#please bring gambit back.............

[x-mensirens]

"Some things be deeper than skin, chére."

#Gambit #Rogue #Remy LeBeau #Anna Marie D'Canto #X-Men '97 #X-Men 97 #X-Men #marvel #gifs #gifset #mine #PAIN #why #just get married #nightcrawler will officiate it #please bring gambit back.............

[ghost-duck0]

X-Men 97: okay guys here’s episode 5 of the show, it is one of the best things that has come out of Marvel in years. It’s fun, drama filled, and ends with the heroic death of Gambit.

Fans: Holy shit, that was crazy, but Gambits going to come back though right?

X-Men 97: we wants Gambits death to be impactful and have repercussions throughout the series!

Fans: but Gambits going to come back though right?

X-Men 97:…LOOK WE HAVE NIGHTCRAWLER!

Fans: cool awesome love Nightcrawler, BUT GAMBITS GOING TO COME BACK RIGHT?!?

#x men 97 #gambit #marvel #marvel I beg of you bring him back #I know you want death to have real meaning and consequences but gives the guy more than five episodes please #I will cry for the rest of my life please #don’t underestimate me

[unlikelywrestlingfan]

normally I would scream and ask why are you doing this but I'm so exhausted today that I will just say thank you XD he's so pretty and helps distract me from the ick today <3

#can he bring the red back in his gear please it looks so good AND it's my favorite color #the second pic is just so #and the third one i feel like it says alot about me as an ace ace fan that my fave parts are the batman popsocket and the hair XD #ijustthinkevilunoisneat #gambit #asks #elle is being attacked

[artist-emerald]

Trolls Band Together: The Branch Ending

(As many might know now, the original draft ending of the movie was supposed to have Branch captured and thus nearly die as Floyd did in the final cut. I decided I'd write out my interpretation on how that would have played out)

Poppy's heart was racing, her mind rushing with thoughts she didn't want to think about. In an attempt to get his brothers to safety, Branch was captured, and Velvet didn't look like she was giving him up any time soon. Everything was going so well. Brozone was all back together again. Poppy was reunited with her long lost sister. They were all supposed to make it back home all happy and hugging and singing.

Why was this happening?

Velvet and Veneer's performance was starting. Panic started to set in, but they weren't about to give up. Branch's brothers and Viva all kept reassuring Poppy that they'd make it and get Branch out of there safe and sound. Their words put her at ease, if only for a moment.

They chased after the phony pop-stars as they sang their songs of lies. The group bobbed and weaved through the Mount Rageous traffic. Dodging the vehicles by the follicles of their hairs, the got close to Velvet and Veneer's luxury vehicle, only for them to slip away again. Branch continued to get worse as his essence kept getting drained.

Bridget and Gristle emerged from the traffic to assist and get them to the yacht in the river. Velvet got ready for an encore, but Branch didn't look like he was going to make it. Velvet noticed the Trolls approaching her, and in a final gambit, she began spraying all of Branch's remaining talent into her. A desperate attempt to try and permanently get the talent.

Branch began to sing to his family, and they sang back as the made their way to stop Velvet and save Branch. As the perfect harmony was hit, the diamond prison shattered, blowing Velvet back. Poppy dove to catch her boyfriend, but he didn't move, nor made a sound.

She sat there, holding Branch in her arms. His hair snow white, and his body clear like a crystal. "Branch?" Poppy whispered, "It's me...it's us! We did it, we hit the perfect harmony! We got you out, you...you can wake up now! Y-you're safe now."

Branch's brothers had gathered around them, all pleading and apologizing. Not just in hopes to bring him back, but because of the guilt and regret for leaving him. Viva stood behind Clay and Poppy, placing both of her hands on their shoulders.

Tears began to slowly fall from her eyes. "Please Branch. I love you. I need you. We have so many more adventures to go on."

The Mount Rageons looked on in shock and awe as they witnessed this on the giant screens. Poppy began to sob as she held Branch closer, rocking him back and forth. She sobbed harder than she's ever remembered. Then, she felt it, a feeling she hasn't felt in a long while. Her colors began to fade. Just as they were about to fade past her hands, she felt something move on top of them.

"Now don't you dare," Branch said weekly, "I worked hard to get those colors of yours back." Branch started to come back, his body filling out, and his hair returning to normal. Poppy lit up as her tears changed from sadness to overwhelming joy. She squeezed her love and riddled his face with soft kisses. Branch's brothers hoisted him up in a group hug in celebration as Poppy and Viva stepped back to let them have their brotherly moment, before joining back in with more hugs.

The crowd cheered, Velvet and Veneer were taken away to prison, and the Trolls made their way back home.

All as a family, in harmony.

#trolls #dreamworks trolls #broppy #trolls band together #alternate ending #trolls poppy #trolls branch #branch x poppy #poppy x branch #writing

[neuroticbookworm]

Parenting in Step by Step, a defense

I saw a bunch of posts about how Pat is immature and has poor communication skills, and citing his parents' divorce as one of the potential reasons.

*baffled* W H A T.

I don't have the time or energy to rant about the "poor communication skills" read, so all I'm gonna say is that Pat was busy holding his mushed up braincells together for the majority of this episode and direct your attention to @shortpplfedup's crisp and hilarious Ten Movements that perfectly summed up Pat's emotional journey. Cut him some slack, for fuck's sake.

Now, onto Pat's parents and their relationship with him and each other. I want to highlight the writing and dialogue in their scenes, because it hurts my heart to see not a lot of people talking about them.

When we first meet them, both Pat's Mom and Dad express concern about his eating habits, but the parent-child dynamics in these conversations were very different. Pat's mom says it's not good for him to eat ramen for breakfast, but she quickly accepts Pat's excuse and goes back to doting on him. When she brings up Jeng, and Pat complains that she is nagging and changes the subject, she lets him.

When Dad comes into town a few *undisclosed unit of time* later, he basically asks the same question as Mom, but this time, Pat is a little elaborate with his excuse explanation.

But Dad doesn't let him get away with his bullshit. He offers up a few solutions and wants to work on them with Pat.

After he's sure that Pat knows the need to change his food habits, he then adds levity to the conversation, and goofs around with his son. (I will forever adore the Asian Gordon Ramsey moment, more father-son wholesomeness in Asian media, please and thank you)

(did y'all notice how both Pat's Mom and Dad call him adorable with very different energies? did ya? okay, good)

Now, when the time came for Pat to let go of all his frustrations and break down in front of his parents, I was worried that the show would lean a bit too hard on the parental roles, the good cop/bad cop gambit. But no, it surprised me. It sure started out that way, with Pat offering up an empty excuse to Mom's question.

Which is immediately followed by this look:

(more on this later, I have SO MANY THOUGHTS about this)

When Dad follows up with this statement, Pat's defenses begin to crumble.

He opens up about how he feels overwhelmed and disconnected with himself, and Dad responds with this:

He brings the realities of adulthood to the forefront, reassuring him that he has also been there before and that Pat will learn to manage it. Still in line with the roles the show had previously drawn up for them. When Pat continues, Mom moves to Pat's side as soon as they realise that Pat's problems include heartbreak ("Everywhere I go, it's filled with memories") and she hits him with this:

Oooooof. That's a hell of a line. Accurate? yes. Comforting? Fuck no.

That's when Dad moves to Pat's side, and tries to soothe him. The roles are flipped.

Pat then says that maybe it would've been better, if they had stayed with him all the time. Now, this can mean two different things: I wish I didn't grow up so I could've stayed with you and life would've been so much simpler; I wish you guys did not get divorced and we could've all stayed together. Mom chooses to address the first part. She says that even if they stayed together, no one could stay with him all the time.

Dad, then acknowledges the separation and they tell him, TOGETHER, that they will always be his parents, and they never stopped loving him. And that they don't hate each other.

The TEAMWORK here, between Pat's mom and dad is executed SO WELL. They love their son, and want to comfort and reassure him, and they do it together. They don't do the "one of us do the talking and the other one hmms in the background" bullshit. They both understand his pain and give him their individual and collective opinions. They are in sync with each other's thoughts, and it shows. Remember the look between them at the beginning of this scene?

This speaks VOLUMES. They know something is weighing on him and they can't let him excuse his way out of this conversation. They look at each other, a non-verbal "let's do this", and start talking to Pat.

Being in love with each other and being good parents are not strictly inclusive. The show did not leave this unsaid, either. They show us, how two people can move on and still remain in each others' lives as someone to lean on. Someone who will always know you better than most people in this world.

How some people saw this amazing back-and-forth and thought "yeah, they're incompatible, and they traumatized their son, and he now has communication issues", I'll never understand.

