge, "What happened?" He pulled out a wrapped bowl of what looked like macaroni and cheese, using a spoon discarded in the strainer and then ate the food cold, not bothering to step out of the duo's way. 

The two immediately began to go on a ramble, San pointing the end of the frying pan at Seonghwa's face, and Seonghwa keeping San pinned against the wall. Yeosang looked between the two, absorbing all the information as if he was in a comedy show, shoveling another spoonful of macaroni and cheese into his mouth. 

And as the two men threatening to bite each other's heads off settled down, Yeosang turned to set the bowl beside him, "Now, doesn't this all seem silly?" He asked sarcastically, a smile crossing his lips.

San and Seonghwa continued to glare at each other, releasing each other from their grasp, just as the other members joined to watch the drama unfold in the doorway of the kitchen. Hongjoong sat at the chair across from you, and the others peeking in. 

Yeosang patted both their backs, "Okay, good. Let's continue planning our next move." He nodded, picking up the bowl and wandered out to the living room, the sound of a gentle clatter from his spoon hitting the bowl as he set it down to get into his chair comfortably. "Mingi, pull up the National Bank."

Mingi yawned, "It's too early for this." He rubbed his eyes, but nevertheless, sat down at his computer and typed in the National Bank of South Korea, "There."

From being attached to the collapsable table, and with the room being empty, you listened as closely as you could to what exactly they were planning. You heard a voice here and there asking questions before Yeosang took over, "The National Bank has a piece of the Dream Texts, and I know where it's hiding." He chuckled darkly. 

You already saw the perfect opportunity to get your ass away from here; in front of you, sat a shoddy door, with a lace curtain that must've been pinned up in an attempt to make it look not so bad. It was only a mile from you, at least it felt like it, when it was only a couple steps ahead. And you would've taken it, if it wasn't for the giant, grey collapsable table you were currently handcuffed to. You would've ran out the door, screaming your head off about the horrendous situation you found yourself trapped in to anyone who would listen. You had an idea to even carry the table on your back almost like you were Sisyphean rolling the boulder up the hill, for all eternity. 

San's voice cut through the air, "Y/N?" He called, peeking into the kitchen, his voice recognizable enough to cut your thousand-yard-stare in half, "You okay?" He asked gently, looking at your eye's connecting to the door.

You turned to look at him, your eyes delayed like your mouse as work with the horrendous input delay, "I'm okay." You nodded to him, even willing him to accept it with a gentle smile. 

"Well, alright." San nodded back, "If you need anything, we'll be in here." He smiled, dragging his feet across the floor and sitting on the couch as Yeosang continued.

In a perfect world, they would've recruited you into their ranks, having you join in on the meeting about what came next, allowing you to go to and from as you please, make your own food. And overall, have you free of the pinching cuffs and let you exist as yourself.

"Seonghwa, Wooyoung, and Yunho, you two will enter from the top window, using the special forces gear we got from Jongho's truck run." Yeosang held the pen cap in his lips, as he pulled out the printed blueprint from his printer next to his desk, "That way we can get an upper hand for the Dream Texts. You three will check the top floor while the rest of you, hold the bottom floor."

"It'll just be me and Joong." San pointed his finger at them both, "We can't possibly hold an entire floor by ourselves. I mean, it took Wooyoung, Yunho, Joong and I to just barely keep the floor of the museum clear."

Yeosang smiled a bit more sinisterly, "You're all forgetting one valuable hand in all of this." He cackles.

"I hate when he does this." 

How, was all you could ask yourself. How is it possible to be in this situation again? The cramped van, the uncomfortable ropes and the barrel of the pistol pressed against your temple. And it happened to be the only nice member holding it there. You were blindfolded, and you wouldn't be surprised if you were dead already. This all had to be some type of nightmare.

Despite being the very valuable part of this plan to get into the bank, you were the one that was once again at the end of the barrel. When you learned that you'd once again be placed in that terrifying position of playing a hostage, Yeosang spoke with almost a chuckle, almost like he liked seeing someone under duress. As well as the others. 

All this for some stupid writing? All this for Dream Texts. It was hard to believe you'd be forced to stay with them. 

Jongho, who you learned was Web, after connecting the dots, was driving around the city in a car that was a little too small for the group. You were aware of all the codenames at this point. Wasp was Seonghwa, Hornet was San, Killer was Hongjoong, Sharp, Wooyoung. Spiral, Yunho. And Base was Yeosang and Mingi. 

You knew their plan, and their means of getting to the oh-so desired Dream Texts, which you still had no idea what it was about or why it was so important to them. The only thing you could think of was National Treasure, the Nicholas Cage movie, which was, in it's entirety, about a treasure map on the back of an official government document. Maybe that's why they want it so bad, you thought, for money and fame.

Jongho stopped, dropping off the five in front of the National Bank, one you attended since you began your adult life. It had a bittersweet nostalgia, the building. It was where your family was charged foreclosure. It was where you cashed your first check after a successful month of your career. It was where you paid the down payment for your family's new house, after living with family for years. 

Some would say you had a humble upbringing; learning the importance of money and paying dues where it's needed. You would say you had a difficult life. Getting a job as soon as you could, paying for your own high school expenses, and funding your own college education and tuition. You were constantly stressed out, and even now, with a steady job, you were considered a workaholic, but who could blame you? Cause and effect is what you normally pushed it off with. 

Seonghwa, Yunho and Wooyoung split off from San, who gripped your arm tightly, and Hongjoong. They all had their weapons around their shoulders and masks that covered their faces, that you weren't even aware they had put on. The masks were different from what you had first seen, this time, they all donned balaclavas, unlike the clown masks you've seen them in previously. 

You were still blindfolded, a sound of a shattering glass echoing through the sky, San tugging you along into the building.

You were aware that you, in this situation, were a hostage again. You weren't sure if this is where you died, or if they'd take you with them again. So, you tried to settle the pit that lingered in your stomach as San shoved you onto the floor, a ray of bullets echoing through the air and a loud yell of "get down!" interrupting the fire. 

You felt that anxiety and impending doom creep into your chest again, your brain shifting gears back into fight or flight. After all, you were nothing but an accessory for them to use. Your life, to them, had no meaning. They could preach that they don't kill all they would like, but they would actually have to take responsibility for their actions of causing psychological damage to others.

Hongjoong cleared his throat, raising his voice, "We are Kyomi! We require the Dream Texts. Who here is the bank manager?"

A woman shakily raised her hand, and looked around anxiously. 

Hongjoong motioned for her to approach, and when she was close enough, Hongjoong gripped her arm and looked her in the face, "Open the safe, and don't try anything funny." He whispered. 

You used the linoleum floor to push the blindfold from your face, catching sight of Seonghwa and Yunho standing on the second floor, their guns positioned at the back of the victims. It almost looked like they were ready to shoot. 

Hongjoong lead the bank manager around to the safe at the back of the building, where she opened it with shaky hands. Then a shot was rung out.

The desk someone sat at was completely destroyed, the sight of Seonghwa glaring through his balaclava. 

"Every one of you to the center floor now!" Seonghwa shouted, and people began to shuffle towards yourself and San. From the position Seonghwa was in, it was obvious he could see the entire floor. 

Hongjoong returned with the bank manager, a plastic wrap tucked into the vest he wore. "That wasn't so hard, was it? And no one got injured." He chuckled, returning the bank manager to the group that sat on the ground floor.

Hongjoong spoke clearly, "Secured. Web, whenever you're ready." His hands rested on the gun, and looked into the faces of the victims; some were teary eyed, some were angry and some were avoiding their eyes. 

You looked into the eyes of one, sympathizing as their eyes watered in terror.

This. This was your out. 

You opened your mouth as San began speaking, and didn't mutter a word; just mouthed it. Using your eyes to motion them to look at Hongjoong, you mouthed the instructions. And they only furrowed their brows, shaking their head, scared of even the possibility of getting injured. 

If anyone was going to be able to end this, it had to be someone who could fight back. And there was more than enough to take the fight between the four invaders. If they had the possibility of saving everyone, even yourself, they should take it. They would be reveled as heroes; people who saved the hostages of the National Bank. But, no one would take the risk. They all had families, friends. People they loved. Creatures they loved. They wouldn't risk it. 

If you were to be the one to sacrifice, they would do it. Because the blood staining their hands wasn't as bad as leaving the ones they loved. 

You assumed Jongho must've responded to Hongjoong's call. San was quick to pick you up off the floor by your restrained arms and drag you out of the building. You looked around for any type of exit to get away from them. Standing around was just as bad as doing what they were. But, once again, like every chance before, they had nearly every corner blocked off. Seonghwa, Wooyoung and Yunho were walking from the back of the building around the corner and Hongjoong opened the door for us all, before you got thrown in the back just like before. 

You anxiously watched the hostage all relax, and you begged, pleaded for a way to feel that comfort, of being able to relax. Not constantly feeling like you were under watch by these monsters. Jongho drove off as everyone sat in their seats, taking the initiative to drive away from the building, and as you drove off, you saw the police round the corner, and everyone filed out, some falling to their knees from fear. 

You wished to feel their fear. And the rush of being alive after a five minute standoff with five villains. You were oddly surprised that you could feel fear this intensely through your bones, despite being with them for a day.

"Now, you're one of us." Wooyoung chuckled.

You looked at him, your brows furrowed, "What?"

Seonghwa turned from the front seat, looking at you, "You've committed as much a crime as we had."

"Again, what?" Your teeth grit, "I was kidnapped. I was held hostage." You pointed out the obvious, looking between the men in the car, "I was an unfortunate victim in this whole situation!"

San chuckled softly, "Aiding a criminal in a crime is just as bad as doing the crime." You could already hear the condescending high pitched voice he spoke with before the words even left his lips. "You're just as guilty as we are."

"I. Was. Kidnapped." You emphasized, "By you! Those people you all just traumatized, are not the only victims." 

Seonghwa waved his hand, turning back to the front, "Someone blindfold her again. And gag her. She's getting annoying."

"You're no better." Jongho mumbled, his hand tightening on the steering wheel, "We still have a few miles to go."

Jongho easily turned into another lane, leaning on his hand as he drove.

Seonghwa looked back at the others, "Well? Are any of you gonna do it?" 

San sighed, "Yeosang said not too!"

You completely forgot that they had in-ears wrapped around the shell of their ears, all communicating between one another. You felt out of the loop; what exactly did Yeosang say not to do? What were they communicating between each other?

Seonghwa sighed deeply, obviously annoyed as he pulled out a single of his own in-ear, and motioned to you.

Seonghwa wrapped it around your ear for you, slowly pushing it into your ear.

"Go, for Base." Seonghwa called.

Yeosang cleared his throat, "Y/N? Are you there?"

You nodded, before realizing that he couldn't hear you, which you choked out a "yes" in a small, shy voice.

"If you look out onto the road, you'll see the route back to the dump." He spoke simply, "Because of this, we have no other reason than to recruit you." His voice was filled by the keys of his keyboard, "You'll either have to pledge loyalty, or we have no other option then to keep you hostage. And, possibly kill you."

"You don't kill people." You shot back, looking at the road in front of you.

Yeosang chuckled. The clicking of the keyboard stopped, a gentle creak from his chair echoing, "We unfortunately have to finish off the ones we try to recruit that don't agree. Just a little Kyomi group secret."

The list of charges they could catch just add up; armed robbery, kidnapping, assault and battery, and murder. You had the benefit of doubt that they didn't kill, and Yeosang obviously had a heavy heart telling you what exactly they did. 

"So," Yeosang chuckled, "What'll it be? Be part of Kyomi, or meet the sweet embrace of your own inevitable destiny?"

You sighed; It was a lose-lose situation. Either commit crimes and the possibility of life in prison, or die? If you had another option, you'd take that in a heartbeat. Being a housekeeper, being an informant for the group, or just going home, would have sufficed. 

But, obviously, they cared too much about their pride to let you off the hook so easily. They cared too much about those Dream Texts that you still have no clue what they were about. They cared too much about their own safety to risk sending you off in the world.

You clenched your fist, "How do you know that I'm not in connection with the police? What if I let you all take me hostage?"

"Because you aren't that smart." Yeosang whispered, his voice tickling the inside of your ear, "L/N Y/N, graduated from SKU with a degree in journalism, which is surprising, since you only had a 2.8 GPA throughout your school career." His voice twinged with amusement. "You spend majority of your money at the convenience store and on bills. You live in an apartment complex, although I won't share the address, I know where it's located. Your social security number is—"

"Okay, okay." You stopped him, "Okay, fine. I get it." Your lips trembled as you spoke, "I'll... I'll join Kyomi."

Yeosang chuckled, "I knew you'd choose the right choice." You could hear the smile in his voice. "But, for the time being, you'll have to keep being restrained, for the safety of my comrades."

You wanted to curse at him, and let all of your aggression out on him. If they really thought they were gonna get away with this, they were sorely mistaken. 

You would find a way to report them, and you would finally be free of the wack jobs that thought it would be a good idea to kidnap you.

It's been two months since Yeosang thought it was a good idea to have you join Kyomi. And it absolutely was not. Your plan to get out of there as quick as you could wasn't working as well as you hoped, but, everyday, you spent your hours looking for a way to leave, to report what exactly happened to you.

Your face would briefly show up on the news every now and again, with your family begging for you to find your way home, as if the police force haven't already ruled you out as presumed dead. 

The last everyone saw of you was at the National Bank, where you were pulled away by the rope tied behind your back. You still feel the rope around your wrists every now and again, waking up from nightmares, hoping it was all a joke that you were put in this position. 

Nevertheless, you pretended to be on their side. Seonghwa has lightened up to you, and will even indulge about San and Wooyoung's ridiculous behavior. Mingi was back in the game, having you taking over his spot as resident hacker of the group. Those coding classes would've done you well, if you had any idea this is what you'd be doing. Yet, it seems like every time you touched a keyboard, your mind blanks on why exactly you agreed to do this.

Yeosang has everything blocked on your computer, which you believed he put on as soon as Mingi said he'd want to join the guys on their heists. 

You've been given a new identity, essentially. They didn't call you "newscaster", they called you "Centipede," which you wholeheartedly believed was Yeosang's idea, after he shared his disgust to centipedes after. You and the arthropods. 

You wore an in-ear, just like Yeosang did, and talked with the guys while they were out, and it still hits the ear wrong when they call you the name. Like they were taunting you.

Aside from the new, definitely underpaying job and the new name, you could not even begin to describe the bedding situation. You shared a bed with 7 others; all guys. You were, rightfully so, tense every time you walked in after a shower to grab a fresh pair of clothes. The beds were lumpy and you slept on the bottom bunk, shared with Seonghwa at the top, who slept like a rock, but was surprisingly easy to wake up when it was needed. A slight tap on the shoulder and he was awake. You didn't understand that when you were first nabbed by them, when he was sleeping in the van. Not to mention, he slept max four hours. Wooyoung and Yunho had a bad snoring problem, so you could rarely get any sleep through the two months, but now, unfortunately, you were growing accustomed to it. It was like white noise. And you didn't even want to start with the splinters you received on the first night; bad mistake not thinking to borrow someone's slippers.

Hongjoong, Mingi and San were light sleepers. You'd shift in your bed across the room, and the three of them were already staring at you, like you were in the wrong. San slept with stuffed animals, which was entirely uncharacteristic of the Hornet you met the first time you were brought there. 

Everyone of them were uncharacteristically what you thought; Seonghwa was actually a sweetheart when he wasn't under pressure; he enjoyed building legos, and had the ones he built sitting in the shared window the two of you had. San was an animal lover, and you had to turn away multiple strays he brought back to the shack. Mingi was quiet. He had a bunch of interests that you really couldn't keep track of. Yunho was like a giant puppy. A single bit of praise and his invisible tail was wagging like he had happy tail. Hongjoong was much more serious than the others, despite his first introduction. Wooyoung was more or less the same, but when he wanted to be, he was much too serious than what you were used to. You were used to his boisterous laugh that echoed through the house, yet he gets pulled out into the field and he changes demeanor completely. Jongho wasn't fond of praise and gratitude, in fact, he spent most of his time waiting for the guys to finish up the heists by driving around, listening to girl groups. 