TL;DR:

Stop demonizing divorce and calling it the root of all childhood trauma

SBS writers are doing some things EXCEPTIONALLY WELL, and they deserve credit for it

#step by step #step by step the series #pat phakphum #jeng kittiphong #jengpat

[kakavasha-of-nihility]

We shall meet again, under Kakava's shimmering auroras...

"Do stay alive"? Mmm... well, who am I to even dare defying the doctor's orders~?

Kakavasha had been fated to die, ever since he was born on the day of one of the very sparse rains in Sigonia-IV. Blessed with Gaiathra's rain, a lucky child, they said-- and in the end, it was luck of the double-edged sword.

Aventurine, the Stoneheart of Stratagems, had indeed been lucky enough to still be standing after all that he'd been through-- but why has he lived time and time again? Should he not be grateful? And yet he found he never was; for Kakavasha wished to die. Why should he live only to endure more suffering when he could finally find eternal peace?

And when that fated day finally came-- his grand bet, his all in, his final gambit, the most wondrous of performances-- he found himself here.

Not alive, yet not dead, having long since parted with his past self, standing alone in a void of Nihility clutching only the scroll Dr. Veritas Ratio had given him. That Galaxy Ranger had told him that this fated incident was not his end-- that he would live to bet even higher than before. A saving grace, truly-- an angel in the skin of an Emanator.

Maybe this darkness was beautiful, he thought. The stars twinkling in the dark almost reminded him of home; a dimly sparkling reminder that he would see the dawn after all, that there would finally be light waiting for him.

And so he waited, preparing for the day of his rebirth. He would chase his dawn in the form of the golden and crimson-hued irises of the man who has always had his heart, take back his name and avenge the legacy of all Avgins, and see to the destruction of the IPC once and for all.

Notes from the moderator:

~ Mod also runs the @aventurine-official rp account, so the format is her own and is not plagiarized :)

This Aventurine is canon divergent, simply an idea of what happens to him if and when he survives the Nihility void :)

My Aven takes back his true name and turns to the path of Nihility, and finds his way out in about a year or so after his disappearance. He's finally free from the IPC as they believe him to be dead and Jade has taken his place as the Stoneheart of Preservation, and his goal is to bring the IPC's shady secrets to light and bring the whole organization crashing down.

He still fights with his dice and poker chips, although losing the ability to shield because of his path diversion and instead casting ace cards onto enemies.

(I might add more details later, or link a headcanon post!)

Guidelines:

~ Keep the asks sfw if you please, suggestive is okay!

~ No random links in asks unless they are links to other Tumblr posts (if they are there, please specify what they are)

~ Be kind, please. Any hateful comments related but not limited to racism, sexism, homophobia, ableism, ageism and transphobia will not be tolerated here and you may be blocked.

~ All ships (age-appropriate) are welcome. (I personally believe Aventurine is gay as hell, so he will have a noticeable interest in men versus women).

~ Try to avoid sending DMs to the mod unless you are another mod

~ Anons are more than welcome here! You may have a personalized tag and everything :)

List of current anon signoffs here

Key (if applicable):

" " : for dialogue

* * : for movements

( ) : ooc

Tags:

#ace of spades ♠️ : Art reblogs

#roll the dice 🎲 : Random thoughts and calm moments

#trump card 🃏 : Asks from anons and others

#want to make a bet? 🪙 : Interactions with Honkai Star Rail blogs

#queen of clubs ♣️ : Interactions with / mentions of Acheron

#ace of hearts ❤️ : Interactions with / mentions of Dr. Ratio

#angel boy 🪶 : Interactions with / mentions of Sunday

Masterlist post of Honkai Star Rail-official blogs linked here

#intro post #pinned post #aventurine #aventurine hsr #kakavasha hsr #kakavasha #2.1 spoilers #hsr oc #hsr #honkai star rail #hsr rp #honkai star rail rp

[denny-artsss]

I would like to give a fanfic suggestion, if you haven't already, Gangle arriving at the circus for the first time and I heard that was Jax who suggested Gangle's name.

Imma turn it into a scenario cause I'm already working on fanfic

*Gangle arrives at the circus, having a full-blown panic attack and grabbing the first person she sees by the shoulders and shakes them agresivly, that person is Jax*

Jax: *grabs her hands startled and pins them down* SLOW DOWN I DONT UNDERSTAND A WORD YOURE SAYING!

Gangle: *Complete gibberish while panicking and asking for an exit*

Caine: WOW! A NEW MEMBER TO ADD TO OUR CAST OF AMAZING PERFORMERS!

Gangle: m-member?... Performers?

Jax: yep, welcome to hell ribbons.

Gangle: ribbons? Why are you calling me that?

Jax: *shoves her in front of a mirror as she falls with a thud and looks up at it*

Gangle: *histerical screaming*

Jax: Caine, does he have a off button?

Gangle: *looks at him offended* IM A WOMAN-

Jax: Well, how am I supposed to know.

Caine: she does not have an off button, Jax! But she surely needs a name- Let's see... *thinks*

Jax: *chuckles and runs his hand through her ribbons* Gangle

Caine: GANGLE IT IS!

Gangle: do I have no saying in this?- *slaps Jax's hand off her*

Caine: NO YOU DO NOT! *throws confetti in the air* Now, Jax, how about you show your new friend here her new room, and her new friends!!!

Jax: *sighs* fine. That clown over there is Kaufmo.

*kaufmo waves and smiles*

Jax: Those two are queenie and her gambit. And that loser over there is Ragatha. She is currently freaking out over the centipede I said I threw in her hair.

Ragatha: TAKE IT OUT TAKE IT OUT!

Jax: *laughs to himself and whispers to Gangle* There's no centipede.

Gangle: ah huh- um... lovley- now... maybe show me the- um the-

Jax: exit? There is none. Let's go to your stupid room. *grabs her hand and drags her along*

*they both walk in the hallway*

Gangle: um- I'm sorry- why are all those pictures crossed?

Jax: *smirks* they messed with me, and I executed them.

Gangle: *starts shaking* Okay, then.

Jax: *kicks her door open* ta-da! Your very own room in this insane asylum! My my, aren't you a lucky lady.

Gangle: Your irony is not helping my mental breakdown-

Jax: it's helping make it worse! *pats her back*

Gangle: *sits on her bed and zones out*

Jax: *jumps in her bed, sending her flying on the floor*

Gangle: *stands up and looks at him annoyed* your name is Jax right?... man... you must've picked that awful name for me because someone picked this awful name for you... poor thing...

Jax: *eyes widen* I choose my own name- You don't like the name I gave you?

Gangle: i mean- it is kinda mocking but- I guess it could be worse-

Jax: *laughs* if there was something worse, your name wouldn't be Gangle.

Gangle: can you please leave my room? I have a busy schedule of crying in my pillow- once I figure out how to cry.

Jax: hm... *brings his face close to hers and squints his eyes, rubbing his finger on the side of her face*

Gangle: *nervously looks at him confused* what are you doi-

Jax: Aha! *grabs her mask and pulls it off* there. Now, you can let it all out. You'll have a lot to leave out anyway. *throws the mask on her desk as it breaks*

Gangle: *looks at the broken comedy mask in horror*

Jax: well... you have fun with your...um... crying. I'll go get something to eat. I'm starving. Cya later buh byee *pats her head and exits the room, leaving her in the dark*

#the amazing digital circus #gangle #tadc #jax #ribbun #jax x gangle #ragatha tadc #tadc kinger #caine tadc #tadc queenie #tadc kaufmo

[nighthaunting]

You ever have a moment where you reconsider something you thought a lot about in the past but then sort of turned your attention away from for a while, and your new perspective just blows the whole thing open?

Me thinking about russ and magnus during ATS/PB today after years of taking a break from HH/40K lore yielded one such series of revelations.

I was thinking about Betrayer and Russ' attempt to give Angron a lesson via the Night of the Wolf. I was thinking about Prospero Burns and Russ' belief that he's had a direct line to Magnus this whole time via Kaspar. I was thinking about that 'please'. And.

I know this is pretty much canon to the text but I've never before really Considered that one of Russ' motives in keeping this guy alive and sending him out on compliances with his Legion was (Russ believed at least) letting Magnus see the SW in action and hoping that this might influence him into trying to Avoid doing anything that might cause Russ to be sent after him.

In the past I've talked a lot about the SW keeping Kaspar around to see what would happen in terms of thinking the TS were up to something or going to do something to the Legion, which is very much the assumption the Chaos entity wanted them to make, but looking back I tbh think i slept on the concept of Russ, who canonically has taken out at least one of the Lost Primarchs in an event which is prefers not to speak (or at least the codex Strongly Implies that Russ has been used against another primarch before), and who also canonically went into the Night of the Wolf fully willing to die to make his point to Angron if only Angron could understand what he was doing.

I'm sort of compelled by the concept because in a sense Russ was letting (what he thought was) Magnus take a peek behind the barbarian mask he likes to put on, to see into a more genuine heart of his legion, letting his guard down a bit by allowing this obviously-compromised spy in. Much the same way he let the mask drop when he went to try and talk some sense into Angron, bringing up philosophy and reading and ideals that Russ' ignorant-but-noble barbarian persona would never admit to being interested in let alone reading.

And both times the gambit failed, in Magnus' case because it wasn't Magnus on the other end of the line, and in Angron's case because he was too far gone to really get what Russ was illustrating for him.

The whole thing was orchestrated so well, ironically giving the "proof" that Magnus was up to something via this sleeper agent spy that the SW were toting around with them, playing on Russ being curious enough to keep this guy around and connect the dots on the (false) links between this guy and the TS. I have this headcanon that Russ and Lorgar were actually fairly close, with Russ actually talking to Lorgar about Lorgar's writings, because he didn't seem surprised that Russ had read them and had thoughts on them in Betrayer, so I actually sort of like the idea that he had a hand in setting up the fall of Prospero? I like the tragedy of the idea that he at least had some input on the idea, being familiar enough with Russ to know he'd take the bait.

Which would make that a third time Russ got genuine with someone and had it either fail or be used against him...

#i'm sorry i love to torment him #russ' whole deal is that he's trapped in the mask he constructed for himself #and yet also unwilling to unmask himself and be genuine until its too late #he desperately doesn't want to kill another brother so he keeps trying to engineer shit to steer them away from situations #where he'd have to kill them #unfortunately that being the Only time he's genuine means it never fucking works #russ being Canonically Dionysian coded in the Apollonian-Dionysian duality truly coming back to bite him in the ass every time #sorry buddy but you're 'futility of fighting fate' chaotic unjust nature coded and all your angst about the role you were created to play #is entirely apt but also completely a self-fulfilling prophesy in terms of your ability to forge the relationships that would have saved yo #something something and this is why valdor tops but that's a whoooooole other essay #leman russ #warhammer 40k #russ’ hug brigade

[inkyleaf]

TG 210: Goblin Gambit (M-Humans to F-Goblins)

Note: The following story depicts a budding incestuous relationship.

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

“Ready to finally get out of this dreadful town?” a young man named Arthur asked his brother Theodoric as he tightened his boots. “Ready as I’ll ever be,” Theo replied with a sigh, then continued: “You’re sure about this? Leaving mother and father to tend to the house and farm until this expedition is over and through?” Arthur laughed, scratching his short dirty blond beard. “You know they’ll be fine, brother! Besides, do you really want to stay cooped up in this tiny village when so much of the world is out there – unknown, and waiting to be discovered? And who’s to say we don’t encounter riches for the whole family along the way, aye?”

Ever since Arthur was a little boy, he’d always dreamt of exploring the world, as he’d grown up in a small medieval village known for its agriculture. His brother Theo was timid by comparison, but was always levelheaded and kept his brother out of trouble. Although Theo was hesitant about leaving his aging parents, he wanted to accompany Arthur on his journey to ensure that he stayed safe. Perhaps Arthur’s extravagant optimism and excitement was rubbing off a bit, too.

The brothers set off by horseback after hugging their parents goodbye, promising to return better than they left. Looking up from his map, Arthur loudly declared: “We’ll arrive at Feyhelm before the sun sets! Think of how good the ale will taste at the tavern, brother! This is only the beginning!” “I’ll hold you to that!” Theo said back with a grin as they both urged their horses to gallop faster. Without any words, the gallops quickly turned into a race that left a trail of dust in their wake.

Arthur arrived at the distant town of Feyhelm a good while before Theo caught up just as the sun was setting. Recognizing Arthur’s horse tied to post at the tavern, Theo followed suit and found his brother laughing and drunk with a group of strangers huddled over a pair of dice. Just as Theo was about to approach the tapster, he heard Arthur’s voice turn from jovial to rage. “Yeeeww fockin’ cheat’r! ‘Ere’s no way yewcud’ve nicked thrice inarow!” he slurred with a red face. Theo jumped in before things could escalate further: “Good sirs, this is my brother. I apologize for any trouble he may have caused. You see, we’re travelers new to this town!” One of the strangers, a strong man with long, messy hair, facial scars, and a jarringly fake tooth, pulled Theo in close by his collar and said with a wolfish grin: “Your brother owes me money,” then pushed him away.

“Please excuse us for a moment,” Theo grunted as he forcibly dragged his brother out of the tavern. He noticed a few other men guarding their horses. “What the hell did you do?!” Theo asked Arthur in a sharp whisper. “Aye…thought I could get us rich,” he replied slowly. “Odds were in my favor ‘n everyfin’! Itwas-n’t a bad idea…” After chatting with Arthur for the next half-hour as he sobered up, the brothers returned to the tavern to pay up. “You owe how much?!” Theo exclaimed. Arthur hung his head as the burly man said it again: “320 pence.” The brothers were diligent in bringing a lot of money for their journey ahead, but neither of them carried that much individually, forcing them to pool their coins together. “Pleasure gamblin’ with ya, boys.”

Leading their horses by the reigns, Arthur and Theo walked around town to find the inn in silence. Arthur knew he had messed up, and Theo was rightfully upset. The next morning, they got into an argument. Theo exclaimed: “Let’s cut our losses and go home! We can save up again to try this next year or something, but you’ve shattered our chances at survival on day one!” “Next year?! You hardly even wanted to explore this year! How much more time of your life will you throw away? How many more excuses will you make for staying put? Brother, we are fine! We still have some money.” Theo had always been proud of his ability to keep in brother in check, but it seemed like there was no convincing him this time. Arthur was determined to forge ahead despite only having enough money for the bare essentials that wouldn’t even last a week. During the argument, Arthur spat: “If you want to go back to mum and dad, then go! I’m not going to stop you!” “And leave you to die in some unknown cave?” Theo mumbled back, knowing that he couldn’t leave his brother in good conscience.

The brothers set off to the next closest town of Alryne after a light breakfast, expecting to arrive before sunset. The cheerful atmosphere of adventuring that Theo felt yesterday had been replaced with anxiety. Arthur put on a good face, trying to convince his brother that they would find some kind of riches along the way, or even women, but even his optimism was slightly faltering. Wanting to manifest his beliefs, Arthur insisted on a detour since he knew they had time to spare before arriving at Alryne. He dragged his increasingly pessimistic brother along for hours before finding an old, crumbling tower in the middle of a forest.

“Ah-ha!” Arthur exclaimed, “I knew there were treasures to be had! Look, brother! Think of all the ancient riches that could be hiding away in this building! This is what I’ve been talking about! There’s so much to find and explore!” Theo managed to crack a smile, praying that his brother was correct. The pair walked through the doorway that had already been broken into, finding nothing but an empty room with a staircase spiraling upwards. “The riches must be up there,” Arthur said with a wide grin. Upon arriving at the upper levels, Theo’s hopes were dashed. Every room was filled with desks, shelves, and other hidden compartments – all picked clean like a meatless skeleton.

Theo tried to contain his frustration as they walked back down the stairs, but his brother’s delusions were now made clear, and he had to let it out. “There’s nothing here! Nothing!” Theo yelled, stomping his foot to the floor. “Do you see now, brother! Your ideas of the grand adventurer are fantasy! Any riches that may have been waiting for us are already long gone!” Theo stomped the floor again, causing it noticeably buckle. Arthur admittedly felt embarrassed, but the shift in the floor reignited his hope.

“Wait, brother, do that again,” Arthur said, stomping the wooden floor beneath him to no avail. “I’ll damn well stomp as many times as I need to to get this through your head!” Theo replied with more stomps, making a seam between two parts of the floor clear to Arthur. “That could be… Brother, help me lift this!” Arthur shooed Theo away from his spot and looked for a good way to grip the slightly displaced flooring. The piece was larger than he would’ve thought, as it extended all the way to the wall a few meters away. “This is bloody heavy!” Arthur huffed through clenched teeth, unable to get a good grip until Theo pitched in. With a lot of effort, the brothers managed to overturn the large floorboard with a thud that shook the room, revealing another staircase into the underground.

“This is it! This must be where the treasures are!” Arthur exclaimed, skipping down the stairs. Theo followed with a furrowed brow, then eased up at the sight of the room downstairs. There were tables and shelves lined with old vials and equipment he’d never seen before. He plugged his nose at the stench of dried-up plants, dead rats, and other ingredients that surrounded a lot of the equipment, but was nevertheless excited for Arthur to have discovered this room.