The only one you could never really understand was Yeosang. He seemed much like the same as when you first met and saw him. Bags under his eyes from staring at a screen all night and all day, disheveled hair and kept to himself. You both never slept at the same time. He was the eye in the sky, and the security. He slept around the time all of you woke up, yet, he was up and at 'em not even an hour or two after he slept. Now that you think about it, there was only eight beds available in the barracks, as you like to call them, and you were the eighth. It made you think about where exactly Yeosang would sleep, and you began to wonder if he took your place on the couch to rest or if he stole someone else's bed to sleep in.

This morning started like any other; restless, tired and exhausted, and you were aware that all the words you were repeating to yourself had the same meaning, but that only emphasized your point that you were so exhausted, you couldn't think of anything else. 

Yunho and Wooyoung were snoring so much that night, you thought they might've caught a cold from the way they sounded. Maybe that's why Wooyoung was so goofy with you, the lack of oxygen to his brain during sleep.

Hongjoong woke up and wandered over to you, nudging you slightly, and you turned to look at him. "Holy shit," he began, "I think you're beginning to spend a bit too much time with Yeosang." His finger went under his eye and began to swipe there back and forth. 

You sighed, sitting up, "It's not that. They never shut up." You whispered to him, pointing at the two chronic sleep apnea patients, "I'm so tired." The exhaustion was beginning to catch up to you, and you rubbed your eyes. 

Hongjoong smiled softly, "Well, today's a rest day while Jongho tries to find a new car for us to use the plates you found yesterday. Take the day to yourself."

You sighed, nodding lightly. 

Normally, taking a rest day back in your normal life, you would have went out shopping and went to visit friends and family. Now, all you had to yourself was a walk around the junkyard, occasionally ending it earlier than you would have liked to due to a pest running rampant through the disgusting, rusted cars and whatever trash was left in there. 

And that was definitely not going to cut it. 

"I'll make some breakfast. Eat, then come back up to rest." Hongjoong basically planned your entire day for you. All you wanted to do was sleep the day away, which is something you've done a lot on rest days. 

Hongjoong wandered around the corner to get downstairs and you laid back on the lumpy bed, your head meeting the pillow in a short second. The snoring seemed like it was getting louder by the second, and you were too exhausted to even move to cover your ears.

You shifted positions to face towards the empty bunk Hongjoong left, wrapping the weighted blanket around your body, and burrowing your nose into the soft fabric, sighing as you felt your tension melt away. 

If you were home in your apartment, you wouldn't have had this issue. You wouldn't have to try almost anything to fall asleep. Hell, you wouldn't have even woken up. Tale has it, you were a heavy sleeper before you were brought here. 

Shutting your eyes and hoping for the embrace of sleep to take you over, you sighed just as the steps creaked. Opening your eyes was already too much of a labor, so you just covered yourself more with the blanket.

A sigh exited from someone's lips, the floorboards creaking as they walked over towards the bottom bunk bed and laid back. Wooyoung was directly above them, as they laid in Hongjoong's empty bunk.

"Shut up." A kick was met to Wooyoung's stomach from underneath, right underneath the bed slats. "Get a mask." They scolded.

Opening your eyes, the exhaustion was already setting again, squinting as you looked across the short distance.

Yeosang laid on the bed, the shadow under his eyes already looking worse for wear. His shirt was discarded on the floor, and his sweatpants were below his hips. He covered his face with his forearm, sighing as his body relaxed. 

Okay, so Yeosang was attractive. That much was obvious. And, what's the worse that could happen? He breaks your heart because he's too focused on Kyomi? Or, he doesn't see you the same way because he works too close to you?

You blinked as you watched his body relax, his free hand resting on his belly, his fingers brushing the waistband of the grey sweatpants.

The last two months were long. Tiring, even. But, just like you would do in high school, you'd take extra care into your appearance, even if it meant you got a second longer of a look from someone.

"Stop staring at me." 

You nearly jumped out of your skin at the harsh call, feeling your ears bleed red. 

Yeosang moved the arm over his eyes and faced you, his hair falling in front of his eyes.

"Sorry." You mumbled, "I was spacing out."

Yeosang chuckled, "You're an idiot."

The jab was meant to be cruel, but you could see the sparkle in his eyes, and the smile that crossed his lips, and oh, my god, did you hear that laugh? The way he spoke, even if it was meant to be cruel was so soft, and you know it's just how he is; his care and warmth are there, despite the harsh words that bite at you.

You rolled your eyes, curling your legs under the blanket, "Are you going to sleep now?"

Yeosang shook his head, "I never really sleep much when I get up here." He mumbled, studying the slats as if there was something there, "Wooyoung and Yunho snore too loud."

You laughed softly, "Tell me about it."

Yeosang smiled softly, closing his eyes briefly, "I wonder if it's even worth sleeping in here."

Shaking your head, you smiled gently, "It's not." It was simple, shortcut. "I haven't gotten a good night's rest since I've been given this bunk."

Yeosang's face relaxed, turning his head back to you, "Can I ask you a question?" His voice was like shoes dragging through gravel, and his eyes stared at you intently. You couldn't help but nod. "Why did you agree to stay? And why haven't you even tried to leave yet?"

"Oh, my god, you mean I could've went home?" You asked sarcastically, your eyes playfully widened. But, you saw the look in his eyes and decided that maybe it was time you opened up to him. It was your turn to sigh, turning to look up at the slats that held Seonghwa's bed, "My life was going nowhere in the job I was in." You spoke simply, "I didn't even want to work for a big news station like that. I would've rather have worked back in my hometown, but, someone got the job I wanted."

Yeosang looked at your profile, his eyes scanning the way your nose was, the curve of your lips and the long eyelashes you had. He's worked beside you for two months, and he never noticed just how enticing you were. Your eyes turned to his, his heart nearly beating out of his chest.

"Besides," you started, "My family never really checked up on me." Shrugging, you got all the more comfortable, "Everything we see on the news feels a bit fake anyhow."

Yeosang couldn't really recall his family life before Kyomi and the Dream Texts.

"We've given you so many opportunities." Yeosang whispers. 

You chuckled, "Did you really though?" You asked softly, "The last two months, I'm scared to even try to sleep." 

Yeosang shook his head, "You didn't have to be scared." He mumbled, "We've always given you an option."

His eyes were shining, the sun hitting his brow bone to give you a better look at the honey eyes he had. 

"Well, I'm here now." You responded, his eyes completely captivating his beauty.

Yeosang and you held the eye contact, not saying another word to one another. Wooyoung and Yunho's snoring filled the air between you two.

Tension, heat and pressure surrounded you both, before Yeosang scooted himself off the bed and wandered over to you, climbing on top of you over the blanket and leaned his face close to yours.

"Do you feel it too?" He whispered, his lips only inches apart from yours.

A breath was caught in your throat, and you swallowed roughly. You assumed he was talking about the sudden tension that covered you both, and you agreed. You did feel it. It loomed over your head, every so often. Now, during missions, after missions.

"You do feel it." Yeosang smirked, leaning forward to encapsulating your lips with his own. 

The dream you've had every night about him was coming true. Yeosang had a sweet tooth, the citric acid from Sour Punch Straws he frequently ate echoed against your lips. His long hair practically covered his eyes as the strands brushed your cheeks. His hands were hot against yours as he intertwined your fingers with his own. His weight was distributed evenly on top of you, basically pinning you down to the bed.

Yeosang pulled his lips away from yours, his face still centimeters from yours, "I've been wanting to do that since you took over Mingi's desk."

You blushed, feeling the blood rush through your neck up to your ears.

Yeosang's hand gently cupped your cheek, rubbing your skin with his calloused thumb, "Tell me if you want me to stop."

His lips met your neck, his tongue gently running along the skin, his hand hot against your cheek. His lips left wet kisses against you, and when a gasp escaped on a certain spot, they turned up into a smile, gently biting the skin with his teeth. 

His lips, his lips, his lips, it was all you could think about as they moved from your neck, down your chest, stopping just at your belly button, placing gentle kisses on the skin and rubs your thighs with his hands.

You were so nervous, you honestly couldn't remember the last time you got laid, let alone by someone you work with. If you remembered correctly, it was a year or so-

Yeosang had pulled your shorts off, along with your panties, smiling softly, "Look at you, kitten. Aren't you so pretty?"

God, you thought, When he calls me that, it makes me want to scream. 

His smirk only grew wider, "Do you want to continue?"

You nodded your head vigorously, already sure that you would have given yourself whiplash, "Please."

Yeosang settled in between your legs on his stomach, throwing your legs over his shoulders and held your thighs in place with his hands.

His hands were strong, and veiny. They were warm around your thighs, compared to the cold chill in the air. His callused hands were rough against your soft skin, his tongue a nice heat against your mound.

Your hand shot to grab at his hair as he sucked on your clit, a soft moan escaping your lips.

"Shh, baby, you don't wanna wake up the others, right?"

It was impossibly hard to think of keeping your moans back, since Yeosang was making you feel so good.

Yeosang continued his pace, his tongue dipping down in between your folds, working his fingers against your clit.

The thought of waking up the others from their slumber excited you, and almost made you infinitely more comfortable with the idea.

Yeosang kept his eyes trained on you as your chest rises and falls, watching how each movement of his tongue affected you. And when you began to groan, your legs shaking, Yeosang knew just how well of a job he was doing.

"Sang..." You whimpered, thighs threatening to squeeze against his head. 

Yeosang chuckled, using his thumb to pull the hood of your clit back to teasingly bite at it, lifting his head as you let out a loud yelp. He glanced around the room, hearing an interruption of Yunho's snore before he began once again, "Come on, kitty cat, can't you try to keep quiet?" He sat up, positioning himself between your legs, his buldge pressing against your heat, the sweats he wore staining with the wetness from your cunt.

"Sang..." Your voice was strained, looking up at him with begging eyes, "Fuck..."

"Can't get the words out?" Yeosang smiled, leaning forward as he laid on his arms on either side of your head, "Come here, baby." He whispered, pressing a deep kiss against your lips, one of his hands running through your hair just as the other tugged his sweats down, the tip of his cock pressing against your entrance, "Is this okay?" He gasped softly.

You nodded, "Yes, yes... More than okay."

Yeosang smiled softly, capturing your lips once more as he slowly pressed into you, the heat from the stretch as you grew accustomed to the size of his cock was painful, yet pleasurable. "Fuck, you're so tight, baby." He bottomed out, holding you close to him as he slowly moved his hips against your own. He chuckled as a loud moan escaped your lips, using the hand that tangled in your hair to cover your mouth, "Shh, shh, angel." He cooed softly as his thrusts grew faster, looking between the two of you where you were both connected.

Yeosang's cock twitched against your walls, listening to your groans and smiling as he felt you clench around him.

"Y/N!" a voice called up the stairs, and Yeosang and you both shared a look. "Hey, Y/N, are you still awake?" 

Yeosang adjusted your position so you both laid on your side, pulling the blanket over his head, looking up at you, "Pretend to be asleep." He whispered, his cock continuing to press into you. "And keep quiet."

You furrowed your brows, looking down at him before Hongjoong stepped up the stairs. Yeosang's hips continued to roll against yours, and you felt a soft whine about to escape your lips. 

"Hey, Y/N." Hongjoong approached the bed and despite your best efforts, you screwed your eyes shut, and buried your face in the pillow. Yeosang moved slow, pressing soft and silent kisses against your sternum. "Y/N, food's ready."

Your ears were bright red, the soft sounds of your wet cunt echoed against the walls. Or were you just toning out Yunho and Wooyoung's snoring? 

Hongjoong called your name one last time before he found his way back down the stairs. As if on cue, Yeosang peeked his head out from under the blanket, chuckling softly, "Good girl." He whispered, grasping your hips tightly in his hands, "You're just a good girl." Yeosang thrusted deep into you, "Gonna cum for me?" His thumb rubbed at your clit, his voice gruff and strained as he laughed at your convulsing.

"Mmhmm." You whined out, gasping as his thumb continued his assault.

"Cum for me, kitty." He whispered, moaning out as he felt his own climax quickly approaching, "Fuck, you feel so good."

As your cum dripped from your cunt, Yeosang was quick enough to pull out from your entrance, his cum coating your lower half, his gasps turning into panting as his cock twitched in his hand.

Yeosang chuckled breathlessly, leaning forward to press a kiss to your forehead, "Fuck, baby." He smiled, holding your ankles gently to move your legs from around his hips, "I knew you'd feel good."

The action you both committed finally began to register in your brain. With 4 of the other members of the Kyomi group in the room. You quickly reached your hands up to hide your face, chuckling softly, "I can't believe we just did that." You whispered out.

"I can't believe we did that with the guys in here." He smiled, pecking your cheek before he pulled up his sweats and stood from the bed, rising his arms to hold the side of the top bunk, looking down at you, "Wait here." Yeosang turned to the restroom, grabbing a wash cloth and sitting beside you on the bed, "It's gonna be cold." He warned, chuckling softly as he pressed the cloth against your mound.

You blushed softly as his gentle hands cleaned your skin of his climax, "Did you mean what you said?"

Yeosang looked up to look at you, "You know me better than that." He mumbled, "You know I'm not one to say anything if I don't mean it."

"So, you've really been thinking about this since I took over Mingi's desk?"

Yeosang smiled, "Actually, I've been thinking about it since you got your callsign." He folded up the cloth, setting it down on the window sill, "I didn't make it up for no reason."

You pulled your bottoms up your legs, laying on your side to look at him, his arm around your hip as he leaned on his hand, smiling at you, "I thought you hated centipedes?"

"Sure. But, it's just a callsign." He shrugged, "It doesn't mean anything." He used his other hand to cup your cheek.

"Okay, sure." You rolled your eyes, smiling at him, "You must've had a lot of fun when taunting me."

"Sure did. Why? You liked it?" He chuckled, pinching your cheek between his fingers.

"Maybe I did."

"Bet you did."

"Yeosang!" A voice shouted up the stairs, and Yeosang was quick to move from where he sat, rushing down the stairs.

You could feel your heart racing in your throat at the urgent call and was about to follow until Seonghwa quickly dropped down from his bunk, "Stay here, Centi." He patted your shoulder as he moved around the room, waking up the remaining members, who also were quick to stand up.

Wooyoung and Yunho, who were formally snoring, furrowed their brows as they stood up. San shot up at the sound of urgency in Seonghwa's voice. 

"What's happening?" Your voice trembled, watching as the three men walked by, "Seonghwa, what's happening?"

Seonghwa almost made it past, before he sighed, "You wouldn't understand." He grumbled, "Just stay put." He continued down the stairs, skipping each step as he moved, "What's happening?"

The voices all blurred together, your feet slowly moving down the steps before you sat down just out of view.

"The cops are on their way." That was Hongjoong, "Mingi just confirmed with the scanner." You could hear the shaking of his voice.

"Jongho isn't back yet." Seonghwa glanced amongst them all, his arms crossed, "Meaning our means of leaving are pretty low."

"We could hide in the junkyard, couldn't we?" San whispered. 

Seonghwa rubbed his temples, "That's fucking stupid, San."

"We have 30 minutes to either pack up and get out of here, or 30 minutes to find a way to stand our ground." Yeosang grumbled, the echo of the mouse clicking between them all. 

Wooyoung stomped towards the steps, "Well what are we waiting for?"

Seonghwa sighed, "We'll never get anywhere in 30 minutes." He crossed his arms, "Packing up everything we need is too much of a hassle. Centi will never get far enough."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Yeosang interjected.

"She's not exactly the most active person, Sang. Why do you think I stuck her with you?" Seonghwa bit back, "We'll have to find a way to get out of this."

"Oh, dude, I can't go to prison again." Yunho groaned, tangling his hands in his hair.

"Yeosang, Mingi, wipe everything from the PC's. Hongjoong, San, you two find somewhere to get rid of our weapons. Yunho, try to get an update on Jongho." Seonghwa's brows were pinched together, crossing his arms over his chest once more, "We're gonna have to find a way to make us seem like normal people."

Everyone was quick to do their assigned tasks while you sat there on the stairs, your eyes glancing at them all from the railing of the stairs. Seonghwa turned back to the stairs, looking at you with sharp eyes.

You've remembered that look. The same look he gave you when he first saw you at the museum, and you felt just as small now as you did back then.

Seonghwa gripped your hair, looking at you, "Let me figure out you had something to do with this, and I won't stop hunting you down for the rest of your life."

"Ow, Seonghwa..." You grumbled, trying to pull your hair from his hand, and sighed as soon as he let go, "I promise, I didn't have anything to do with this."