Arthur came up to Theo with a bunch of glass and metal instruments in his arms. “How much do you think these will go for?” he asked giddily, then continued: “This place hasn’t been touched in years, or maybe even longer… And we’re the first to discover its history!!” “It’ll be hard to make back 320 pence with some rusty metal,” Theo smirked, then continued to look around. He noticed a large green stone on a pedestal at the back of the room, protected by a glass covering. As he drew closer, he could see a slight glow. “Hmm, now a rare mineral may actually fetch a good price,” Theo mumbled to himself while his brother gathered more things like a kid in a candy store. He hauled the heavy stone to the center of the room, then called Arthur for help.

“I think that if we can break into this stone,” Theo began, “we can figure out what kind of minerals are inside.” “So we just gotta break it, yeah?” Arthur replied. “Yes, well, carefully. I think. I’m no expert, but doesn’t this look like it’d be worth more than most other things in here? If we took it to an appraiser, they may charge extra to get to the minerals in the first place…I think. And it’s already cracked quite a bit, see here and there?” Theo pointed at the lines.

Arthur dropped his haul to examine the rock himself. “Minerals…like diamonds? Oh yes brother, this has to be it! We’ve struck gold on day two!” After a little more discussion, the brothers held the rock together and dropped it onto the floor with a loud thump. They repeated the process multiple times, increasingly chipping away at the rock’s exterior. “C’mon, show us the insides!” Arthur cheered, eventually taking the rock himself to slam on the floor. After a few slams, the rock burst like a bomb, releasing green haze and knocking the brothers onto the floor where they fell unconscious for an hour.

As Theo awakened, he slowly recalled what they were doing prior. “The…rock…the rock! Argh! What happened to that blasted thing? Did it really…explode?” he said to himself, scrambling back to the location of its impact. He found pieces of the rock, but it had lost its subtle glow, and there were no traces of valuable minerals inside. Theo sighed as Arthur awoke. “Theodoric, are you okay?” was the first thing Arthur asked, thinking of his brother before himself despite his pounding head. “I am. I think the rock may have burst, but it should be okay. The minerals must be deeper in. At this point, it’s probably wiser to take to an appraiser so that we don’t risk further damages.” “Atta boy!” Arthur exclaimed, slapping his brother’s shoulder.

The brothers were relieved to still see that the sun hadn’t set yet. As they emerged from the tower with loads of supplies, their horses looked at them with pause. “What’s that look about, Thor? It’s me!” Arthur said, securing his load to the side of his horse. “They probably don’t want to carry this much on top of your fat arse,” Theo laughed as he secured a lighter bag, then continued: “We should be reaching Alryne in a few hours. We’ll be traveling slower than expected and lost a lot of time, so it’ll likely be after sunset, but we should be fine. Tomorrow’s priority is finding an appraiser.”

Arthur and Theo set off and talked cheerfully for a good while, but Arthur grew quieter as time passed which was unlike him. Eventually, he let Theo take the lead and voluntarily trailed behind, not wanting to speak or be seen. I’m beginning to feel ill, he thought, but we’re almost to Alryne, and Theodoric is in good spirits. I probably just need a hot bath… Due to his lack of energy, Arthur was leaned in close to his horse’s mane and did not notice how the hair on his sweaty skin was beginning to fall out, including the short beard he wore with pride.

Around the same time, Theo also began to feel unwell, but wanted to press on strong as the rider in front, knowing that their daylight was limited. Similar to his brother, his skin became lined with sweat, and his body hair began falling out. He lightly flexed his fingers, toes, and jaw with repeated movements, feeling as if his bones were growing stiffer by the minute. “G-Gaahh,” he would mutter to himself as bones would shift and grind against one another, primarily around his joints, shoulder, and pelvis. He frequently stretched his arms and legs while still riding to alleviate the odd sensations, hoping that his brother wasn’t judging him from behind.

By the end of the hour, both brothers were fidgeting uncomfortably within their clothes. Both of their feet had shrunk, making it difficult to keep their boots on, and their shirts and pants were noticeably baggier. Gritting his teeth, Theo sat as tall as he could while periodically looking back to ensure that his brother was still following – he was too far behind to see clearly, but the silhouette of his horse was visible enough. Frustrated by his longer sleeves, he rolled them up and noticed that his forearms had become slimmer along with his fingers and hands. The sun sets soon, we have to make it… That is the priority right now, he thought, shaking his head.

Arthur wasn’t taking his illness as well as Theo. He was barely holding himself upright, enduring the plight of his changing skeleton as best he could. “Still a few more hours,” he mumbled under his breath just as he felt something different from within his body. His body leaned even more forward as he felt the small of back arch inward. “Hn-hnngghh-!” His grunts came through clenched teeth as his legs tightly held the sides of his horse. What started as soft fat filling out his shrunken thighs soon turned into an abundance of volume. Alongside a broadening pelvis, his lower body grew and morphed with large feminine proportions that threatened to tear his once-loose pants.

Arthur’s groaning grew louder, but Theo couldn’t hear him over their horses’ clops or over his own muttering. He tried to giddy his horse to go faster once he realized that his fingernails were elongating and darkening, but his horse remained at a slow pace, feeling Theo grow heavier before Theo himself noticed. As his upper arms became fuller with soft feminine fat, a faint crack emitted from within his chest. His breathing was heavy, and every step his horse took was met with a little bounce in his chest that grew more uncomfortable every minute. Veins pressed against his skin, and his nipples hardened, as his pecs swelled over the course of the next hour, eventually splitting into two distinct mounds.

Theodoric was periodically shocked into silence as he felt his chest grow and could simply not focus on anything else once the orbs of flesh became large enough to sag and flail around from riding on horseback. His skinny body continued to thicken beneath his chest with plump thighs that filled out his pants – although not nearly as much as Arthur’s – and a softer, less defined stomach that was accented with a pinched waist.

Unable to bear the afflictions any longer, Arthur stopped on the side of the road as the sun had almost set while Theodoric continued forward, oblivious to what was happening behind him. Arthur angrily threw some of his clothes off, almost ripping them beyond wearability in the process, to alleviate some of his cold sweat. “What is this…?” he spat when he felt longer and sharper nails poke into his body in the process. “My legs!” Arthur yelled after wriggling out of his pants, laying his eyes on two hairless thighs that were thicker than thick. He fell onto his weak knees, feeling his arms and face begin to twitch from some force within. He clutched the side of his face with one hand, feeling his jaw reshaping within his palm, while the other cupped his slimy shrinking genitals.

“No…! No!” Arthur could feel his manhood slipping away from his hand, diverting his attention from his changing skull. His stern nose flattened above a mouth that was growing sharper and more jagged teeth, and his bushy dirty blond eyebrows slimmed and darkened while his short hair began growing. Arthur noticed his voice changing as he mumbled to himself with fear and panic, but paid it no mind as he spread his legs further, trying to stop his dick and balls from retracting further. He also failed to notice his large biceps diminish after a crack in his shoulder blades shook his upper body, feminizing his whole upper frame with increasingly smoother skin.

After the sun had gone down, Theodoric also needed to stop at the side of the road. Looking back for the first time in a while, he wondered where Arthur was. Instead of worrying about him, he was relieved that his brother wouldn’t see him in this state for the moment. Theo’s calm and collected demeanor crumbled after painfully throwing his shirt and coat off. The ridiculously large breasts that hung from his body made him scream in terror and fall back onto his ass. A few pops emitted from within his pants as his slender legs continued to shrink and develop into limbs that would contribute to a shapely figure.

Through heavy breaths, Theo examined his bare arms and hands after getting a grip, noticing that they looked nothing like his own. They were weak, dainty, and even within the darkness, Theo could tell that their color was off. He fell all the way onto his back as sensations similar to Arthur’s crept into his face and neck. Is this where I die…? he thought as his rigid and baggy eyes were forcibly closed. He could feel every little shift of bone and muscle in his face as it reshaped beyond recognizability, but was numb to his hair darkening and growing down to shoulder length. The tips of his ears also grew to a long point, almost poking out like horns. He clutched his pounding head with one strong hand and yelled at the top of his lungs, his voice completely changing in the process.

Neither brother moved for a long awhile as the pains of their transformations faded away. They caught their breaths and attempted to assess what had happened in their own ways. They could barely see themselves in the pitch-black night, but felt their new flesh, proportions, and feminine assets with horror and uncertainty. Only the raw need for warmth and shelter was able to move them once a few too many breezes swept by. Unfortunately, both of their horses – who had excellent night vision – bolted at the sight and smell of them in fear, leaving them stranded in the woods near the path to Alryne.

“Theo!” “Arthur!” The brothers called out to each other as they hobbled in the directions they thought they were in. Both of them were equally disgusted at the sound of their distinctly husky and womanly voices. To their relief, they managed to find each other by the sounds of their names after some time, although they were hesitant to approach.