Seonghwa continued to walk up the stairs, his eyes stuck on you until he turned the corner into the room. 

You glanced back over the railing, your eyes meeting Yeosang's. As if under a spell, you slowly began to move down the stairs to stand beside Yeosang, whose hand squeezed yours.

"I hope everything's okay." You whispered.

Yeosang smiled softly, "We'll be fine." His eyes focused on the screen, watching the recovery drive get moved to the USB plugged into the computer, "Not the first time this has happened."

Nodding your head, you moved to sit on the arm of his desk chair, his arm wrapping around his waist as he finished clicking his mouse.

Everyone was off doing what Seonghwa assigned them to do. San and Hongjoong returned from the junkyard covered in dirt, sweat rolling down their foreheads. Mingi and Yeosang both ran recovery drives through the computer before they both ripped apart the components and tossed them on their desks.

Seonghwa was stowed away upstairs and Yunho paced the front porch of the shack, the rain pattering atop the roof, a loud twang! echoing the room as the droplets rhythmically dripped into a steel bucket placed against the wall by the stairs.

"17 minutes out." Seonghwa called, tossing a backpack onto the couch; your couch that you were handcuffed to months ago.

You've grown to love the rundown shack; the leaky roof, the splintered floor, the creaky stairs. You thought you'd grow to hate the building, but... it grew on you like a rash. 

Yeosang glanced up at you as you sat on the arm of his chair, "You should go change." He whispered to you softly.

You nodded your head, "Yeah. Yeah, I'll go change." You stood up and made your way up the stairs as if someone else was controlling you. Your shoulders slumped, your head hanging down between them. You pulled on the pants one leg at a time, your shirt over your head, a coat, thick socks and shoes. 

"We can't bring her with us." You heard the voice, immediately recognizing it was Seonghwa.

Yeosang piped up, "And why not?"

"At the moment, she's one of the largest missing person's case in the country. If someone sees her with us," Seonghwa trailed off.

"We can't just leave her." Mingi mumbled, cursing to himself as a clatter dropped to the floor, "We're safer if we take her with us."

Seonghwa voice strained, "She won't say anything." He scoffed, "She's too afraid."

"She's coming with us." Your heart twanged as Yeosang's voice dropped, "End of discussion."

"Since when have you been one to make decisions?" The sound of Seonghwa's heavy boots bounced off the walls.

"Since you've grown more incompetent." Yeosang responded back, "She's coming with us."

You adjusted the jacket over your shoulders, staring at the backboard of the old closet, trying to make it seem like you weren't evasdropping at a time like this just as Yeosang reached over your shoulder to grab his own pair of clothes.

"You shouldn't be listening to that stuff." Yeosang leaned against the wall as he pulled on his clothing, moving some of his hair from his eyes, "You know Seonghwa's just being dramatic." 

"I can't help it." You shrug, turning to look at him as he laced up the boots, "Yeosang."

"Hm?"

"What's supposed to happen?"

Yeosang paused from tying his shoe before he started once more, "Same thing that happens everytime we get caught up like this; run until we find somewhere to set base again." He mumbled, "Y/N, you know, if you do this..." He stood up, grabbing your hand in his own, squeezing it, "If you do this, you'll be just like us." 

You furrow your brows, "Have I not always been like you guys?"

"Of course you have, but... this'll seal the deal. Before, you were just collateral, a hostage. But now, if you follow us down this path, you'll be a fugitive. You won't be able to go back."

You shrugged, "Well, I don't wanna go back."

"No," Yeosang chuckled bitterly, "No, you don't understand." He shook his head, "Think about it. Use the last..." He glanced at his bare wrist as if there was a watch there, but you knew he was counting down the seconds in his head, "15, 14 minutes of this time to really think."

He walked off, despite one of his boots not being tied through, not giving you a second glance. 

You stood in the middle of the room, as everyone moved in and out, grabbing their items, their clothes, their prized possessions. Hongjoong was kind enough to pack up Jongho's belongings for him.

You spent that time really thinking like Yeosang said to. You thought about your life before these two months; it was bitter, it was bland and it was unexciting. But, here... with the boys, with Yeosang, it was everything you wished for. You didn't have to dress a certain way to work. You didn't have to pretend to like the people you worked with. You didn't have to pretend like everything was okay. 

You moved your feet down the steps, seeing the 7 men who you have grown so accustomed to standing in a circle, glancing you up and down as you tightened the straps of the bag over your shoulders. 

"What are you guys waiting for?" You mumbled, looking at them all as you approached the door. 

And despite your excitement to pull open the door to the downpour, seeing eight to nine police cars skidding along the road with their lights flashing and sirens chirping was enough to have you withdraw your hand from the handle.

"Shit, they're here!" San shouted, looking out the windows to the front of the shack, "If we go out there..."

"Stop making a bad situation worse." Seonghwa bit, "They aren't gonna shoot on sight. They have too damn much to ask."

"What are we gonna do, Hwa?" Yunho asked.

Seonghwa pushed his way to the front, gently moving you aside as he slowly opened the door, his hands raised, "Don't shoot." He grumbled, lacing his fingers behind his head as he stepped down the shack's rickety steps.

The rain water pattered on his head, moving close enough to look down at the police.

"My name is Park Seonghwa." He shouted, "I'm 25 years old. I was born in Jinju. I have an older brother. My blood type is..." He was listing out random facts about himself, until an officer approached him and was quick to cuff him.

"They've got Wasp." Hongjoong dropped his items and went out into the rain, steam practically escaping his ears as he tried to intervene, only to be met with the butt of a gun and fall into the mud.

"Shit." 

"Show yourselves." You recognized the man on the intercom. God, how could you forget? You've spoken to him so many times. The police chief of the National Police Force.

San was the first to lead the way out the door with his hands up, Mingi, then Yunho, then you, then Yeosang. Police officers began to surround the area, Seonghwa now being moved into the back of a police car, Hongjoong's unconscious body being placed in the back of the same one. One by one, they got handcuffed.

"Yeosang!" You shouted, ready to run to him before the police chief placed a heavy hand on your shoulder.

"Y/N..." Yeosang barely whispered over the rain, before he was shoved into the back of a police car, sat beside Yunho was looked like he was about ready to start kicking at the officers.

You gave one final panicked look at the Kyomi members in the back of the police cars; a calm and collected Seonghwa, an unconscious Hongjoong, a panicked San and Mingi, an angry Yunho. Yet, you couldn't read Yeosang. You never could. 

You couldn't tell what he was thinking.

The police questioned you for hours about the last two months you spent with Kyomi, and you spent a lot of time with a hired therapist they said that brought in to help hostage victims. Your family were ecstatic to see you, nearly moved to tears at the sight of you wearing the black clothes, your shoes covered in mud and your hair stringy from the rain.

Despite answering their questions to the best of your ability without incriminating anybody, the entire time all you could think about was "Where's Yeosang? Is he in the station too?"

You were granted release from the station not long after being taken in, the blanket wrapped over your shoulders and holding the cup of coffee they offered you as they kicked you out like a newborn calf. You sniffled softly from the chill of the rain lingering in the air.

You glanced upwards, and your bottom lip trembled as you saw Jongho sitting there in a car, climbing inside beside him.

Neither of you shared words; Jongho wasn't one for that, but he did gently pat you on the head as soon as he turned the car on and began to drive off, the sound of 2NE1 filling the quiet space.

You never knew what happened to the boys. Jongho and you both tried to figure out what exactly happened but... there was never much about it on the news or anywhere else. Yeosang, the boys and that rundown old shack in the middle of an old junkyard were an exciting new beginning to a life you only got a taste of. But now, you'd have to live with the bitter, bland and boring life that you had previously. 

Becoming a news reporter wasn't your first option...

copyright © 2023 thewonandonly. all rights reserved.

#i love it im ngl #so happy with it #kang yeosang #yeosang #yeosang scenarios #yeosang smut #yeosang reactions #yeosang oneshot #yeosang imagines #yeosang blurb #yeosang blurbs #yeosang timestamp #yeosang timestamps #yeosang x reader #ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez smut #ateez reactions #ateez oneshot #ateez imagines #ateez blurbs #ateez blurb #ateez timestamps #ateez timestamp #ateez x reader #thewonandonly #q #kpop

[solradguy]

Yepyep I saw the list of things, that's the reason I asked. I meant it more in the sense of 'do you have any idea where/how to find the ones still missing' but I should have phrased it more clearly

Anyway, like I was saying, I think I might have a couple of the ones on the list? Not 100% sure though, and afaik all the ones I have are from DNA (please forgive Muchlax in the corner, I had to throw a bunch of stuff out of the way and only had so much space) They're pretty much all manga but I did manage to score the petit book for a really good price on ebay some time ago

OH WOW, NICE!!! There aren't scans of any of these books online, as far as I know, and definitely not in the archive Volcanic manages over on the lore Discord. That Petit art book is an especially good find, congrats on that!! I've never seen that one for sale anywhere before.

I've been scoping out eBay, Yahoo Auctions JP, and Mercari JP for the books, in that order since eBay is usually the cheapest (don't need a proxy service) but Yahoo JP seems to have the best selection. Mercari JP usually has more of the popup shop stuff and merchandise instead of the actual books but sometimes books show up on there.

Suruga has some REALLY rare stuff, that's where I got the Dengeki PlaySstation mag, but it's entirely in Japanese and requires a proxy service to buy from outside of Japan. Here's a link to a modified search just for the books category for Guilty Gear: [clicky] (品切れ = out of stock)

Idk how much Japanese you know, but here are the full English titles for your books: Top row (Left to right):

Guilty Gear Petit 1 & 2 Official Fan Book

Guilty Gear X Comic Anthology (DNA Media Comics)

Guilty Gear X Plus Yonkoma Kings

Munchlax <3

Bottom row (L->R):

Guilty Gear X Yonkoma Kings

Guilty Gear XX ♯Reload Comic Anthology (DNA Media Comics)

Guilty Gear XX Comic Anthology (DNA Media Comics)

Guilty Gear XX Comic Anthology, volume 2

I had no idea the XX Comic Anthology had two volumes!! That's good to know. Adding a note to the guide post for that.

A few people on here in the tags on some of the manga posts I've made have mentioned owning some of the other manga volumes too, though I don't know how many people will be able to scan theirs. There was a guy on Reddit a while ago that had a full collection of all of the GG manga but didn't know how to scan them and idk if they ever will so I'm not holding my breath over it haha

#asks #long post #Hope this answers your question. Sorry :'D

[sulettaofficial]

More fan theory/spoilers/thoughts for The Witch from Mercury

Okay I feel like this is obvious but

The prologue showed a lot of augmentation/cybernetics being used as a way to adapt to space (and it looked like just general medical help). (Disclaimer: It's been a minute since I've watched the prologue and I should do that again).

In episode 5 Elan says that enhanced people are "created", so they're probably chock full of cybernetics. I guess they could be vat grown clones, but considering he mentions their faces being stolen from others and the amount of cybernetics in the prologue, I'm guessing enhanced people are anywhere from 90% cybernetics to 50/50 cybernetics/flesh. Elan also does the same "glow" thing that Aerial does when she activates (y'know, those red colored lines), which I'm assuming whatever Permet is. So at the very least enhanced people probably have permet in them.

A lot of media that deals with cybernetic enhancement tend to have an element/theme of discrimination and "what it means to be human". Newtypes (which are sort of psychically enhanced, though naturally) are generally discriminated against by oldtypes (ergo, Gundam has always had these themes to some extent). On top of that, while the prologue seemed to show a lot of people with enhancements, there was a conflict over the GUND Format technology. Including Cardo justifying the use of GUND to her executioners by saying that humanity needs GUND to adapt to space. TL;DR Gundam has themes of discrimination between those who are considered "Normal" and those who are considered "Abnormal", and The Witch from Mercury seems to be focusing more on cybernetics as opposed to being psychic.

Finally, it looks like the use of cybernetics and augmentation is considered to be abnormal in G Witch. Instead of people using the GUND Format like Cardo intended, it's instead anywhere from outlawed to only used for those with grievous injuries (e.g. dismemberment).

I think that in future episodes (especially if I'm right about Suletta), we're going to see more themes around discrimination against enhancements and "what it means to be human."

Again, this is probably obvious since Gundam has done this before, and it usually starts once a major character is revealed to be in the discriminated group. But I wanted to get my thoughts out there!

#The Witch from Mercury #G Witch #The Witch from Mercury Spoilers #G Witch spoilers #Suletta Mercury #Cardo Nabo #Elan Ceres #fan theory #Neve posting

[blueaizu]

Suspended Twitter

Today my Twitter page was permanently suspended, so this will affect a few things. Needless to say I am not happy. This is going to be a long post, so find out more after this jump if you want to know what's going on.

By the way: I'm not holding back. There will be swearing and unfiltered anger, so if you don't want to see it, don't hit the jump.

First some introductions, since this Tumblr page is still pretty new: my name is BlueAizu. I'm an anime artist who has been posting artwork on websites like Twitter for a long time (psst, check out #BlueAizu's Art if you want to see what I do). I'm also exploring game development and I have also done livestreams of myself drawing or making my game in the past. To this end, I am currently in the middle of rebranding myself so I can enter into the world of Vtubers. At this time I'm not quite ready to do a full reveal of my model, but if you've looked at my profile picture you already have an idea of what he will look like. I'm very pleased with the progress so far and I'm looking forward to finally sharing him when the time comes, but enough about that.

As you may know, Twitter was recently bought out by Elon Musk for an extremely large sum of money and he is, shall we say... not the greatest? He's always looking to try and make back his investment and changing the platform for the worse, saying it's for "free speech" and that he'll be "a savior of social media" like he's the second coming of Jesus Christ. One of the things he's done is allowing people to pay a subscription for verification, which used to be a symbol of authenticity for public figures to avoid impersonation. Not anymore!

On top of this he's started a separate subscription that's way higher than $8 USD per month for organizations and businesses, currently $1000 a month. The ultimate kicker is that it still costs $1000 just to apply and it's non-refundable if you're not accepted, which is scummy enough on its own but the page for signing up doesn't mention that anywhere, just in an easily overlooked "Terms of Service" page at the very bottom. A horrible, horrible practice all around.

So what does all of that have to do with me specifically? Well, I was replying to someone who ended up unwittingly paying the full sum of $1000 (they got the chargeback, thankfully, but not without involving lawyers). My response: "I hope Elon's personal Tesla self-drives off a cliff," which while disapproving of Elon, was meant to be tongue in cheek and I wouldn't want it to actually happen to someone. Apparently this single tweet was severe enough that it warranted an immediate and permanent suspension of my account. My Twitter account, which I've had for over 10 years, was in good standing for all of that time and I used mainly for retweeting art and geeking out about video games I liked, is suddenly unusable and I can no longer participate on Twitter at all. This is completely unreasonable because, while I'll accept responsibility that it wasn't the most tasteful thing to say, permanent suspension from the platform is completely disproportionate retribution. There are so many pages and people who post and continue to share far worse, more offensive content for the sole purpose of spreading unbridled, bigoted hatred and malice for eliciting reactions. The single tweet I made is apparently far worse than that.

Also in the same e-mail as an added bonus, it mentioned that Twitter Blue isn't automatically disabled for suspended accounts, just as one additional middle finger for anyone this situation happens to. Probably counting on people forgetting about it and still paying it anyway without realizing! I suspect that my tweet was used as a scapegoat to get me off the platform for being critical of the decisions Elon has been making for Twitter and generally just not liking him, at all.

So, I'm done with Twitter. I already sent an appeal and I'll be happy to delete the tweet in question if given the chance, but after this? After this complete shitshow? I have lost all of my respect for Twitter. I now realize that it is a shitty platform, with a biased owner that has a cold, self-centered, devil-may-care billionaire toddler's ego the size of fucking Jupiter that's as fragile as a single strand of uncooked spaghetti. He doesn't treat his employees well, he can't take criticism at all, and his actions paint him as being unfit for running one of the biggest social media platforms, which many people have relied on for years, in every way except being able to buy it out. I am very outraged this has happened, and I will not forget this.

And that's the end of my story of why I'm no longer on Twitter.

Good-bye, Twitter.

May you go up in flames, your employees freed from Elon's iron grip and then move on to more fulfilling careers elsewhere.

#announcement #twitter #account suspended #I'm very sorry if this if the first time you're seeing me #I'm not normally this negative #elon musk

[champagnepodiums]

based on everything you’ve done so far with tracking, who would make your top 10 for most marketable drivers?

UGH okay look, this is a GOOD question but it has been at the top of my inbox staring at me since you asked it and I have been going back and forth so I'm going to give the disclaimer that this is a MESSY list and I'm going to include IndyCar drivers because I track them as well (I just don't post about them as much).

So of course, I have to mention Lewis Hamilton first and foremost. The man is like involved in everything now -- fashion, music, he now owns a part of an American NFL team. I think if you asked random people to name race car drivers, Lewis' name would be included.

I think Max Verstappen is also highly marketable. His social media might not reflect it but the F1 fans I know irl are Max Verstappen fans so there is a pull to him that I don't think is tangible or quite so apparent on social media. He's young, he's good, and people that.

Charles Leclerc has been a rising star but he really skyrocketed at the beginning of the season when it appeared that Ferrari might have a title-contending car. And even though Ferrari doesn't and Charles' gains have faded a bit, I think there is a lot of excitement around Charles and it will be supremely interesting to see where that goes for him.

These are the obvious F1 ones.

I think though, Pierre Gasly does belong on my most marketable list. Only 43.8% of his totals gains this season have come over race weekends, only Lewis Hamilton with a smaller percentage. So what that says to me, is that Pierre has been able to create social media gains through content and strategy more than other drivers have been able to.

As far as IndyCar drivers, Pato O'Ward is a rising star. He has the most followers on IG for a driver that wasn't apart of a different series before (Jimmie Johnson and Romain Grosjean being ahead of him). He is consistently a top gainer and while I know that has been helped by his affiliation with McLaren, I do believe some of it is because of Pato himself because other IndyCar drivers affiliated with McLaren have not seen anywhere near the sort of gains that Pato has.

I also think Scott McLaughlin is extremely marketable. He comes from SuperCars and from what I've gathered, he was VERY popular over there. He and Josef Newgarden have their youtube show called Bus Bros and between that and his 2022 campaign that notched Scott 3 wins, he has really endeared himself to IndyCar fans and I just think that is going to continue.

My dark horse marketable driver (moreso from a potential wise) is David Malukas. He was apart of the rookie class and he at least quadrupled his Twitter following last season and nearly doubled his IG following. He is garnering a reputation for being fun, kind and genuine and IndyCar fans have really started to respond to him. I wrote an article for my site where I broke down all of the IndyCar driver's gains and I dubbed him the rising star. I think he has a ton of potential.

So that's not 10 but close enough!!

[musings-from-an-elder-goth]

Gothy Magazines of the 80's

"So what if you were born in the era when they still used rotary phones and cassette tapes? I think it’s cute.” ― T.S. Krupa, Safe & Sound

I find it amusing how many youngish goths are fascinated at the shear number of magazines the average person might read & subscribe to back in the 80's. For folks who grew up with the internet as the preeminent medium for the transmission of info, the concept of physical media seems to have a peculiarly seductive pull. Perhaps it's the permanence of magazines? Having grown up with them, I've never understood the appeal. I, like everyone else I knew, was all too happy to trade magazines in for the immediacy of the internet. Most physical mags today are crazy expensive, with some running anywhere from $30 to $120 for a single issue which is absurd. I only subscribe to one physical magazine today (Procession), compared to the eight or so I might subscribe to at any given time back in the 80's. Only one was straight up goth. The rest were niche mags covering topics we goths favor such as horror, sci-fi, & fantasy, so they were merely darkly inclined. But in a world where normie mags outnumbered niche 100 to 1, beggars couldn't be choosers, and close enough was better than nothing. I'll limit this list to actual magazines and exclude graphic novels/comics, so here are the top ten magazines I and many of my goth friends favored back in the 80's:

I cannot emphasis enough how important Propaganda was for goths in the 80's and well into the 90's. It was the source of all info you would get regarding the more popular goth bands, concerts, fashion, styles, aesthetic, etc. - and it only came out 4 times a year. (!!!) As I've mentioned in a previous post, each issue was read and re-read and then given a further reading. They were shared with friends & concert schedules / images were torn out and pinned to walls. By the time the next issue arrived in your mailbox, the previous one looked like it had been through a blender. Propaganda ran from 1982 all the way up to 2002, so it managed to survive well into the early internet age. I subscribed to it from 1983 until 1989, and I'd continue to pick up copies here and there until about 1995. By that point, enough info had started flowing about online that I was mostly getting my goth news from the net. I believe I saw my last physical copy of Propaganda at a random party sometime in 1996. It was sitting on a coffee table and serving as a large coaster - yet another of the myriad uses we found for it.

Nowadays, we're accustomed to sci-fi and fantasy entertainment being widely available in multiple formats, but in the 80's the selection was severely limited. With only a handful of TV channels, it was rare for even a modest sci-fi or fantasy show to turn up, and they were always heavily dumbed down in a clumsy attempt to appeal to a 'mass' audience. This approach always failed, since the masses weren't interested and the target audience will always flee from something watered down. Heavy Metal filled this void. The writing and art were excellent and imaginative while the theme was decidedly adult and dark - all this appealed to my circle of goth friends, especially during our pre/mid-teen years. Amazingly, Heavy Metal is still around today, although it's been owned by four different publishing companies along the way. I thumbed through a copy recently and it's just as good now as it was then. It pleases me to know this singularly amazing magazine continues to entertain generation after generation of the darkly inclined.

Vampirella was the number one cheesecake mag for myself and my male friends, goth or not. There's just something irresistible about spooky girls. And what goth of either gender or orientation doesn't love a good vampire yarn? I wasn't allowed to subscribe to it until I was 11, but I had been reading it via older friends since the late 70's. Although I greatly appreciated her skimpy outfit, I also enjoyed the clever gothic story lines and was sad when it folded in 1983. Vampirella was acquired by another publisher and eventually returned in series form in the early 90's and has continued in various iterations right up until today. There are cautious whispers within the darkest halls of the inter-webs that our Lady of Perpetual Thirst will get another try at a movie in the near future. Considering the Roger Corman film adaptation / abomination from 1996, I'm less than enthused.

Omni magazine was an delightfully odd mix of science, fringe science, and sci-fi. The only reason it existed was because it was the pet project of founder Kathy Keeton and when she died in 1997, Omni died with her. Some issues appealed to the darkly inclined from cover to cover while others were less so, but it was almost always interesting. I think Omni could best be summed up as a peculiar, dark curiosity one might come across at a circus freak show. It's difficult to explain, but whenever I read an issue, it seemed as if I was reading an artifact from a parallel dimension - a world like our own, but just different enough to cause some unease. However, it was always a good kind of unease.

Famous Monsters of Filmland was the first niche magazine for all things spooky & sci-fi that later mags like Fangoria, Starlog, and Cinefantastique would run with and supersede the original. Starting way back in 1958 and running until 1983, this one focused more specifically on the various monsters running amok in the films and TV shows my friends and I favored and related to. It was always close to hand for a quick double-check of one beast or another. FMOF exists as a website today, but the articles are painfully infrequent and most topics are better covered elsewhere.

Horror is almost universally loved by goths, so any magazine devoted to horror films and TV shows would be popular among the darkly inclined and Fangoria was top of that particular genre heap. Long before 'behind the scenes' extras were common, Fangoria gave us insight into the making of horror films and also previewed movies that were months from being released. Even knowing how they did the effects of the werewolf transformations in An American Werewolf in London or The Howling didn't make them any less amazing. With the exception of a publication gap in 2017, Fangoria is still being printed today.

Hand in claw with Fangoria was Starlog magazine. While Fangoria covered all that was horror, Starlog covered all that was sci-fi & fantasy. Again, the behind the scenes of how special effects were done was always fascinating to my friends and myself, but we were especially drawn to darker sci-fi such as Blade Runner or Aliens. Starlog finally folded in 2009, unable to compete with the internet.

Cinefantastique covered all the good stuff - horror, sci-fi, and fantasy - and did it in a intelligent and scholarly fashion. My friends and I would read Fangoria & Starlog as the appetizer, then dig into Cinefantastique as the main course. The articles were huge, sprawling across numerous pages and never spared a single detail. The photography was equally lavish with high detail, high quality film stills and behind the scenes shots. Cine also frequently ran retrospectives on classic films, some of which many of us never saw until we finally caught them on VHS. Cine stopped being printed in 2006, but continues as a web site with very occasional (about one a year) articles.

As far as illustrated gothic horror went, there was none better than Creepy. Magazines such as Creepy and it's sister publication Eerie, continued to carry the torch of the long lost horror comics of the early 50's, pre-Comics Code horror boom. Since they were technically magazines, they didn't have to adhere to The Code and could depict all manor of horror and gore to the delight of myself and my devious little friends (fiends?). Many a story struck a particular chord of terror in my mind and lead to countless sleepless nights wondering if some half-rotten corpse was at that very moment shambling it's way from the graveyard to my bedroom window to drag me to the abyss - great stuff! Creepy ran from 1964 to 1983, and was revived from 2009 to 2016 until finally folding.

Creepy did so well that Warren Publishing soon created a sister magazine, Eerie (Warren also gave us Vampirella). Each featured page after page of gothic horror illustrated in pitiless black and white that was somehow even more terrifying than if it had been in lurid, blood soaked color. I never thought Eerie was as good as Creepy - perhaps Creepy was gifted with the A stories while Eerie had to make due with the B game. It was still good enough that I relished every cheap page that left black ink stains on my fingers. Along with Creepy, Eerie folded in 1983.

The were certainly other mags that one could consider to be under the goth umbrella. The Savage Sword of Conan was delightful dark fantasy and Spin might cover a goth band every so often, but these were not perused as frequently as the others listed above.

Something like 220 million Americans still subscribe to at least one magazine, so the medium is doing surprisingly well today. Although clearly, the glory days of each household subscribing to multiple magazines are but a distant memory.

creaturesfromelsewhere 4-17-2022

#goth magazines of the 80's #80's magazines #cinefantastique #famous monsters of filmland #heavy metal magazine #omni magazine #starlog magazine #vampirella magazine #creepy magazine #eerie magazine #fangoria magazine #goth #gothgoth #gothic #darkly inclined #propaganda magazine #80's goth #warren publishing #creaturesfromelsewhere #musings-from-an-elder-goth

[nevermindirah]

Do you have any thoughts on the use of AAVE for Nile (or lack thereof) in TOG fanfiction? I've been reading some Book of Nile fic and some writers seem to write her as a Millennial™ (using words like "fave" and "woke") but never acknowledge her Blackness in her patterns of speech. I know we don't see her use as much AAVE in the films, but I would argue she's in situations where code-switching would be valued (first in a "professional" environment in the army, then around a group of non-Black strangers).

Hi anon! I have many thoughts on this and I'm honored you asked me! But I should start by saying I'm white and any thoughts Black fans and especially Black American fans have on this that they want to share would be beyond lovely. (I'm not gonna tag anybody bc that feels rude but please add onto this post if any of y'all see this and want to!)

The main reason I personally avoid AAVE for Nile in my own fics is because I'm not Black. But Nile-centric fics by Black writers tend to avoid using much of it too, at least from what I've noticed/understood, and my guess is it's largely for the reason you mention, that she's in situations that encourage code-switching.

In movie canon Nile is highly competent at tailoring her language to each situation she finds herself in. This fantastic linguistics analysis meta shows how skillfully Nile chooses her vocabulary and grammar to meet her goals with different conversation partners in different contexts. In comics canon Nile had a bunch of different civilian jobs before joining the Marines, so she would've had experience code-switching in the ways that made sense for all those different contexts as well as the Marines and her family and high school and wherever else she spent her time before we met her. And now she's spending her time with a handful of immortals none of whom are native English speakers and a fellow Black American but one with a Queen's English UK accent whose professional experience is in the CIA where high-status code-switching is often an absolute must for success or even survival.

Fics featuring Nile are charged with extrapolating from that to how it might show up in her use of language that she's coping with a traumatic separation from her family and her career and pretty much everything she's ever known and now she needs to be able to make herself understood to people who seem to care about her and each other but are super duper in crisis, three (soon to be four) of whom predate Modern English entirely and the only one who's anywhere near her contemporary she's not supposed to talk to for a century. All of these people are telling her that pretty much any contact with any mortals poses an existential threat to her and the rest of the group. How the FUCK is she supposed to cope with that, like, generally? And would it be a more effective way for her to cope if she talked to Andy Joe and Nicky using the speech patterns that she used to use with her mom and brother, to at least retain that part of her identity even if it means having to do a lot of explaining, or would it meet her needs better to prioritize Andy Joe and Nicky understanding what she means with her words over using the particular words and grammar forms she used with her family?

I've seen several fics, both Nile-centric / BoN and otherwise, explore this a little bit in how/whether Nile uses Millennial™ speak. It's often a theme in Nile texting Booker despite the exile because of the popular headcanon that he as The Tech Guy is the only other immortal who understands memes. But Nile's much-younger-than-Booker mom probably uses Boomer and/or Gen X memes and Andy has been adapting to new communication styles for forever as evidenced by her canon high level of fluency with standard-American-accented English.

Which brings us back to people avoiding AAVE because they're not Black and they don't want to make mistakes (or they're not Black and they don't want to get yelled at for making mistakes, though I think many people overestimate how much they'll get yelled at while underestimating how much these mistakes can hurt). I can imagine some Black fans hold back from using much AAVE in fic because they don't want to share in-group stuff with white people who are likely to then adopt and ruin it, as white people so often do with Black cultural stuff. Some links about this including a great Khadija Mbowe video. I'm saying this gently, anon, because you might not know: woke, an example you cited as Millennial™ speak, is AAVE, and that's gotten erased by so many white people appropriating it and using it incorrectly online.

And also there's the part where fandom is a hobby and you never know when you're reading a fic that's the very first thing someone's ever written outside of a school assignment. This cultural considerations of language shit takes a level of effort and skill that not everybody puts into every fic, or even could if they wanted to because they haven't had time to build their skills yet. It's definitely easier for non-Black fans to project our millennial feels onto Nile than to do the layers of research and self-reflection it requires to depict what Blackness might mean to Nile, and it's not surprising that often people sharing their hobby creations on the internet have gone the easier route. There's not even necessarily shame in doing what's easier. It's just frustrating and often hurtful when structural white supremacy means that 3-dimensional Black characters are rare in media and thoughtful explorations of them in fandom are seen by the majority of fans as not-easy to make and therefore Nile Freeman, the main character in The Old Guard (2020) dir. Gina Prince-Bythewood, has the least fic and meta and art made about her of our 5 main immortals.

I've been active in different fandoms off and on for twenty years and I barely managed to write 5,000 words about Sam Wilson across multiple different fics in the 7 years since I fell in love with him. There's an alchemy to which characters we connect with, and on top of that which characters we connect with in a way that causes us to create stuff about them. Something about Nile Freeman finally tipped me over the edge from a voracious reader to a voracious writer. It's not for me to judge which characters speak to other individuals to the level of creating content about them, but I do think it's important for us to notice, and then work to fight, the pattern where across this fandom as a whole Nile gets way less content, and way less depth in so much of the content that's in theory about her, than any of these other characters.

Anyway, back to language. My two long fics feature Nile with several Black friends — Copley and OCs and cameos from other media — but all of those characters except Alec Hardison from Leverage aren't American. It's very possible I'm guilty of stereotyping Black British speech patterns in I See Your Eyes Seek a Distant Shore. I watched hours and hours of Black haircare YouTube videos in the research for that fic and I modeled my OCs' speech patterns on what I heard from some of those YouTubers as well as what I've heard people like John Boyega and Idris Elba saying in interviews, but the thing about doing your best is you still might fuck up.

I'm slowly making progress on my WIP where Nile and Sam Wilson are cousins, and what ways of talking with a family member might be authentic for Nile is a major question I need to figure out. For that, I'm largely modeling my writing choices on how I hear my Black friends and colleagues talking to each other. I haven't overheard colleagues talking in an office in a long-ass time, but back when that was a thing, I remember seeing a ton of nuance in the different ways many of my Black colleagues would talk to each other. Different people have different personalities! And backgrounds! And priorities! A few jobs ago my department was about 1/3 Black and we worked closely with Obama administration staff many of whom were Black and there was SO MUCH VARIETY in how Black people talked to each other, about work and workplace-appropriate personal stuff, where I and other white coworkers could hear. There are a few work friends in particular who I have in my head when I'm trying to imagine how Sam and Nile might talk to each other. From the outside looking in, God DAMN is shit complicated, intellectually and interpersonally and spiritually, for Black people who are devoting their professional lives to public service in the United States.