“Arthur, are you over there?” Theo called. He knew Arthur wouldn’t be able to see him, but he felt utterly helpless and embarrassed in his foreign body draped by clothes that were now far ill-fitting. “Theo, it’s me!” Arthur called back, “I’m walking in your direction…!” Arthur had similar reluctancies, but was more relieved to know his brother was alive. Arthur’s hair had grown long enough to tickle the small of his back as he awkwardly moved with his large swinging hips.

“I’m right in front of you, Arthur.” “I’m here, I’m here…is that really you, Theo?” Unable to see clearly, the pair slowly approached for an embrace, but the feeling of Theo’s massive bust pushing against Arthur’s modest breasts made them flinch and walk back. “I don’t…” Theo began. The pair muttered aimless thoughts to each other for a while, wondering what had happened to them and if they were going to be okay. As the night progressed and as they continued their small talk, the needs for sleep and warmth quickly approached. The brothers ended up huddling together on the ground within the forest, feeling each other’s smooth skin and shapely figures with tired mumbles and silent chuckles.

Once the sun rose, the sound of Arthur’s screaming at Theo woke him up, who then screamed equally loud at the sight of his brother. Both of them stood around 1.5 meters tall and were completely unrecognizable through their female faces, both of which were slightly tinted pale green with long ears, pointed teeth, and vaguely yellow eyes. From last night’s experience, they knew that their bodies carried feminine proportions, but seeing them in the flesh felt surreal, especially when Arthur’s ass and Theo’s tits were far larger than the other’s. Contrary to their lighter hair, they both now wore long and slightly wavy black hair at different lengths.

“Brother…” “Are we…” “We’re women?” “We’re…we look like goblins,” the pair spun their thoughts around in awe, unsure of what to say or do about any of this. After a long pause, Theo said: “Well, we could walk to Alryne from here before sunset, but-” “We have to find a way to fix this!” Arthur interrupted, “I cannot live as-as a creature! Look at us!” “Brother, c-calm down,” Theo said, “perhaps we can find someone in Alryne who knows about…but would we even be able to approach the town? What if we’re cast away as monsters? I’ve heard tales of woodland creatures before, but I didn’t think they’d exist-“ “What choices do we have, brother?!” Arthur yelled. “We have to get to Alryne and fix this, now!”

As the pair walked down the muddy path, struggling to keep their shoes on every few steps, Theo was quickly getting used to the weight of his new stride, while Arthur continued to complain about his appearance, his weight, and the loss of his manhood. “Like, it’s really just gone!” he would constantly state, feeling himself again as if it would come back at any moment. “I know, brother, I know.” Theo didn’t know how to calm him down or how to reassure him that everything would be okay this time, which began to upset him.

A guardsman approached the brothers when they were close to Alryne after several long hours of walking. Although he wanted to fend them off, the fact that they were wearing clothing and could speak coherently swayed the guard to let them in. Theo asked if any other creatures had come through Alryne and told the guard about their condition, hoping to find anyone who could offer a cure. To the brothers’ surprise, the guard stated that goblins did pass through town on rare occasions to drink and peddle wares, but were also under close supervision – the brothers were warned that any signs of aggression would result in death.

“So goblins are real,” Theo said to himself with a chuckle, “And they speak and drink like us. Isn’t that wild? I suppose you were right, brother. There really is a lot to discover in this world.” While Theo was becoming more and more fascinated, Arthur was scouring the town for the pub – not for a coveted drink, but for information from tapster. When Theo suggested that they purchase fitting clothing, Arthur stated that it would be a waste of money since they would surely be cured soon. The tapster led the brothers to both a practical doctor and a shaman. The doctor offered no help; only a perverted fascination in their bodies. As they recounted their tale to the shaman, the shaman theorized that the explosive green stone may have cursed them, which set Arthur’s next goal – finding their horses who carried all of their loot from the day prior.

Theo naturally agreed to help his brother, but only after the pair purchased small feminine cottes and shoes to wear, expending most of their little remaining money. Holding his breasts in both hands through the clothes, Theo said: “This certainly feels much better, doesn’t it, brother?” Arthur sighed and replied: “Yeah. I guess so. Let’s get moving, I don’t want to spend another night in this…this skin.” Despite their best efforts, the horses weren’t able to be found, and the sunset forced them to return to Alryne for food and shelter. Pinching pennies, they rented a single bed room.

The brothers found it difficult to sleep that night, especially with their large assets constantly pressing against the other while they tossed and turned. They tried sleeping on the floor, but didn’t have enough blankets or pillows to fend off the cold from the floorboards, making the bed their only option. Due to his smaller bust and longer hair, Arthur ended up being the bigger spoon to his brother despite being the same height. Throughout the night, his little hands intentionally and unintentionally held and brushed against Theo’s large breasts, giving him some sense of comfort and normalcy. Theo didn’t respond or swat Arthur’s hand away; rather, he reluctantly enjoyed it. His breathing became intermittently heavy, and unfamiliar sensations fermented between his legs.

The next day, Arthur continued to search for the horses while Theo remained in town desperately searching for work. He ended up selling a few strands of his hair to curious researchers and posed nude for hours for an artist who was eager to capture his first willing non-human subject. That evening, Arthur returned to town in an expectedly sour mood from being empty-handed, and even the news of Theo’s newly earned money did little to cheer him up. The pair ate a hearty dinner with ale at the tavern that night.

As the pair got into bed, Theo insisted on being the big spoon despite how uncomfortable his breasts were pressing into Arthur’s back. After a moment of silence, Theo spoke softly: “You know, maybe these forms aren’t as awful as you’re making them out to be.” Theo’s left hand glided down Arthur’s curves. “Of course they are,” Arthur pouted, “I am not a woman, I am not a-a creature… I’m supposed to be a m-maa-aan-” Arthur began to stutter as Theo’s hand slipped between his large thighs. “You needn’t be so rigid all the time, brother,” Theo practically whispered. “Maybe we’ll be cured one day, but if we are to remain like this for the rest of our lives, well…” “We can’t!” Arthur shouted, “How are we supposed to return to our family like this?! It’s unthinkable!” After another pause, Theo brought his hand up to Arthur’s breasts. “That’s something we can figure out in the future. But we must live in the present right now.”

Arthur and Theo continued lodging in Alryne for the week, taking on odd jobs around the large town while continuing to search for their lost horses and loot, losing hope that they’d find either. As they became more involved in town, they faced racism and sexism to extents they couldn’t have foreseen. Theo was adept at brushing it off most of the time, but passing comments continued to make Arthur angrier and more insecure about his body, leading him to be even more reliant on Theo to cheer him up. Although they never looked directly at each other as they slept together, they continued to lightly poke and fondle each other’s bodies. They knew it was wrong, but their soft skin and ample feminine assets brought a form of comfort that couldn’t be describe in words, especially when pressed up close in a single bed.

One night, as Theo was playing with Arthur’s long hair in bed, he said: “Why haven’t you cut your hair?” He wanted to address him as ‘brother’ or ‘Arthur’ as he usually did, but stopped himself that night; it just didn’t feel right anymore. Then, he continued: “This is awfully long for someone who wants to cling to their masculinity.” A moment of silence passed. Theo wanted it to come off as playful teasing, but was worried that he may have gone too far. The truth was that the thought simply never occurred to Arthur over everything else they’d been dealing with, but he thought of another reason that felt appropriate to say through a cracked voice: “It’s for you.” “For me?” Theo replied, dumbfounded. Arthur continued after clearing his throat: “Yes, well…I was under the impression that you enjoyed it, and you’ve done so much for me…throughout my whole life, but especially throughout the past couple weeks. Sometimes I feel like a burden. I always wanted to be the one to be relied on, and yet it seems like I’ve been relying on you for longer than I can remember. You’re always so…calm, so leveled. Sometimes I try to imitate it, but I just can’t. And now, even when your body is lost to the Devil, you carry on. You keep us safe and fed. And all I can do is try and catch up.”

Theo sniffed, feeling a tear well in his eye. He didn’t know how to reply, as such a heartfelt sentiment from Arthur was incredibly rare. With a trembling voice, Theo whispered as he caressed Arthur: “Oh Ansee…” After a pause, Arthur chuckled. “Ansee? What’s that?” Theo couldn’t help but giggle too. “Ansee is, well, it’s an elvish name. I’ve been trying to study the language of…goblins. Although the dialect between elves, goblins, and orcs are all very similar, I’m not too good at discerning specifics just yet.” “Oh so now you believe in orcs?” Arthur laughed. Theo replied with a smirk: “Could mistake you for one in the dark, you little scamp,” then gave Arthur’s ass a hard smack.