One more aspect of this that I have big thoughts on but I need to take extra care in talking about is the idea of acknowledging Nile's Blackness in her patterns of speech. There's no one right way to be Black, and Nile's a fictional character created by a white dude but there are plenty of real-life Black Americans who don't use much or even any AAVE, for reasons that are complicated because of white supremacy. (Highly highly recommend this video by Shanspeare on the harms of the Oreo stereotype.)

Something that's not the same but has enough similarity that I think it's worth talking about is my personal experience with authenticity and American Jewish speech patterns. My Jewish family members don't talk like they're in The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, and I've known lots of people who do talk that way (or the millennial version of it), some of whom have questioned my Jewishness because I don't talk that way. That hurts me. Sometimes when another Jew tells me some shit like "I've never heard a Jew say y'all'd've," I can respond with "well now you have asshole, bless your Yankee-ass heart," because the myth of Dixie is a racist lie but I will totally call white Northerners Yankees when they're being shitty to me for being Southern, and this particular Jew fucking revels in using "bless your heart" with maximum polite aggression, especially with said Yankees. But sometimes I don't have it in me to say anything and it just quietly hurts having an important part of me disbelieved by someone who shares that important part of me. The sting isn't quite the same when non-Jews disbelieve or discount my Jewishness, but that hurts too.

Who counts as authentically Jewish is a messy in-group conversation and it doesn't really make sense to explain it all here. Who counts as authentically Jewish is a matter of legal status for immigration, citizenship, and civil rights in Israel, and it's my number 2 reason after horrific treatment of Palestinians that I'm antizionist. But outside that extremely high-stakes legal situation, it can just feel really shitty to not be recognized as One Of Us, especially by your own people.

It can also feel really shitty to be The Only One of Your Kind in a group, even if that group is an immortal chosen family who all loves each other dearly. Sometimes especially in a situation like that where you know those people love you but there are certain things they don't get about you and will never quite be able to. I'm definitely projecting at least a little bit of my "lonely Jew who will be alone again for yet another Jewish holiday" stuff onto Nile when at the end of I See Your Eyes Seek a Distant Shore she's thinking about being the only Black immortal and moving away from the community she'd built with a mostly-Black group of mortals in that fic. Maybe that tracks, or maybe that's fucked up of me.

Basically, this got very long but it's complicated, writing about experiences that aren't your own takes skill which in turn takes time and practice to build, writing about experiences not your own that our society maligns can cause a lot of harm if done badly, it can also cause a lot of harm when a large enough portion of a fandom just decides to nope out of something that's difficult and risky because then there's just not much content about a character who deserves just a shit ton of loving and nuanced content, people are individuals and two people who come from the exact same cultural context might show that influence in all kinds of different ways, identity is complicated, language is complicated, writing is hard, and empathy and humility and doing our best aren't a guarantee of avoiding harm but they do go a long way in helping people create thoughtful content about a character as awesome and powerful and kind and messy and scared and curious and WORTHY as Nile Freeman.

#nile freeman #linguistics #TOG POC Love Fest #nileweek2021 #tog meta #tog #long post #mine #antiblackness #jewish things #hi i'm an antizionist jew no i don't really want to talk about it

[ratcandy]

Subcon Forest Analysis

Hi everyone I'm here to spill my aggressive overflowing thoughts on Subcon Forest and what it represents because it's been driving me insane since I finished the Sleepy Subcon time rift. Okay let's go. Obvious spoilers for AHIT ahead so proceed with caution.

This is also very, very long.

Disclaimer/warning: I will be discussing abusive/unhealthy relationships in this analysis. I mean. Vanessa. Come on. Also, there is a section on the nooses, and that delves, of course, into mentions of suicide. It will be sectioned off and easily skipped, but if you'd rather be safe and skip the entire post, that's completely understandable! Please stay safe. <3

Alright. Main point to be had here:

Subcon Forest is a giant extended metaphor for Snatcher's mind and character.

You all get to now listen to me spout nonsense about metaphors and symbolism because I'm a sucker for analysis and I'm given an opportunity to go ham. So perish.

The Ice

Let's start with the most obvious and most glaring thing in Subcon. The ice. It's everywhere. Not just outside Vanessa's manor, either; no, it's throughout the village, too. Shows up in the well and in random locations sprinkled about. When it comes to literal plot, we know that ice is just what lingers after Vanessa's wintery curse on Subcon. But going deeper and analyzing the meaning behind it?

Well, let's look at this from the perspective I've suggested. Subcon Forest being an extended metaphor for Snatcher's mind and character. A symbol for Vanessa then litters his mind, enough where it's certainly noticeable at first but blends in more easily once more of Subcon is unlocked to Hat Kid. This is clearly meant to be his lingering trauma, whether or not he wants to acknowledge it. Which he doesn't, as he never mentions it directly in his forest (that I can recall). Her influence plagues him, as to be expected with the traumatic experiences he went through with her. Breaking the ice is something Hat Kid must do in order to fulfill the wishes of the Fire Spirits (another subject I'll get into shortly), which, if self-indulgently playing with the found family idea, could mean that Hat Kid is helping him heal; if indirectly. Even if fulfilling the Fire Spirits' wish to die is... counterproductive, in that measure, which I'm now getting ahead of myself so hold on a sec!!

Vanessa. Ice. Everywhere. Traces of it all over his forest. That's the effects of an abusive relationship! Especially in a worst-case scenario where... yknow! One party in the relationship dies! So of course ice would be everywhere.

In and of itself, ice is a common symbol in literature and other forms of media. In this case, it's presented as an antagonistic force; emphasis is placed upon freezing and the harm that comes with it. The cold is unwelcoming, threatening, merciless. Snow can act as an insulating force, at least, but ice cannot. It can only make things colder.

A slight stretch: Seeing as this game deals a lot with time shenaniganry, I'm not sure if it'd be too out of left field to connect "freezing" with the theme of time. Yknow. Frozen in time. Both parties here, Snatcher and Vanessa, would be in this frozen state. One largely repressing it and never fully moving on, and the other doomed to her isolation ever since the event in question. They never moved past that moment after the Prince and florist's interaction.

The Fire Spirits (& the Portraits)

I'll put a slight warning here for suicidal ideation, if only because... it's the Fire Spirits we're talking about. It's not as grossly in-detail as the noose discussion will be, though, so make of that what you will.

To me, the Fire Spirits are a very interesting case. After all, they're fire. They're a direct contrast to the ice, thus being the only thing we're shown that could potentially melt it. The Fire Spirits, in my opinion, represent hope or a strength to continue. A strength to move on after troubles of the past.

...And that hope wants to die.

The Fire Spirits wish to burn out, to leave this mortal coil and abandon the forest to the cold. They make no effort to melt the ice, they simply dance, blissfully ignorant towards their surroundings. This being a metaphor for Snatcher's own hope for moving on is made all the more obvious by the fact he wants them gone. The first contract is to kill the Fire Spirits, to kill the hope. Perhaps he believes that sort of thing to be fruitless or naïve, so it only clutters his mind or has him foolishly optimistic at points. So, get rid of it. And the hope is happy to oblige.

(That, or their willingness to leave the forest to its own suffering and not aid in the ice's thaw angers him. Besides the whole "bark bark growl I can't get to parts of my forest because of them!!" which... also could represent a naïve hope clouding his judgement, not allowing him to see a bigger picture. But hope can't all be lost if one wants to move forward...)

A little side-tangent now on the portraits! And it's another slight stretch but the idea is in my head and I can't let it go. Portraits are another common symbol, usually being a physical representation of a memory or idea. For our purposes, let's say they're memories. I know in canon they appear to just hold souls captive or something but for now we're just Ignoring That(tm). The Fire Spirits have to burn the portraits to disappear. See where I'm going with this, maybe?

Instead of handling bad memories (or perhaps memories of the past in general) in any healthy manner, Snatcher chooses to forget/repress them, which just allows his hope to progressively die out.

I'm really hoping this is making sense because it makes a lot of sense to me but I might be insane rn

The Fact that this is a Forest

Forest symbolism breakdown! What's a forest usually mean in literature? "Traditionally, the forest has come to represent being lost, exploration and potential danger as well as mystery and 'other worldliness'." Okay. Yeah. Fair enough. That certainly works with the whole aesthetic we've got going on. Wood usually is life, growth and strength. But the trees of subcon are all dead. So what about that? It stands for death, big whoop, very spooky, we know Snatcher's dead and so are the children, yadda yadda wowie wowie. But. :) The trees in Subcon look a lot like trees that were scorched in a forest fire. Don't believe me?

(You could also argue they're just regular marsh/swamp trees bUT SSHHSUUHSH HANG ON HEAR ME OUT LOOK LOOK,)

What I believe to have happened was a controlled fire to rid the forest of the majority of its ice and snow. Likely done by Snatcher. It leaves behind a very desolate, depressing, barren scene... but. What else do dead/burnt trees symbolize? Rebirth. After all, controlled fires happen to make way for new trees to take the place of old ones. Some trees only drop seeds in fires/hot temperatures, so new ones take root and begin anew. Weird. It's almost like... I dunno. Snatcher was given some sorta second chance, given he's not just a corpse in Vanessa's cellar. So were the subconites. Another life given then by Snatcher. All connected I tell ya!!

Generally, aside from that, forests have many connotations. Mystery, isolation, claustrophobia; a place to dwell on regrets, or the past; to worry over one's future; to seek escape from or escape inside of... hmgmrnmm!

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- T / W -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

The Nooses

The t/w is given at the top and another cut-off point will follow the bottom of this, for those that would like to skip. This will delve into talk of suicide and abusive tactics used by abusers. Please don't read if it will upset you or make you feel unsafe!!!

Personally, I cannot stand the nooses, but that's just due to my own triggers. Were there a way to hide those from the game or replace the damned talking ones with anything else. I would take it. In a heartbeat. But I can still appreciate the potential analysis to be had with them. So now i'm gonna talk about it despite how uncomfortable it will make me to do so. yEa

So, what about 'em? There are three types of nooses seen in Subcon. At least that I remember but I didn't really go looking for them. Empty ones, ones containing empty subconites, and the talking ones.

Nooses in general obviously can hint towards suicidal thoughts or behaviors of the characters that interact with them. If saying Subcon is Snatcher's mind, it could suggest that he suffered from some sort of suicidal thoughts in life (or currently, if second death is possible... or if he never truly died... or maybe he's trying to figure that out...which has given me... a separate idea...uh oh). But. And hear me out. Different perspective.

A talking noose. I hate them with a fiery passion that is unmatched. But think of the packed symbolism of a noose that talks. And think more about what it says. "I wouldn't mind being strapped around a cute neck like yours." "Be careful now, I don't want to see you meet a miserable end anywhere, but with me." Oddly, a lot of what the noose says seems almost... endearing? One could argue it's a way of luring someone to put it around their necks, which in and of itself is a whole lot to unpack when it comes to suicidal thoughts beckoning one forward; painting itself as something romantic, almost. But. Here's a wild idea, now. What if the nooses, at least the talking ones, are another symbol for Vanessa?

They're tinted blue, after all. While Vanessa's scheme is more red, one could argue two things: One, ice. Blue. Ice. yeah. Or two, the fact that Snatcher's scheme is more purple. Blue and red... make... purple. So, for all we know, Snatcher's current state was a compound effort between suicidal thoughts and Vanessa's treatment of him. Perhaps he even found a way to put himself out of his misery before freezing/starving to death. (I know he has dialogue that argues against that, but... are we certain Snatcher would be the kind to admit suicide over freezing to death?... I don't think so.)

At any rate, a common threat by those in "control" of an abusive relationship is that of killing themselves should the other person not do as they desire. It's a cruel form of emotional manipulation to get their way, worse off if the other party is an empathetic individual. As a person who has been the empathetic individual in relationships like this... I would know. I've been here, unfortunately So, it's not completely out of the question to say Vanessa could've used some tactic like that, even before the whole... cellar ordeal. Did she? I dunno. I'm tossing ideas around. But if she did, the threats of such would sit around in the Prince's mind easily. Even if she has a reputation of not going through with it. It doesn't matter. That shit sticks with you forever, that scare, the potential of it ever being true, is horrifying and it ruins you. I'm projecting, Squirtle.

Still. A noose cannot hang itself. It has to have a victim.

...yea.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- T / W PASSED -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Misc. Ideas

- The spiders: Aside from the usual things spiders can be chalked up to symbolizing - toxicity, alluring danger, just... general pain - I like the potential wordplay that can happen here. Yknow. A black widow. Say the Prince and Vanessa were married when one died. What would that leave Vanessa? A widow. ...She's red and black, too. Yknow. Like a black widow. HA wordplay is fun isn't it?

- Snatcher's tree: Love this place, love sitting in here. But not the point! The inside of Snatcher's tree is such a harsh juxtaposition to the rest of Subcon that it kinda throws ya off guard. After all, the dark, purples and blues then contrasted with the bright warm colors of the inside. Even the music switches over. The thorns outside aren't present indoors. Ohh yeah this is gonna be on the nose as hell but the Tree(tm) is 100% representing Snatcher's appearance/put-on personality vs. his truer nature. Spooky outside with thorns, foreboding, unwelcoming. Then the more comfortable interior. VULnerable. Have I even mentioned that the tree is HOLLOW I mean COME ON. The sturdiness of that tree? Nonexistent. He's not a sturdy guy at all no matter how he fronts

- Intrusions are unwelcome: Snatcher does not like the fact that Hat Kid sticks around in his forest. His personal space. His mind. In fact he tries desperately to get rid of her after their fight, not wanting her presence in his forest at all. He has no problem providing more contracts later on with the Death Wish thing, and he finds great entertainment in messing around with Hat Kid, so it's not just a weird sudden hatred he has for her; it's the fact that. After she's finished being useful, he no longer wants her around, lest she find some things she shouldn't find. Now he's just uncomfortable with her in his personal boundaries. Could just be a denial that she's helped him heal (breaking ice, stealing from Vanessa, being something interesting for his kids to interact with) or just not really wanting a child to get wrapped up in. All that. Most likely the former. Considering the amount of joke-hints he drops regarding his background during his Death Wish dialogue. I see you funny man, making jokes out of your trauma as a coping mechanism. Punts him

Annnd I think that's all I got, for now! I'll make an update post if I get any more sporadic ideas. If you read this whole thing, thank you!! and also!! Wow that was a lot!! Hell world. Please feel free to elaborate on any of my points or debate with me on em!! I'm always open to other ideas, just be aware that if I disagree I am not shy when it comes to debate hehehe, tho I won't be aggressive to any extent I prommy!!

Alrighty. goes to sleep goodnight

#clamtalk #VERY long ramble #a hat in time #snatcher #ahit snatcher #subcon forest #vanessa ahit #ahit #analysis #the prince ahit #goes crazy. goes insane #ask to tag #i'm frazzled I can't add more tags I'll do so later

[sandrinachi]

DIY-University: Graphic Design, Illustration, Comics and Marketing

Hi,

I think we haven't talked in a while. Some of you may follow me on other social media accounts but tumblr is the only platform I use where I can write longer texts properly.

You're probably wondering what the title of this post is all about.

I have decided to honestly pursue my dream of being an artist. Some of you may say: but haven't you said this already? This is not news! And you'd be right. I did say this but it feels like it's been a hundred years since.

(Beware this is a long text. It also mentions depression)

For the ones that started following me at a later period: i've wanted to be a comic artist when I was a teen. However I thought my art was not good enough and when my time came to apply for university I got scared and didn't choose art, design, painting etc. I chose Japanese and English literature.

Fast forward 8 years later and I finally(!) got my BA. I wanted to work at a publisher. Most of the time you'd need a MA for that unless you learned the profession of book seller then you'd also have a chance. (Or so I was told.)

I did not want to study anymore and chose that road. I also thought that it's a great opportunity because I'd have an income for the next three years. In those three years I wanted to advance my artskills and become an independent self-publishing artist. What a great plan!

I became a bookseller in January. Two of those three years were just filled with pain and depression. I realized that I am not made for working in retail. I was dead inside all the time but I didn't want to stop learning the profession as I didn't know what else to do. I also felt it looked bad on a resume if I just left.

So I've been jobless these past 10 months. I applied to entry level positions at different publishers. Unfortunately I'm bound to my region to look for jobs because of the horrendous uptick in rent everywhere. I will never find a cheap one bedroom apartment like my current one anywhere else. It's corona time too which makes finding a job even harder.

The job centre allowed me to pursue further education. (while still giving me money!) At the time I was still thinking about working at a publisher and chose the print/publishing specialist module. It's been 5 weeks (of a 5-month course) and it was eye-opening. I really, really want to work in graphic design or marketing as a day job. (The independent comic-artist route has not died yet.)

Now let's talk about the title of this post.

I have lessons in Adobe Photoshop, Indesign, and Illustrator. These are all part of my job centre-paid further education. On top I have access to LinkedIn Learning which is a video platform with lots of courses. (In my country LinkedIn is not used as much as in the US) I can also use the city library for free.

I can't study at a university and the profession training pays too little so my plan is to do the most intense self-study session of my life. I was a bit overwhelmed by all the knowledge at my finger tips. So I searched for university graphic design course overviews and looked at what they're actually teaching there. I then made my own (DIY) course book which I can use as guidance during my studies.

Left picture: Photo of a purple scrapbook titled DIY course book in German.

Right picture shows the table of contents: Design Basics, Communication, Design/Art/Media History, Drawing, Typography, Photography, Software, Writing or Storytelling, Social Media and Online Marketing, Media laws and Self-employment. After all this in the second module I have electives where I can pursue whatever lesson I want.

The content of the book is a list of books and videos I should read/watch. There's also active software training and drawing practice included. As this is not a real course book I could include stuff you wouldn't see in a usual graphic design course like marketing for example.

The goal is to create a proper portfolio this time and apply for jobs. The city I live in has a lots of agencies where I can apply. More than publishers to be honest. I'll cast a net and hope I can find a job early next year

I have no idea if this is going to work out but I'll keep you posted!

#sandrinachi #diy university course

[solarabelmont]

HELLO!

I've risen from the grave, kind of. I just wanted to give everyone a bit of an update on what's going on on my end.

First things first, tw for mentions of chronic illness, my health/medical information, and COVID.

So I have Graves' disease which is an autoimmune disorder that affects the thyroid. To be overly simplistic about it, it makes my energy levels unpredictable and also affects my eyes/creates chronic migraines; I never know when I'm going to have energy, and when I do, I never know how quickly it's going to run out, and I have to be mindful of my screen usage because of my eyes.

This is something I only discovered at the beginning of 2020, so between that, a change in work, and the introduction of different meds, I'm still trying to understand what "normal" or "baseline" is for my body and what my new limits are since developing this disease 2 years ago.

As you can imagine, that makes trying to work, run an Etsy, make and ship candles, keep up with social media, and stay in touch with friends and family a lot to juggle. I'm also ADHD as hell, so things often slip through the cracks and as much as I try to avoid that, it's just the hand I've been dealt and I'm trying to reconcile that.

To add on top of that, we've come to find out that the COVID vaccines interact with my autoimmune disorder in a funky way. Again, to be overly simplistic about it, my immune system essentially goes into overdrive after a COVID shot. Making all those antibodies ends up depleting any and all energy I have for several weeks after the shot. I get the usual week of body aches and such after my shot, but the extreme fatigue extends on for quite a while. And when I say extreme fatigue, I mean I've been sleeping for anywhere between 15 and 20 hours a day (even with caffeine and prescribed Adderall).

You can skip reading this bit here if you don't really care about reading more medical crap

I got my first COVID shot at the end of March 2021, my second shot on 4/20 (nice), and I felt just like this after that second shot. I went to multiple doctors and had a ton of different tests done, primarily on my heart. All we found was that my heart rate was a bit fast but not concerningly so, and that it tended to spike when I made small movements like getting up to go to the bathroom and things like that. The conclusion was just that the Graves' was flaring up and messing with my energy levels and that I needed to work on getting more exercise so I didn't get so easily winded.

I had kind of convinced myself that I had blown my symptoms out of proportion in my own head, I just had more adjusting to do to this new chronic illness in my life. After getting my booster shot on December 16th, though, I've come to realize that my symptoms just gradually faded away over the several months I was seeing different doctors and getting tested. My booster brought ALL of those same symptoms back and I'm now remembering just how bad I was feeling in May of last year.

It's worth noting that I'm someone that's had my own bad experiences in medical settings with doctors being ignorant/negligent/dismissive/condescending/biased/etc. However, I can say in this instance that there really was no way for my doctors to know what was going on in May 2021. I've since spoken to them after my booster and we're all on the same page about this being an immuno-response to the shot. That said, it also means that they're temporary symptoms and I just have to wait.

In the meantime, I've been taking antihistamines to help somewhat suppress this crazy immuno-response and it's been fairly helpful. It's basically taken me from 0% battery power to 5% battery power that keeps connecting and disconnecting from the charger because there's a short in the wire. So, ya know, improvement, I guess.

So what's on the agenda for 2022 after all this

I of course have things I want to accomplish this year and share with you guys, I'm just trying to figure out how to mitigate my self-expectations in the face of my complete lack of energy. I know overworking myself isn't going to do anyone any favors.

With that in mind, I've been slowly but surely working on a line of Witcher candles and Lore Olympus candles (which will also be available as soaps, bath bombs, and sprays). I'm also going to be adding a new product to my shop which is a 5oz version of all the available scents in my shop! I've been wanting to create a candle in between the size/price point of a full 11 ounce candle and just a set of tealights, which finally seems possible for me to do. It's going to be a little bit before any of these items are available though, because there's still a lot of work and product testing that needs to happen, but soon enough!

I'm also going to be opening tarot readings as well. I've been reading tarot since 2015, for myself and other people, but I've never taken money for it. That said, Etsy is my only form of income right now and I've been stuck deciding between putting that income towards bills or the supplies I need to release these new scents (and restock on supplies for Arcana scents). So a small extra source of income that doesn't have an overhead cost would be very helpful in keeping those projects moving.

I also have some (minorly) bad news...

The manufacturer in which I order my fragrance oils from has discontinued a few of the key oils I use, which means there will be some formula changes coming soon.

They discontinued the main oil I use for Volta's scent the week I started filling pre-orders, which was upsetting but workable.

Then they discontinued one of the key oils I use for Muriel's fragrance. I have some back stock, so that's still being used up at this point, but there will be a slight change there soon enough. BUT I have an oil blend ready to go to replace the one that was discontinued, and it smells incredibly close, so with any hope, the change won't be noticeable.

They discontinued the key oil I use for Faust's fragrance, but it was an easy one to replicate, so not the worst thing to happen.

The one that really hit me is that they discontinued the oil most important to Asra's fragrance. Trying to replicate that one is going to be difficult, and I need to order a bunch of sample oils to even begin trying to find a decent blend. I don't have a back stock of that oil, unfortunately, so I'm in a slight crunch with his scent until I make enough money to order the supplies I need. That one was a real blow, it was my absolute favorite scent for my favorite character, and I know it's going to be really tricky to get the fragrance close enough. But fingers crossed I'll be able to make it work.

I just want to keep everyone in the know about what's going on! I'm more active on Instagram than anywhere else, so it might be worth following me there if you're not already. I will post with updates about when tarot readings are open, and when the new candles are ready to drop.

A big, big thank you to everyone that's been checking in on me and that's been very patient with me as I catch up on messages and Etsy orders! I really appreciate everyone that's been so understanding and supportive while I've been a bump on a log this month.

Everyone, please stay safe. COVID is still making its rounds, and the flu is having a party at the moment as well. Get your shots if you haven't already and it's safe for you to do so, and drink lots of water!

Also, to everyone that makes Asra content in any way, shape, or form, I love you. You've kept me sane in the times where all I can do is hold my eyelids open and actively simp for a fluffy-haired magician, so THANK YOU (and please continue making more, thankssss<3)

#sb speaks #im alive #updates #health #chronic illness #COVID

[bakagamieru]

Hi! I've been feeling really down, as well as frustrated and sad these past few days and I guess I'm here for a bit of reassurance maybe? Your blog was what opened my eyes to Ziam and also to the stunt ot4 v Zayn and all that, about a year ago, so I'm quite new. Your masterposts especially have been very informative! So basically I trust your judgement in this as someone who's been here a while and gone through it. Anyway, I completely believe in Ziam along with Larry now (been a Larrie (1)

(2) a long while) and I also believe all bbg's are fake etc. The thing I still get confused about/doubt sometimes, is the whole Harry&Louis & Zayn 'feud' thing. Most days I'm sure in my heart that all the twitter fights and post-interviews being mad at Z is all fake and part of a narrative. Zayn honestly even put lyrics to a song about a fight before actual fight for fucks sake?! Also it was all so ridiculous and public, childish, etc. it can't possibly have been real. Then his 'falling out

(3) with NB in the end. Also what ELSE (if not that 'fight') could they have been mad at him for? For 'leaving' because of his health (or whatever they said was the reason)? And after all this time still being mad/or at least bringing it up? Sounds very unlike H&L too doesn't it? Then I remember rbb/sbb, and this is something I've researched TOO MUCH honestly. Some people still refuse to even admit it was there or that it meant ANYTHING. But that goddamn yellow smiley was there several times

(4) after the 'twitter fight'. Why would that be the case? Also Ziam being together, and Louis being so close with Liam and hating on his man? It just doesn't add up anywhere. Sorry I know this is just me sounding very insecure about it all and atm I kinda am. I was having a discussion with a Larrie the other day. One of the bigger blogs with a big influence and lots of people reblogged and agreed with them, when I was trying to point out how I think 1D as a 'whole' are still being under some

(5) form of contract or image clause at the very least. They said the whole contract thing is fanfiction at this point (besides Louis essentially) and the other boys are all free to do whatever. They also don't believe in Ziam or that Zayn is friends with the boys at all. Mentioned how Harry is still 'salty' about him in interviews etc etc. They are so SURE of themselves. But yeah even though I mostly KNOW I still doubt on this because of the fucked up narratives. what if H&L / Zayn really did

(7) has been a stunt? Not saying they hang out as best friends these days maybe, what with their own lives and pandemic on top of it, but do you still think they're 'family'/ot5forever'? I honestly feel like I get gaslighted even by Larries these days and it's not much fun to follow them anymore :( Seeing Harry with Niall made me smile though! Gives me at least some hope that they still are close xx //This got very long, I'm so sorry. You can answer in tags if you wish :)

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

Number 6 never seems to have made it to my inbox.  Good job numbering them, though, because I never would have realized one was missing otherwise.

Anyway, I hate to say it, but talking to Larries is a fraught prospect.  Almost all of the people who still call themselves Larries don’t believe in Ziam and it’s because they’ve never bothered to actually look at the evidence.  They don’t treat all of the boys with the same respect or interest that they treat Harry and Louis, so any time you try to convince them of a stunt related to Liam, Zayn, or Niall, they’re likely going to make their decision based on nothing but bias and refuse to budge on it no matter how much evidence you have.  Taking their word on Louis being the only one still under contract/sabotaged when they clearly don’t pay any attention to what’s actually going on with the other boys would be foolish.  You can always try to change a Larrie’s mind and maybe there should always be people that do try, but from my perspective, it’s just a depressing and infuriating situation to put yourself in.  

At best, I would have those conversations privately, especially if the blog has a lot of influence.  A blog with a lot of influence has ulterior motives to not changing their views publicly because if they do, they may well lose followers.  You may have a chance of getting them to look at evidence if you’re talking in private though.

I know the whole 1D friendship thing is hard right now because it’s been more than 5 years since they’ve really interacted.  We’ve gotten some Niam, Nouis, and Lilo here and there, but most of that is just talk even, no pics.  Because we have no immediate evidence of their friendship in front of us, all we have to rely on is interviews which we KNOW are BS-narrative machines.  It’s hard to ignore them when it’s all we have, but we should ignore them anyway because past experience has taught us just how much interviews push stunt narratives.

I would actually say the whole Narry outing recently gives us more to believe in than anything else.  If Harry and Niall hung out completely in public and we only found out about it through a picture a week or two later that could easily have never been identified by a fan, then it’s pretty likely that all the boys have managed to hang out whenever they want without being noticed, right?  Especially if they went to each other’s houses instead of to a public hiking trail.  There’s so much going on behind the scenes that we don’t have access to or knowledge of.  Zayn could have hung out with any one of the boys at any time because we hardly know where he is.  He’s almost never even on social media, so there are huge chunks of time where he’s unaccounted for.

The hiatus is hard specifically because of a lack of new information and because the status quo (in terms of the BS narrative) has had no reason to change for a long time.  I’ve said it before, but with Zayn’s situation, the only time after hiatus started that it makes narrative and business sense to reverse the “feud” narrative is leading up to a reunion.  That means we most likely WILL NOT see any improvement until a reunion approaches and with the pandemic, that’s definitely not happening this year and probably not even next.  It sucks, but the status quo of BS being maintained is what we should expect right now and just because it IS being maintained isn’t a sign of anything having worsened.  It’s just logical.  If you want to use the hype of a reconciliation to get fans excited, to sell tickets, to earn money, etc., then you need to wait until a reunion so that you HAVE tickets to sell and money to earn.

I would say hold on to the logical conclusions you can come to from the time when we had a lot of information to go off of (the OTRA tour and just after) and try not to read into anything happening now because there’s just about NOTHING happening right now and there’s just not enough data to find patterns and draw conclusions about the reality behind the fakery. 

#one direction #bakagamieru #I hope that helps #when I say 'Larries' I don't mean everyone that believes in Larry #because I'm pretty sure most people who believe in Ziam also believe in Larry #but pretty much none of them call themselves Larries #Anonymous

[applejacks1552]

Day 7 - Theme: AU for Rogue and Gambit week 2020

(Also Day 3 - Domesticity)

Entire story can be found here:

#Rogue/Gambitweek2020 #Rogue/Remyweek2020 #Romy #Rambit #AU #Gambit #Rogue

Children of X

CHAPTER 8

The sun was seated on the horizon with morning properly underway, as the twins strategically circled Gambit out on the dusty savannah. 

Becca, crouching slightly, cocked her head at Ollie moving her eyes just so, then lifted her chin to the right, communicating her intentions silently. Ollie scrunched his nose at her suggestion, shook his head no, and nodded upward to convey another meaning. Meanwhile, Remy stood stalk still between them grinning and at the ready, a blindfold tied snugly over his eyes.

Rogue and Storm sat off several yards away, resting casually on a sizable cluster of rocks located nearby the disguised entrance to the underground lair. They looked on with mild interest as the kids' “homework” commenced. The assignment for them was simple enough - steal the blindfold. Meanwhile, Remy's job was merely to evade their attempts without leaving the circle he had outlined in the dirt.

The twins rushed him together, Becca attempting a flying grab for his head, while Ollie tried to sweep his legs. Remy dodged them both, smoothly rolling to the left as the kids nearly collided in their enthusiasm.

He laughed, “Good try. But you’ll have to do better than dat.”

As they regrouped for another attempt, Rogue was engrossed with the Wakanden tablet Storm had lent her. She inserted the drive she had smuggled back from her mission and began pouring over a schematic, delighted to find she could pull it out into a 3-dimensional model with the advanced tech.

"Your next target?" Ororo inquired looking over with curiosity.

Rogue nodded, studying the model intensely with a furrowed brow, "Yeah."

Storm inspected the diagram, "Where is this exactly?" 

"Just South of Chenjianping ..." Rogue answered. "Looks like a run o’ the mill factory, but it goes a lot deeper down. See?" She gestured.

Storm nodded her agreement. "How many bases will this have been now?"

Rogue was thoughtful, recounting their targets, "We hit the one in Nebraska first. Wasn't much there anymore really. Still abandoned since it was originally blown up. Same goes for the one in the Kerguelen Islands an' the theatre in Seattle, … then there was Paris … Anchorage … All the connections were already closed, though."

“All this searching … when will you know it is enough?” Storm asked in her straightforward, placid manner.

Rogue scowled slightly, “When he’s gone. And for good this time.”

“Still X-Men. Even after all this time. Forever fighting the hopeless cause.” Storm observed with bemusement, looking back to the training session.