It took a few days for Ansee to get used to her new name. In turn, she decided to rename Theodoric to Thraba over a fresh meal and ale at the tavern. “To living in the present,” Ansee smiled, raising a glass with her sister. By now, both women had gotten used to presenting as the exotic females that they were around town and were eagerly making connections with townsfolk throughout their odd jobs, even though Ansee could still get moody about herself from time to time. Thraba had been looking into jewelry, only holding herself back due to the uncertainty of tomorrow’s funds, and Ansee had been taking even better care of her long lustrous hair, always wearing it down with pride.

On that same night, when Thraba had left to use the outhouse toilet, a group of men approached Ansee and demanded sexual favors, insisting that this was the luckiest day of her life while also ragging on her appearance. Ansee breathed and remained calm at first, but then several men got physical. Ansee called for help, but her sister was out of earshot. With her ass and breasts being groped and her limbs being constrained, she howled more fiercely than she knew she was capable of. The moment of the shock that the men experienced gave Ansee the chance to free one arm long enough to slash at the face of a man with her sharp nails.

Pandemonium broke out in the tavern. “Guards! Call the guards!” “This creature attacked us!” “It’s gone mad!” It took a lot of effort for Ansee to hold herself back from pursuing the other men. Once Thraba heard people screaming and running outside, she bolted back into the tavern and saw her sister’s bloody hand. There was no time for words, Thraba simply held the door open for Ansee to approach, then they ran as far away from the building as they could.

Once they found a quiet place, Ansee’s guilt came pouring out. “I-I didn’t mean to, I didn’t…want to, they just came out of nowhere and-” “It’s okay,” Thraba interrupted, “I know you wouldn’t do such a thing if you didn’t have to.” Thraba held her sister’s shoulder with one hand, and slowly brought her other to Ansee’s face as they gazes met. Just as their eyelids were fluttering, they heard a guard shout: “Monster spotted on Crescent Road! Seize them!” The sisters started running again, then a guard blindsided Ansee with a buckler from a hidden alley, knocking her to the ground.

Thraba snarled at the guard. For once, she didn’t think, she simply acted by tackling the guard to the ground before disfiguring his face with her nails. “Let’s go!” Ansee called, snapping Thraba out of her rage. The guards stopped chasing them once they had escaped the town’s borders. The sisters ran for miles before running out of breath and collapsing onto the ground. After a few long minutes, Ansee crawled onto her sister as she had nearly regained her composure by looking up at the stars.

Looking into each other’s eyes again, the sisters made a few quiet hums before Ansee closed her eyes and gave Thraba a passionate lip-locking kiss. They held each other tight and felt each other up and down. Ansee nibbled on her sister’s long ears while Thraba bounced Ansee’s hefty ass, soon moving in to subdue her with unbridled feminine joy, her fingers in between her legs. Throughout the starry night, they locked legs and rubbed cunts, licked and squeezed voluptuous breasts, and stuck their tongues wherever a wet opening would accept.

After a long night filled with more climaxes than either of them could remember, Ansee and Thraba awoke in the early afternoon, slowly recalling everything that had happened. They looked at each other and giggled like little girls, almost wanting to start again until they felt their stomachs rumble. Thraba pulled a map out of her cotte’s pouch, barely legible through all of its creases and folds. “The next town, Wimborne, isn’t too far off. We should be able to make it by foot before the day ends,” she said.

The sisters chatted about anything and everything as they walked under the beaming sun. Eventually, Ansee brought up what they had done last night, causing both of them to stop walking. Thraba approached her and held her shoulder. “This is who we are now, Ansee. Living in the present, remember? That doesn’t just mean living with these bodies, it means living with everything that makes us, us. And, well… I don’t care if it’s wrong. I liked it. And if you like it, we can keep doing it.” Ansee blushed as her sister pulled her in closer, squeaking out an embarrassed “Thank you.” After a pause, Thraba closed her eyes and went in for a quiet kiss, then said “We might not actually make it to Windborne by tonight…but I trust that you’ll keep me warm?” Ansee snorted as she giggled, brushing her hair back. “Of course, uhm, b-baby… Of course.”

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A Patreon reward for Aezneth, thanks so much!! :D This medieval story features two brothers who set off on an adventure, running into some unexpected event that changes their lives forever. It also brings them closer together in ways they couldn't have foreseen...

This story was patron-exclusive for 28 days, and another new patron-exclusive caption has gone live - a classic M2F + Race Change caption.

If you enjoyed this story, check out another medieval-fantasy tale I spun over the course of a year, my longest story to date!

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#m2f #racechange #transformation #magic #fantasy creature #story #medieval/in the past

[minisugakoobies]

Covert Affairs | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: smut, angst, enemies to lovers, Spies!AU

Rating: M (18+)

Warnings: drinking, bantering, a little dirty dancing - tango style, a very charming Jungkook in a tux, kissing, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it up), fighting (hand to hand), weapons - guns, mentions of blood and bruises, allusions to torture (interrogation), mentions of war

Word Count: 4.3k

Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own BTS - they just inspire me

Summary: The five times you cross paths with legendary spy Jeon Jungkook.

A/N: This is for the anon who sent me a request for Spy!JK vs Spy!Reader - I tried to keep this to a drabble, but, well, it had a mind of its own. 🤷‍♀️ I hope you enjoy!

Thank you to @minttangerines @herecomesjoon and @reliablemitten for helping me with this one! 💜

The vibe here was inspired in part by "The Bagman's Gambit" by the Decemberists. This ending is unlike most that I've written before. I would love to hear what you think about it! 🥺👉👈 Please don't be shy, my inbox is always open. 💕

Masterlist 💜 Find me on AO3 💜

The first time you meet him, it’s by accident. 

You’re late to arrive at the dead drop. It’s not your fault - there’s a crash on the Tower Bridge and your taxi is trapped behind it. By the time traffic starts moving again and you make it to the library, locating the flash drive your handler left behind, you learn that your target is likely already on the move, and you rush back to your hotel room to change.  

It’s another honeypot scenario. The woman you need to seduce is a scientist who holds a lot of secrets, state and otherwise, that your country desperately desires. She tends to frequent a pub a few blocks from your hotel at the same time every week. She never leaves alone. You pour yourself into a tight little dress, tuck your handgun into your clutch, and make your way downtown, heels clacking on the pavement at a determined pace. 

You’ve done a dozen of these missions. It’s rote by now. Locate the target. Hook them with your attention, your flirtatious words, a few light touches. Convince them to leave with you. Back in your hotel room, offer them a drink laced with a special ingredient, one meant to loosen their lips, and get them talking. And once you’ve obtained the info you need, leave them there, to wake up alone, confused and with one hell of a hangover. 

Couldn’t be easier. 

Except tonight, thanks to the accident, you discover that your mission might be a little more difficult, because your target is deep in conversation with the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. 

He’s tall, dark, and handsome, that classic trifecta. Brown eyes shimmer brightly as he gazes at your target, brushing a swoop of jet-black hair off his forehead. His pretty pink lips part as he smiles, revealing slightly large front teeth. One hand clutches a tumbler of some amber liquor while the other is slowly skimming the scientist’s forearm where it rests on the bar. From the flush that graces her cheeks, you know she’s enjoying the man’s company. 

That’s fine. You like a challenge. 

Sidling up to the bar, you position yourself across from the two of them, with the man’s back to you. The bartender greets you and you strike up a conversation. You’re sure to laugh a little louder than you typically would, to gesture a little more freely, to do anything you can to catch the target’s eye. Thankfully, the bartender is into you, returning to chat between serving others, and it’s not long before your laughter turns her head.

Using your peripheral vision, you see the target glance your way a few times before you finally look at her. Tilting your head, you hold her gaze for a moment, then lift your whiskey in her direction before taking a sip. A drop of liquid beads down your chin, and you wipe it away with your thumb before bringing it to your mouth and sucking it into your parted lips, all while never breaking eye contact. 

Overkill, perhaps, but it works. 

The target leans over to the handsome man and says something in his ear, then slides off her barstool. She’s already tipsy, bumping into another patron as she makes her way over to you. You gesture to an empty seat beside you and fall easily into a mindless back-and-forth with her. A little banter, a few brushes of your fingertips against her skin, and a couple more cocktails seal the deal. She’s yours. 

The handsome man has been watching the two of you since she left his side. You’re accustomed to the gaze of others when you’re working a honeypot. Usually, it’s a look of jealousy. Often tinged with lust. Tonight, you see both in his intense stare, but there’s something else there. Something that feels different about the way he observes you. It’s not until you’re guiding the target out of the bar and you pass by the man, getting a closer look at his face, that you realize why. 

It’s him. The Mole. 

So named not because he’s a sleeper agent, but because of the identifying mark on his face, nestled right below his lower lip. He’s a legend in the world of espionage, known for his supposedly astonishing abilities. Practically a myth, said to be able to dodge any enemies, infiltrate any organization, and capture any target. 