Rogue frowned. “Ah don’t like it any better than you do, ‘Ro. But there isn’t a lot of choice in the matter."

“That was not meant as a criticism, Rogue. Just that … I’m sorry it has come to all this. As X-Men, sacrificing all that we have … I had always hoped it meant we could find some peace in our time and that our children might do the same. That they’d be the ones to live in the dream.” Storm reflected wistfully. “They’re getting quite good though.” she nodded, as Becca finally managed to glance a thwarted grab off Gambit’s shoulder while he was avoiding another kick from Ollie.

“Dat’s my girl.” Remy encouraged. “C’mon now, Ollie. Get in here. Not gonna let your old man win now, are ya?"

Rogue smiled, glancing over. “It’s kind of amazing watchin’ them grow. Seein’ what they can do. Ah see myself in them sometimes, 'Ro.” She sighed. “But yeah ... then I wonder … are we doing right by them? Was it wrong of us, bringing kids into all this? The X-Men? The Thieves Guild? Spendin’ their whole life in hiding because of who and what we are?”

“As I recall,” Storm smirked, “It was not exactly as though you and Remy planned this out. Fate made the decision for you.”

Rogue laughed, “Well … fate or not … can’t say Ah wasn’t a willing participant.”

Storm echoed her laugh with a heartier one.

They turned their attention back to the skirmish, where the kids were still losing.

Rogue whistled to them and when they looked her way, she made a twirling signal with her finger. They nodded understanding and paused a moment. She bent down to scoop something up.

"Hey! No help from de peanut gallery!" Remy objected in her general direction.

Rogue skipped a stone past his left foot with a sly smirk and when his head turned toward the movement and sound, the kids pounced on him, barely missing this time.

Rogue and Storm shared another good laugh.

"Jus' tryin' ta even out the playin' field, sugah." Rogue hooted at him in a sweet molasses taunt.

Remy recovered from his sharp roll away, shook his head and smiled his devious smile, muttering to himself, “Dis woman”.

"Seven years is it now? And with the very man some said could never settle down.” Storm observed. “Yet here you both are. And in all this time you’ve been almost entirely on the run too. Hasn't that been difficult?”

Rogue watched as the sparring continued, “Can’t say it’s always been easy or anywhere near perfect. We're apart so often ... too often, really. An' the times when we are together, sometimes it's just about gettin’ through it all an' surviving. And sure, once in a while Ah kinda have the urge to knock him unconscious for maybe an hour or two.” She smirked, “But …” she looked back over as Remy dodged another of the kids’ attempts with a fancy flip and devil-may-care laugh. “Yeah, Ah don’t know what Ah’d do without him.”

“I imagine Remy would echo those sentiments. Even now, the man is still showing off for you.” Storm pointed out.

“Pfffhh, he’s showing off for whoever happens to be watching him.” Rogue noted wryly.

The kids had finally gotten ahold of Remy by each arm, but they still couldn’t actually bring him down low enough to grab the blindfold. Laughing he pulled them over into a heap where the lesson quickly devolved into an all-out tickle war. Though as his blindfold finally fell loose in the scuffle, Remy's eyes caught Rogue’s for a moment and the same intensity was still there between them. The same intensity that there had been back on the beach and ever since their reunion - the building anticipation they were both trying to stave off and ignore.

“Thanks for pulling some strings with T’Challa.” Rogue mentioned refocusing and rifling through the data some more. “Hope that didn’t cause anything … awkward?”

“We have an understanding.” Storm explained serenely. “Maybe you’d call it an arrangement? At any rate, there are some loyalties that can never be completely severed. When you've been as close as we have ... that's forever, regardless the circumstances.”

Rogue wasn't sure exactly of her meaning, but she understood the sentiment at any rate and nodded.

“Just let us know when ya'll need to kick us out.” Rogue answered. "Don’t want to overstay our welcome. What IS this place, anyway?"

"A safe house, of sorts. Or a secret rendezvous spot." Storm answered with a conspiratorial grin. "Depending on your point of view, I suppose."

Remy came walking over to join them, calling over this shoulder, “Why don't ya'll go play for a bit, D’Accord? Let the grown-ups talk awhile."

The kids grumbled about how they WERE grown up, but skittered off anyway eagerly looking for bugs to catch.

"Awww, non. Don' tell me you ladies are over here talkin' shop." Remy groaned, noticing Rogue with the building mock-up projecting from the tablet in her hands.

"Hey now, Ororo is nearly as expert a thief as you are. Ah just wanted to run this by -" Rogue started as Gambit sidled up next to her, his fingers settling hungrily between her bare shoulder blades, and tapped the schematic decisively off.

"The key there bein' nearly." he teased. "Now let’s get back to dat later, eh? How 'bout I go dig out the bottle of champagne I stashed in the fridge and we celebrate this fine reunion wit' a proper toast?"

"Remy, it's barely 7 am." Storm observed in a droll tone.

"Sure, on Wakandan time. But on California time, de night is young an' it's jus' about bedtime for some kids." he smirked, his eyes catching Rogue's again with that same fiery gaze. "Meanin' we can finally relax, neh? Be right back."

He hopped up and slipped into the nearby hideout before either of the women could object further.

Rogue shrugged and grinned after him. "We can get back to it tomorrow. But Ah think we'll need a different strategy for this target. It's one the X-Men have never encountered before and bigger. Ah'd really like your input, ‘Ro. An' Ah know Remy will too."

"Judging by the size alone, a one man mission will not be sufficient. But then what of the children?" Storm looked at her friend with concern.

"Well they ain't comin' with, obviously." Rogue acknowledged. "But yeah, we'll need to make some arrangements. There's no way Ah'm lettin' Remy run this next one solo though. An' Ah know he'll try."

Gambit re-emerged, champagne and flutes in hand. He passed the delicate glasses to Rogue. She cringed as he put his freed fingers to the top of the bottle to lightly charge the cork. It shot into the air and dissolved in a buzzing fushia fizz of sparks. 

"See? I've gotten pretty good at dis." he grinned triumphantly and took a glass from Rogue who raised an amused brow at him as he poured and offered the first glass to Storm.

She raised a hand palm out. "Thank you my friend, but I will have to pass."

"Aww c'mon, padnat. Not even one? Can't hardly toast our gracious host dis way." he said, laying on as much charm as possible while he passed the glass back to Rogue instead.

"I have my reasons, Remy LeBeau. Now if you want to be a true gentleman, there's a carafe of freshly squeezed juice in the kitchen." she admonished him a little sternly.

Gambit cocked his head at her, a little taken aback, but recovered to smoothly reply with an over-the-top, "As you wish." complete with mocking bow. He took an empty glass from Rogue and handed her the bottle, shooting her a contemplative look before retreating back to the kitchen.

Rogue glanced at Storm a little uncertainly and took a sip from her glass. Strong of principle though she was, Storm wasn't one to avoid indulging in the simple pleasures of life or to let Remy irritate her.

She was formulating something to say, when Becca slipped up onto her lap wrapping her arms around her mother's neck. Rogue reflexively pulled her baby girl in closer, setting the flute of champagne aside.

"Mama, can we go flyin'?" the little girl inquired sweetly, big eyes demanding her full attention.

Rogue pressed her forehead to her daughter's, rubbing turned-up nose to turned-up nose. "Ah dunno, sugah." She sighed.

Storm laughed with amusement. "So I see Remy has passed more than one of his skills on to the next generation?"

"Ah'll say. This one gives him a run for his money."

"Pllleeeaassee???" Becca laid on thicker and sweeter and was soon joined by a, "C'mon! Can we?" plead from Ollie.

"We're still under cover here." Rogue told them very seriously. "King T'Challa is doin' us a big favor lettin' us stay. So we can't do anything that's gonna attract too much attention."

"One moment, Anna. I think I can be of assistance." Storm interceded, hers eyes clouding over to a bright white and lifting her hands skyward. A thick fog swirled up out of thin air, then spread upward and outward to encase their entire camp in a tall hollow cylinder of cloud, hiding them from view for miles.

The kids looked around with an impressed "ooooohhhh" and ""aaawwww".

"Alright." Rogue caved, grinning at Storm as Ollie hopped up into her lap also. "But after this, it's to bed with the both of ya."

She tucked a child safely under each of her strong arms and they shot off into the sky with delighted squeals and whoops.

Storm was watching them with a satisfied and wistful smile, when Remy rejoined her. He handed her the glass of juice and took a seat, looking up to observe his family and admire Storm's handiwork.

"Thanks for dat, 'Ro. An' for everythin' else. So ... How far along are you, chére?" he asked, casually pouring himself some champagne.

Storm sipped her juice and swirled the glass thoughtfully, glancing sideways at Gambit to contemplate him, then finally answered. "A few months."

" ... A celebratory toast then?" Remy raised his glass slightly, but retained a sober tone.

"Perhaps in time, Remy." she answered with measured enthusiasm.

"... an' de father?" he started, trailing off before finishing the question.

"Doesn't know yet ... because I don't know for certain yet." she calmly explained.

Remy raised an eyebrow and nodded. "An' the King?"

"I'm not going to get into that now." Storm stated matter-of-factly.

"Sorry, chére. Dat things are ... complicated. Also means ya won't be joining us on dis next mission den." Remy took another long sip.

"No, I am afraid not." Storm nodded. "Can we keep this between us?"

"Sure. If dat's what you want. But Rogue's gonna wonder. Think she was hopin’ you'd come with me or her to China." he explained.

"I would not ask you to keep my secret from your own wife, Remy. But until I can tell the father of this child, it needs to stay between the three of us at least." Storm noted.

"We understan' more than most 'bout the need for discretion." Remy observed and gave her a reassuring smile. "If there's anything we can do ta help?"

"There is not. But I'm glad you are here." Storm looked skyward. "It does me good to see what this could look like ... in time."

"Not like you don' have a choice." Remy started.

"I have considered the options, my friend." She interupted. "But with so few mutants in the world, it seems wrong to deny this one a chance."

"The X-ranks be growin’ den, though maybe not in th' way ol' Chuck used ta recruit." Remy barked an ironic laugh.

Storm shot him a raised eyebrow, as Rogue suddenly lit down in their midst with two screaming kids.

"AGAIN!" they shouted in chorus.

"Nuh-uh! Nope! Ah said one ride and then ta bed." she metted out firmly. 

"Awwww. Bed?! But the sun is out!" Olivier argued, collapsing bonelessly to the ground in protest, and Becca piled on a sassy and exasperated, "Yeah!" throwing her hands up at the bright sky.

"Don't try my patience." Rogue shot them a look. "It's nearly midnight in California. C'mon now. Tell Miss Munroe thank you and goodnight."

"Thank you, Auntie Ro." Rebecca shot glumly and Ollie added a "G'night." pulling himself up as Rogue herded them toward the hideout entrance.

Remy stood, but Rogue insisted, "Let me get them ta bed, sugah. It's been such a long time since Ah got to. "

"Sure, chére. You get them settled. Then mebbe … we should be hittin’ the hay too, yeah?" his eyes caught hers again.

She grinned and cocked her head at him. "Maybe."

Storm followed their exchange, adding, "I think I'll see if Illyana will take me back to the States with her for the day. I need to catch up with a few people. Then you all can have a quiet place to rest."

"Oh ... uh, if you want to, 'Ro. But don't go on our account." Rogue answered a little self-conscientiously, tucking a loose lock of hair behind her ear.

"Nonsense. I will return later." Storm insisted with a knowing grin.

"Alright. Well, goodnight then. And thanks." Rogue answered gratefully. She glanced from Storm back to Remy, who had both kids wrapped up in a bear hug.

“G’night, mes petits.”

They scampered into the hut and down below. He watched Rogue follow them, looking back over her shoulder at him once more as she disappeared from sight. Then he looked back to find Ororo watching him watching her.

He smirked a little self-consciously, “What?”

“Nothing … just … I’m glad for you. For both of you. Some things, at least, don't change.”

CHAPTER 9

The twins were settled in a room down at the end of a hallway off the central room, one meant for sleeping a small garrison it seemed. Several individual beds were vertically and horizontally stacked like stair-step shelves that jutted out from the walls in a mysterious fashion, independent of any supports, railings or ladders. The ceiling and walls were inlaid with tiny periwinkle bioluminescent lights that faintly alternated in patterns that resembled flowers then trees then stars. Becca, still hyper off the adrenaline rush from flying with Rogue, was already having a grand time of flipping and swinging amongst the many beds like a spider monkey. Ollie had made a solid, but somewhat more cautious climb to the top most bunk, standing there like king of the mountain and surveying his new dominion. 

Rogue ordered them both back down to Earth and set Ollie to brushing his teeth at the basin, while she lovingly unwound Becca’s plaits and brushed out her fine, soft baby hair. It was more Remy's texture than hers, thicker and straighter than her own. It still impressed her that Remy had gotten accustomed to braiding it in her absence, though undoubtedly it was no challenge for his talented fingers. There was something unspoken between them … about the things they would carry on for each other in case there ever came a day when one of them didn’t return. Rogue found herself brushing longer than she need and stopped, giving her girl a gentle squeeze of affection. She never figured she’d be good at this … want this … miss this even.

Rogue helped the kids change into their night clothes, the simple garments already seemed worn and to be getting small on them. She would need to pick them up some new clothes soon. It was on her mind more so now than when she had left for her mission - how quickly they were growing. For mutants, growing meant getting closer to the day their powers would emerge in full. And for their children in particular, getting their full powers meant bringing them closer to the day they would be lost to their destiny. Rogue shuddered and pushed the thought from her mind. They weren’t there yet. There was still time. Time to make a difference. And time yet to enjoy all these little fleeting moments.

“What book are we reading then?” she asked, seating herself on the edge of a lower bunk.

"Here, Mama." Ollie pulled a beat-up volume from his bag and handed it to Rogue, climbing into the bunk where she sat. Becca scrambled in next to him. 

"Move over!"

"I was here first!"

"Alright, alright ... no fighting or no book." Rogue threatened half-seriously.

Becca stuck her tongue out at her brother, who crossed his arms and huffed at her, but Rogue ignored them.

She turned the novel over to read the cover and chuckled to herself with a roll of her eyes, "Of course ..." then she turned to where the bookmark rested. Pulling it out, she cleared her throat and started, "Chapter 4, The Keeper of The Keys".

The twins listened with rapt interest as she described the magical giant man breaking into the isolated safe house out on a stormy sea, the way he put the human oppressors in their place, and the good news he delivered to their protagonist.

"You're a wizard, Harry." Rogue read in her best Hagrid voice and continued through the chapter as he received his letter and arguing followed and -

"Why isn't there a special school for mutants?" Becca suddenly interjected, looking at Rogue with her piercing eyes.

Olivier, though annoyed at the interruption of the story, gawked contemplatively at Rogue as well, curious for her answer.

" ... well ... there used to be ..." she started.

"But there isn't anymore?" Ollie cocked his head.

" ... sort of ... " Rogue went forward cautiously.

"You mean there IS one?!" Becca sat up with excited interest.

"No, no ... just ... there's a place that ... well, that takes care of mutant kids who don't have anyone to look after them." Rogue explained.

The twins glanced to each other and back to their Mother.

"Don't they have parents?" Ollie wondered.

"They're orphans, right?" offered Becca.

"Lots of reasons." Rogue answered calmly. "Now how about we finish-"

"Is it big? Like Hogwarts?" Becca queried on with more excitement.

Rogue grumbled to herself and massaged her forehead. "No. It's very small and very secret."

"Like Hogwarts." Ollie whispered with awe.

"It's NOT like Hogwarts." Rogue insisted. "Now do ya want ta hear the rest of this story or not?"

Ollie bit his lip, but Becca just frowned thoughtfully.

After a pause filled with silence and giving an *ahem*, Rogue began to continue on with the story again, "Why aren't you supposed to do magic-"

"But WHY is the mutant school so small?" Becca interrupted again.

Rogue sighed and put the mark back in the book, this time closing it in her lap.

Ollie whined, but Rogue reached out to touch their faces and look them in the eyes as she said gently, "Because ... there aren't a lot of us left."

"But why?" Ollie asked, his small brow now also furrowed to match his sister's.

"It's complicated, darlin'. Mostly ... it's because people didn't want to have mutants born in their families a while back and they took a medicine to stop it from happening." Rogue told them honestly.