Well. Not this time. You lead the scientist down a labyrinthine route to your hotel, ducking down alleys and doubling back a few times. She’s too drunk to notice you’re walking in circles. A quick glance at your reflection in a storefront window shows you that he’s just a step behind, so you take the target by the hand and dash across the street, ignoring the swearing of the drivers as they slam on their brakes. 

On and on, he tails the two of you until you’re finally able to lose him by ducking into a restaurant. The scientist merely laughs at an irate chef as he hustles the two of you out of his kitchen and through the back door. You’re glad she’s enjoying herself. It’s not until you’re locking your hotel room door that you relax your grip on the handle of your gun.

In the early hours of the morning, just as the sun breaks over the city, you’re on your way to the airport. The information you obtained is already on its way to those in charge, already helping your country to assert its power. The taxi comes to a stop at an intersection, and when you glance at the traffic passing by, you think you catch a swoop of hair blowing in the breeze as a motorcyclist zips by, but you blink and he vanishes.  

The second time you meet him, it’s a trap. 

The museum gala is in full swing as you enter. The gown your handler sent you for the occasion fits like a dream, hugging your every curve, a daringly long slit up one leg giving all the other attendees a glimpse at the silky skin underneath. Grabbing a flute of champagne from a passing server, you stand at the top of the stairs and survey the room. 

Tonight’s mission is to intercept an official who is planning to defect. The informant who tipped you off doesn’t know who they’ve been in contact with, only that they’re very disgruntled with your government and ready to blow. You are to stop them before they meet with their liaison and spill any of your government’s precious secrets, and get them to reveal their connection so the rest of your team can apprehend them. Your handler’s voice crackles in your earpiece, alerting you that the target is currently spinning around the makeshift dance floor, so you quickly toss back your drink and descend. 

The night sky shines through the glass ceiling in the atrium as the couples on the dance floor sway. There’s a string quartet providing the music tonight, and as you weave your way around, the band strikes up a tango. The voice in your ear commands you to look to your left, and you spot the target with his arms wrapped around some poor young thing whom you vaguely recognize from social media. A hotel heiress, perhaps? Doesn’t matter who they are, you just need to cut in, but as you step towards them, your path is suddenly blocked by a handsome man in a tuxedo. 

“There you are, darling! I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” his smooth voice purrs. It’s been a few years, but you recognize him immediately, glancing at the tiny mole beneath his mouth as he grins. His dark hair is slicked back, but there’s that swoop again, cascading into his warm eyes. “Come on, let’s give everyone a show.” His right arm is around your waist before you can react, left hand taking yours. And he steers you away from the target as he leads you into the tango. 

“I’m sorry, I think you must have me confused with someone else,” you declare, trying to pull away, but he swiftly tugs on your arm, spinning you back into his embrace. 

“Oh, now, don’t play shy! I know it’s been a while since London, but I remember you. Probably better than our mutual friend does,” he smirks. 

“London? Now I know you have me mistaken.” 

He doesn’t respond, placing a hand on the back of your neck and guiding you down into a low dip. You move instinctually, following his lead without hesitation. He’s light on his feet, dancing like he breathes, naturally, an innate rhythm flowing through him. 

You’re practically horizontal at this point as he eases you down, then he snaps you back into his arms. You let out a tiny huff of surprise as his mouth connects with your ear. “I couldn’t be more sure. You’re unforgettable.” His hand cradles your back as he pushes you forward, stepping in time to the lively beat. 

The voice in your ear goes haywire. Your dance partner is obviously the target’s contact. And he’s trying to distract you. But as your handler insists that you make a hasty retreat, it occurs to you that as long as he’s distracting you, he can’t abscond with the target himself. 

So you tango.

Lifting your leg, you hook it around his, and slide down his tall frame, dragging your hand slowly down his chest. His eyes lock on yours as you sink lower, and there’s a brief flash of something in his expression that sparks a heat inside you. As you rise, he clutches your thigh tightly, rough hand gripping the soft skin exposed there, and shuffles backwards, taking you with him.

“I knew I’d find you here,” he says, as you lean against his chest, letting him carry you across the dance floor. 

“Is that so?” With a coy smile, you slide around him, running your hand across his shoulders. “I guess you’ve got me all figured out.” 

“I do.” His gaze is earnest, eyes so wide you could almost believe none of this is an act. 

The target still has that young socialite in his clutches. You catch a glimpse of him over the handsome man’s shoulder before he spins you around, wrapping an arm around your waist to hold you flush to his chest. He nudges your arm up and runs his hands down the silk of your bodice as you close your eyes, only for the briefest of moments. 

“Then tell me. Tell me about myself.” 

He twists, bringing you chest to chest again. The two of you part the crush of revelers easily, drunken donors happily ceding command of the dance floor. 

“You’re someone who is clearly devoted to their cause, which is why you’re here tonight.”

“Yes, supporting the arts is very important to me.”

“Mmm. I’m sure.” He pauses, lost in thought. “You enjoy a challenge.” 

You nod. “Never back down from one.” 

“God, I hope not.” His tongue pokes the inside of his cheek as he studies your face. “I’d say you’re pretty used to getting your way.”

“Am I that obvious?” He tries to steer you to the left, but you simply throw your weight to the right and he is forced to go along with your momentum or topple over. He lets you take the lead with a loud laugh.

“Just a little, darling.” You wonder how many targets he’s seduced with that smile. It’s very charming. Undoubtedly effective.

“And just how do you know all of these things are true?”

He shrugs. “I can just tell. I have good instincts, and I trust them.” He cocks his head. “Don’t you?”

You merely hum.

“You really impressed me in London, you know. No one’s ever given me the slip like that.”

“That’s rather surprising, given how easy it was,” you inform him, lips curling into an arrogant smile. If he’s not going to pretend, neither are you. 

He laughs again, and your smile broadens at the high-pitched giggle that tumbles from his lips. “I see. Well, wear that badge with honor anyway, because it will never happen again. I’ve got my eyes on you now.” His gaze roams over your body, the mirth on his face replaced by a hunger so intense your breath stutters. 

This time, when he spins you away, he releases his grip on your hand, and the voice in your ear yells that now is your chance to slip away, that the two of you are being watched by unknowns, and they’re closing in. The handsome man’s team, most likely. The trap has been sprung. 

Instead, you return to his waiting arms. 

“You can watch all you want, darling,” you whisper, nose nearly touching his as he holds you close. “I don’t mind. I’ll still win in the end.”

“And why is that?” he murmurs, peering at you through half-lidded eyes.

“Because,” you lift your chin, lips brushing his ear as you raise your hand behind his back, throwing a signal towards the camera on the ceiling, “it doesn’t matter if you find me, you’ll still have to catch me first.” 

The klaxons of the fire alarm suddenly blare to life, bright lights flashing as frightened screams erupt. His head snaps up in shock, and you immediately twist away, slipping behind him and kicking the side of his knee hard. He goes down, only for a moment, but it's long enough for you to dash away. Finding the target, you shout a lie about the contact sending you to meet him instead, and lead him away from the crowds surging towards the exits, heading instead for the backup plan rendezvous point. 

You try to fight the temptation to turn around, but as you reach the edge of the atrium, you glance over your shoulder. The swoop of hair bobs in the crush of bodies swarming to escape to safety. And then it’s pulled under. 

The third time you meet him, it’s a close call. 

“Attrape-la!” 

The shouting of the bodyguards behind you startles you into action. You smash through the crowds of ravers letting loose under the flashing strobe lights, leaving a wave of bruised bodies and cursing clubbers in your wake. 

Of course you’d been made. You should’ve expected that to happen, given that everything else tonight had gone so smoothly. Too smoothly. The painstaking lengths your country went through to orchestrate tonight’s little agent provocateur scheme paid off. Honestly, it hadn’t taken much to tempt the Prime Minister’s black sheep scion down into the catacombs below the city, promising him all the lurid delights his wicked little heart could desire.

And how he indulged in all of those delights, as you watched, the golden heart-shaped pendant dangling around your neck capturing every image. You were too far underground to transmit the photos via satellite; once you returned to the safe house, you would upload everything from the tiny chip safely ensconced within the necklace.

So the scion basked in his decadence and you snapped every second and it was all going perfectly to plan, until one of the young man’s bodyguards recognized you from a previous encounter, from back when he was in the army and not in the employ of the world’s most spoiled libertine, and you ran. Through the partygoers, down the antechamber, back into the tunnels. 

The catacombs are a complex maze beneath the sprawling capital. You hadn’t had long to prepare for this mission, meaning you’d given the map your handler provided only a quick glance. You now regret this lack of foresight.