" ... oh ..." the little boy bowed his head.

"Hey now ... see here ..." Rogue pulled her babies into her lap. "That doesn't have anything to do with us, alright? People were just scared of what they didn't understand. Maybe there aren't a lot of us anymore. But we're not alone, ok? We have each other and we have friends, people like us."

The kids nodded. They'd met a slew of fellow mutants in their many travels.

“But there aren’t any other kids.” Becca pointed out.

“Sure there are, hon. Remember Josiah? When we were on Chandilar? That place with all the tall buildings?” Rogue asked.

The twins just looked at her blankly and Rogue frowned. “Well … ah guess maybe you were too young to remember. Anyway, the point is there are plenty of other mutant kids, just like you.”

“Do they look like us?” Ollie wondered.

“No, stupid. Everybody looks different. Right, Mama?” Becca insisted triumphantly.

“Hey now, don’t be mean to your brother.” She chastised. “An’ yes, everyone looks different and has different powers. Most kids don’t even have powers ‘til they’re older. Just like we talked about.”

“Can we meet them?” Becca was intense and excited again.

“Alright, alright … time to calm down, both of ya.” Rogue shushed them. “Ah’m sure you will sometime, but Ah ain’t makin’ any promises right now. Now lie down and not another peep until Ah finish this chapter.”

[maverick-werewolf]

I've been looking into the mythology of Rougarous (creatures from Cajun and Laurentian French legend that resemble werewolves), but I can't find a whole lot of resources that can tell me about them. The best I've been able to find is that they have the head of a dog, wolf, or other animal, and that it kills and/or eats Catholics who don't obey the rules of Lent. Do you have any information on these creatures?

I certainly do! Them and the loup-garou, their predecessors. :D They’re some of my favorite legends. Get ready for a big information dump.

Before we talk about rougarous, we have to talk about loup-garou, or - basically - French werewolves. Their name means “one who turns into a wolf.”

Firstly, some media (like Blood & Chocolate, even though I will admit I rather enjoyed the movie; and Dungeons & Dragons, in which loup-garou are for some reason just werewolves except actually badass once in a while, unlike their lesser counterparts in that setting) likes to throw around the idea that there is some kind of difference between loup-garous and werewolves. There isn’t.

Loup-garous and werewolves are the same thing. Loup-garous are werewolves. Rougarous are also werewolves.

Now for some history! When the French came to the Americas, specifically to Canada, they brought their werewolf legends with them, and they became tied into the werewolf legends already there among the Native Americans. The new creature that resulted is often called the American loup-garou.

There are a few differences…

French loup-garous are some of the only werewolves in folklore that had transformations tied to the full moon.

American loup-garous, on the other hand, can transform at will, night or day. And, despite the name, sometimes they would take the form of other animals (though this was very rare, and generally they were werewolves).

Both legends state that shedding the blood (not killing; if you can actually make it bleed, which was extremely difficult) of a loup-garou will make it return to human form and lift the curse. However, the attacker is then victim of that curse for precisely 101 days.

The curse will go away on its own (after 101 days) if the person hasn’t told anyone about their encounter with a werewolf and/or that they are a werewolf themselves. But if they ever uttered a word to anyone about being a werewolf or even encountering one, they’ll bear the curse forever.

Which, honestly, is a sweet deal, because loup-garous and rougarous in werewolf form always retain full human intelligence, memory, and sense of self on top of incredible senses and physical abilities, and the ability to change at will.

Why on earth would you not want to be one? I missed that part.

So, anyway, loup-garous would often go out and get vengeance on people. This association with American loup-garous may be connected to certain Native American werewolf legends, in which werewolves were considered beings of vengeance and guardian angels who would protect the good-hearted from those who would wrong them. As you’ll see, this also holds true for rougarous!

So now we move on to rougarous…

Traveling south to the Bayou, these French-Canadians took the American loup-garou legends with them. They became again mixed with the legends already present in the area, becoming the rougarou, hunting around the swamps and woodlands of New Orleans.

The biggest difference between rougarous and American loup-garous from up north is their appearance. While American loup-garous were sometimes (but, again, rarely) other animals and transformed fully into said animal, rougarous did not.

Rougarous are always wolves, never any other animal (and never a dog), and they maintain a humanoid appearance with a wolf head.

So are you thinking what I’m thinking?

(yes I just shamelessly inserted art of my werewolf OC, Tom Drake; art credit to Julien (NSFW warning), who is so fun to work with)

Yeah. Rougarous are badass.

But wait, it gets even better.

All legends about rougarous specify just how terrifying they are. Intelligence and awareness of who they are is stressed. They are always said to be very difficult, if not impossible, to kill, and they’re some of the scariest bogeyman stories you’ll find down in that region.

Oh, and they have the vengeance thing going on too, like I mentioned.

But they’re not bad guys!

They will befriend and protect select people - usually orphans, widows, and the poor in general. Anyone rejected by society and downtrodden, but good at heart, will have the protection of a guardian angel werewolf.

If that isn’t just the coolest thing ever, I give up.

But don’t go anywhere yet, because it gets better still. How could it? Somehow, it does.

Rougarous are party animals. Ha ha. No, seriously. They are.

Rougarou balls are fires in the forest, usually in a clearing in the swamp, where werewolves are said to gather and hold big parties, dancing and howling around the fire, before they go out on a hunt.

And lastly, yes, you’re right about the religious part! They’re the only American werewolf legend with religious connotations. The rougarou supposedly does hunt down Catholics who don’t follow the rules of Lent. It also will generally hunt those who don’t obey the Ten Commandments/generally go around doing evil.

So now you know why they’re some of my favorites. :D

You’re also likely to see me turn this into a werewolf fact, since I got really enthusiastic writing this reply. Thank you for asking!

(If you like my werewolf blog, be sure to check out my other stuff!

Patreon — YouTube — Wulfgard — Werewolf Fact Masterlist — Twitter)

#asks #anonymous #werewolves #werewolf #loup garou #loupgarou #rougarou #rougarous #folklore

[specialoffre4u]

Do you shop online? Who doesn’t, right? Well, you can earn extra cash back by starting your shopping from a cash back website. You still buy the item from your preferred retailer, you just click to that store from the cash back site to earn rewards.

A cash back site is a website shopping portal (online mall) where you can earn cash back on your spending. Typical deals are anywhere from 1% to 5% cash back, with some retailers offering more than that. To earn the cash back, you must begin your online shopping by clicking to the store from the cash back website.

So how do these online malls offer this cash back? They actually get a commission on the sale of the merchant’s product. They then turn around and give you a cut of that commission.

With that in mind, here is my list of the best cashback sites:

Rakuten

 is my number one choice for getting cash back online. They have been around a long time (Since 1998. I joined in 2006.), and they offer a huge selection of stores to choose from. In my opinion, they actually have the best cash back site. The site is very user-friendly with an easy-to-understand user interface, and they are affiliated with over 2,000 online stores.

Here’s how Rakuten works:

You start by signing up with the program, either with an email address or using a social media login. From there, you’ll be able to log onto the Rakuten site where you can start your shopping at any of their affiliate stores. Alternatively, you can install an Rakuten button on your browser so you don’t have to sign into Rakuten every time you shop.

You can cash out your Rakuten cash back anytime you’ve earned $5.01 or more–but do remember that Rakuten only offers payouts every three months, with the money you earned over the previous quarter. In addition, the site offers a great blog where you can key in on some of the bigger cash back offerings.

Finally, the have a Daily Double program where you can earn 2x the points on one specific merchant. You can elect to receive your payment by check or PayPal, or you have the option of donating your cash to a charity of your choosing.

One more thing I love is that they give you $10 just for opening an account. Once you get into their program, can earn $25 on every qualified referral you make.

Rakuten: Cash Back Shopping

Get up to 40% Cash Back at over 2,500 stores. No points. No fees. No forms.

Mr. Rebates

Since 2002, Mr. Rebates has been offering shoppers cash back on their online purchases and currently boasts over 2,500 different online stores to shop from and earn cash back. To get started, you sign up for free on the site (or download the Mr. Rebates app for Apple or Android). Whenever you need to make an online purchase, start from the Mr. Rebates site or app to earn cash back on your purchase.

Once you’ve earned at least $10, you can cash out through PayPal or via paper check in the mail.

While the user interface for Mr. Rebates is not nearly as intuitive as some other cash back site, the sheer volume of available stores makes this an excellent site for earning cash back.

In addition, the Refer-a-Friend program through Mr. Rebates allows you to earn 20% of whatever cash back your friends earn–and your referral bonus does not affect their cash back in any way, so referring your friends is a win-win.

Topcashbach

Just like other popular cash back sites (we prefer Ebates), it really is a legitimate way to earn cash back that you normally wouldn’t have. You redirect through the portal to your regular online shopping site, if they’re a partner, and TopCashback will share the commissions with you.

Guess they nabbed the right name with TopCashback, putting it out there from the onset as being the best or top cash back site.  So, let’s see how they fair.

 Sign Up For Free

What’s TopCashBack All About?

It really is quite a simple process to get set up and to start earning the cash back.  You do have to spend cash though, to earn cash, but it all works out in the end, so long as you manage your spend.

The idea is to spend money on things you normally would have gone out to the stores to buy, or to move your online shopping to their preferred partners.

Step 1 – Sign Up. Join up and input all your personal info. It’s for free!

Step 2 – Browse. Start browsing their preferred partner links, where you can buy pretty much anything from accommodations to clothing, from car rentals to office space.  They really do have a wide variety, with great cash back options.

Step 3 – Shop. Then decide where you want to shop and get spending.

Step 4 – Earn Cash back. The way it works is the preferred partner or retailer with TopCashback, pays them commission, and they in turn, pay you the commission in the form of cash back.  It’s a win-win for everyone involved.

Other Benefits And Features

TopCashback Coupon Codes. TopCashback has gone out and sourced the coolest coupons from most of the top merchants.  This way, when you buy on their site, you simply pop the coupon code in and earn cash back and save at the same time.

Payout Bonus. TopCashback wants you to cash in on your cash back, so they have provided 3 ways you can do this, and on Amazon.com you will earn 3% extra of your cash back on top too. These payout options are:

Amazon.com

ACH (Automated Clearing House)

PayPal

Mobile. If you’re on the go mostly, download their mobile app and purchase no matter where you are in the world.  Some cool features on the app are:

Snap and Save

In-store vouchers

Access to your account instantly

Groceries offers – by snapping a photo of your till slip and earning cash back

How Can You Get Free Stuff?

Amazingly, you actually can get free stuff via TopCashback.  You, essentially, get paid to shop.  Now, doesn’t that sound awesome?  If you hit the timing right, you can get 100% cash back on your spend, which boils down to free stuff.

How Do You Withdraw Funds?

After all, this is what you want to be able to do, after a nice accrual of cash back.  It is quite simple.

Log in

Click Account at the top of the page

Click Payout

You would have to set up your account or card details beforehand, when signing up, and the cash back will be paid into that captured account when you click on the Payout button.

If you have chosen to have your cash paid out into one of the preferred other payout options, as mentioned above, then you may receive a bonus.  Amazon’s is around 2.5%, but sometimes 5% is an option.

Note that the payout delay time can be up to 14 days.  So, if you were planning on using that money for something urgent, plan it out in advance rather.  And, if you are earning loads of cash back, then plan a rolling payout ( i.e. every 2 weeks, so that you are assured of money hitting your account regularly).

$10 Referral Bonuses

By referring friends and family, you will be awarded by TopCashback. To receive your Tell-a-Friend bonus, the person you have referred must sign up to TopCashback from your link and earn $10 payable cashback or more

" I've been using Topcashback for over 4 years now and made over £1100 in paid cashback which is unbelievable since I use it for purchases I would have made anyway. The best earners for me have been cashback on switching mobile SIM-only contracts, gas/electricity suppliers and my home broadband packages. Some of the cashback offers are sky-high :-) last year I switched to BT broadband and received £125 cashback for that alone!

I used a link on a forum when I joined, but if you use my link below to sign up to Topcashback then once you've earned £10 payable cashback you'll receive £5 for free! (I'll also receive a small amount too)"

[booksbroadwaybbc]

I've downgraded myself from "severely unmotivated" to "totally unmotivated" via /r/selfimprovement

I've downgraded myself from "severely unmotivated" to "totally unmotivated"

Greetings once again selfimprovement! This is my third post on this sub. In my first post from the beginning of this year, I wrote that I felt that I'd failed at life and asked for advice on how to turn things around for the better. The second post dealt with the fact that I was (and still am, I'll get to that later) extremely unmotivated since it had been glossed over in the first post. I received lots of great advice on both posts so thanks to everyone that commented. I'll provide some relevant bits from both posts here, with a couple additional notes in brackets:

I'm a 24M and I'm still living at home with my parents. ...Also, I've never held a regular paying job in my life. In addition, but probably less important, I've also never had an SO in my life, and I've never been a "friends person". To top it all off, I'm also severely unmotivated.

I should probably mention at this point that I have autism, but you wouldn't be able to tell unless I told you.

...even if I did go to college, my parents would insist on moving there with me and check on me every day. One of the elements of college is to get the experience of living away from home, and how could I possibly get that when my parents would want to move there with me? ... So, going to that broadcasting program seemed like a good choice to me.

I started there in February 2014 and finished a year later. While at the school I met lots of nice people and got lots of hands-on experience in both TV and radio broadcasting.

The school I went to has career counseling services, so I felt I had a shot at a radio career. Unfortunately, the career counseling department only has connections in the state where it is located. About a month after I graduated from the school in April 2015, me and my family moved to where we live now, which is far away from the state we used to live in. Therefore, the career counselor couldn't help me much. In nearly three years of searching I have found no entry level broadcasting jobs in my area.

...after no broadcasting jobs were to be found anywhere, I made the decision that my pursuit of a radio career was not working out. I then decided I needed to pursue a different career. I thought engineering or IT would be good. But I realized that you probably need to go to college to have any chance of landing a job in either field, and since I'm still paying off the student loans from the media school I went to, going into even more debt didn't [and still doesn't] seem like a good idea. [Also, I'm 24 and most people have already graduated college and started a career already by then so it's probably too late for me]

When the calendar flipped to 2018, things really started going downhill emotionally for me. This year will be the 5th anniversary of my graduation from high school, and if they decided to have a reunion I would probably find a way to go. For that reason, I decided to check on my high school friends on Facebook to see how they'd turned out. And boy, was I in for a massive wake up call. ... It hit me like a ton of bricks. Just imagining having to go the class reunion, stare them all in the face, and telling them that I'm doing nothing was too much for me to bear. Lately, I've been crying myself to sleep pretty much every night, knowing that the people I graduated high school with have careers and lives of their own and I haven't even started mine yet. [Not so much anymore but it still happens sometimes]

I feel that all that I wrote about above is all my fault. I should have gone to college. I shouldn't have tried to take a shortcut. And now, I'm paying for that decision every day. I'm doomed to live like this for the rest of my life unless something changes fast.

I hate living like this, and I want out.

And from the second post:

...one problem that didn't seem to get addressed, perhaps because I glossed it over, is that I am severely unmotivated to change my situation.

No matter how hard I look, there's nothing in my life that would suggest that I need to move out.

However, I'm posting this to let you all know that my situation has not changed all that much in the intervening months. The only thing that has changed is that I'm now working on getting my driver's license, which I should get this summer.

Now to the problem in the title. I sort of lied when I said that there was "nothing in my life that would suggest that I need to move out" in my last post. There was indeed something that suggested I should move out, but now that something is gone.

Up to about a couple of months ago, I assumed that my parents were bothered by my living with them. I had confirmation in the form of a statement that my dad had made to me that he and mom should be empty nesters and that they'd been cheated. So that was my bit of motivation to take steps to move out of the house.

However, that got taken away when me and my parents got into a heated argument, mostly about my apparent lack of life skills. During that argument, my mom said that they actually do not mind me being in the house. With that, that bit of reason to move out went away.

Since then, I've been trying to find something, anything, in my life that will light a fire under me to move out but I've found absolutely nothing. There's just no motivation to be found anywhere. So therefore, I've now downgraded myself to "totally unmotivated".

Someone, please help me.

Submitted June 12, 2018 at 10:57AM by ThumbOfTheMitten via reddit https://ift.tt/2JuQhBn

#IFTTT #reddit