Voices echo off the walls around you. You dart down another tunnel, barely gaining some distance from your pursuers, and that’s when you realize you’re lost. For all you know, you’ve already been down this passage before - they all look the same in the dim light of the electric torches. There’s no time to think, you have to keep moving - 

An arm shoots out of the darkness and grabs you. 

“No!” you shout, reeling back to punch your attacker, when he drags you into the light of another tunnel, and you stop in surprise. 

“Caught you,” the handsome man whispers, and then he presses you into the cool stone wall behind you, his body against yours, and tips your head up with a finger under your chin. “I win.” 

And then he kisses you. 

He inhales your gasp, fingers stroking your cheek. Your mind goes blank for a moment, only registering the taste of his lips. The warmth of his skin. Then your training kicks back in, and you open your eyes, watching him closely as he licks into your mouth. His eyes are shut, lashes fluttering as he moans when you curl your fingers into his leather jacket, urging him closer.

The tunnel rings with shouting and heavy footsteps as your pursuers approach. He slides his hands around your back, holding you tightly, and you close your eyes as his kisses grow more heated. The clamor of your would-be captors fades into the background until it vanishes completely. 

His nails rake the back of your neck as his other hand slips around your thigh. You wrap your leg around him, and the movement reminds you of your tango, and the way his eyes shone brighter than the starry sky. 

“I think they’re gone,” you whisper as his lips trail down your throat.

“Who’s gone?” he murmurs, taking a tiny nibble.

You push him away, maybe too gently, and he grins. 

“Thank you,” you mutter, and start to run, but he grabs you by the wrist. 

“Not that way!” He tugs you down another tunnel behind him. 

You dig your heels in, bringing him to a halt. “Why should I trust you?” 

His smile is all you can see as he disappears into the shadows, pulling you in. “Why would I let someone else have the pleasure of catching you?” 

It’s not until you make it back to the safe house, lips swollen, skin covered in marks, that you realize your necklace is gone. 

The fourth time you meet him, it’s the beginning of the end. 

The turbulent rivalry between your countries is a tsunami now, threatening to drown you in the tides of war. You’ve been racing through the city, chasing rumors and hunting red herrings as the fighting makes its way to your shores. Finally, after nearly twenty-four straight hours of running, an informant reveals the location you’ve been trying frantically to find.

From the outside, in the reddish light of the emerging dawn, the building looks like nothing more than a rundown old gas station, pumps out front long overgrown with weeds. But the door hidden beneath the counter is rather unusual, as is the long corridor below that leads you to a single room. The men standing guard outside it are no station attendants. These men have been specially trained to keep people like you out of places like this. 

They must need more training, given how easily they go down. It won’t be long before the next shift change, so you’ll need to be fast. But you still take a moment to compose yourself before turning the doorknob. Bracing yourself. You’re not sure what you’ve been looking for will be inside or not. 

As the door swings open, your heart sinks. The informant was right. This is the place. And there he is, slumped over on his knees, head hanging low, chained to a metal post. A dark bruise stains his left cheekbone, and there’s a cut dripping blood from his chin, but you’d recognize that swoop of hair in your sleep.

He doesn’t move as you close the door quietly behind you. But he startles when you suddenly dash across the room and drop to your knees beside him, eyes widening when you rip off the balaclava you wear. “You!” 

“Me!” you confirm, flashing him a weak smile. Your fellow agents clearly didn’t hold back, if the wounds on his face are anything to go by. Maybe you should’ve kept the mask on, if only to hide your reaction from him. There’s no other need to hide your face with the guards unconscious. There are no cameras down here, in this room that officially does not exist. 

“What are you doing?” You’re unchaining him, but that’s not what he’s asking. 

Helping him stand, you softly brush some dirt from his unharmed cheek. “Trusting my instincts. Come on.” 

Neither of the men have moved from where you left them lying. As quickly as you can, you escape from the nameless room, sprinting down the hallway and up into the gas station and not stopping until you reach a recently abandoned motel on the edge of town. The owners were so anxious to flee the encroaching battle that the linens are still on the bed when the two of you break into a room. 

“We should be okay here,” you announce as he stumbles into the bathroom to inspect the damage the agents inflicted. Standing by the door, you triple check the locks before leaning against it. “You can rest for a little bit, but you should leave as soon as dusk hits. It’s safest to cross the border at night.”

He wanders back into the room with a towel in hand, lightly dabbing his chin. “That eager to be rid of me?” 

Yes and no. If you stop to think about his question, you might start thinking about what you’ve just done and what your country will do to you if you get caught. You have to keep moving, keep that adrenaline flowing. Keep running.

Like right now. You should run straight out that door and not look back. But you don’t. Instead, you shake your head.

He says nothing as he walks over to you. With a gentle hand, he tilts your head back to meet his gaze. Beams of sunlight streaming between the cracks in the blinds reflect in his wide eyes, make you see stars. 

His lips are softer than you remember, belying the urgency in his kiss, the sharpness of it. You grab at his shirt, tugging him into you, and then you’re pushing him across the room and onto the bed, pulling off your clothes as you go, and he simply follows your lead everywhere. You try not to bump his wounded cheek as he slides between your legs, silver tongue laving the wetness he finds there, but when he coaxes your first orgasm from you, your thighs quake hard enough to make him hiss. 

Before you can apologize, he’s climbing on top of you, kissing you again. His moan as he finally slides inside you breaks the silence of the room, and then it fills with the sounds of his thrusts and the panting of breath. You add wordless cries, fingers digging into his skin to hold him, wanting him so close, so deep. Even with you clutching him tightly, his hips never stop moving, cock stroking into you again and again.

“Jungkook,” he whispers into your neck, “my name is Jungkook.” 

You breathe your own name back. Those are the only words spoken as pleasure washes over the two of you, giving you both something real to anchor yourselves to before you’re completely swept away. 

When you wake later, after the sun has set, the bed is cold beside you. Lying on his pillow is the heart-shaped pendant.

The fifth time you meet him, it’s goodbye. 

The decade since the war ended hasn’t been easy on you. Once your countries were done destroying each other, you climbed out of the rubble and ran as far as you could, seeking a new home. 

The life you’ve built for yourself in this country is a quiet one. Simple. But you’re okay with that. On Saturdays, you venture into town to purchase groceries, often stopping at a café on the corner for coffee and a pastry. It’s there, perched on an iron chair on the sidewalk outside the restaurant, that you see him. 

He’s standing on the other side of the street. That swoop of hair rises above the busy pedestrians trudging along with their hunched over shoulders, the crowd swiftly flowing around him like he's a towering rock in the stream. Your eyes meet, and you delicately place your coffee cup back on its saucer before you drop it. 

The years appear to have been kinder to him, but are visible nonetheless in his countenance as you peer at him. Strands of grey shimmer in his raven hair. His smile hasn’t faded, eyes still sparkle in the light of the morning sun, but there are more lines on his face now. Scars, yes, but also laugh lines crinkling around his eyes, deep and true. 

Maybe you should invite him to join you. Talk about what happened that night before the world burnt down. Regale each other with stories about your lives since. 

At the very least, you could tell him you understand.

He smiles at you, and before you can raise your arm to beckon him over, someone else takes his hand. Someone who looks at him with nothing but adoration in their gaze. He turns to them and his smile grows, and your heart expands in your chest, an oddly full feeling that overwhelms and calms you at once. The other person tugs on his arm, urging him forward, into the crowd.

He lifts his hand in a silent wave. You do the same. Then the passers-by swell, and he’s gone. 

© 2022-23 by sunshinerainbowsbts/minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost.

Taglist: @babycoffeefire; @parkdatjimin; @/reliablemitten; @yuugehn; @ut-dixisti; @hesperantha; @seokjinger-ale; @bangtanintotheroom; ​​@taeshuworld; @nch327; @hannahbee12719ficrecs; @7minsuga96; @dvalitaes; @wonieclub; @thatlongspringnight; @miscelunaaa; @acquiescence804; @itsirisz; @velvetskize; @starbtslove; @ajw05; @bruisedscrewedandtattooed; @minesuga; @greezenini; @aznstoner; @jkkkkkay; @xuxibelle; @soeur-de-ame; @boraborabts; @signmybook; @bbl32; @codeinebelle; @here4btsfics; @itbtoblikethatsometimes; @kookprada; @addictedtohobi; @shatzkrinslinzki; @jaiuneamesolitaiire

#jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #bangtanarmynet #ficscafe #ksmutclub #btshoneyhive #btswritingcafe #thebtswritersclub #btscarnivalnet #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you #bts smut #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenarios #possumswrite #fic: covert affairs #jeon jungkook

[applejacks1552]

A brief rant on Rogue and Gambit volume 2, now that we are past issue 2.

Exactly WHO is this book for?

I honestly don't know.

I don't get the angle this book is taking and why anyone would think THIS is what fans of Rogue, Gambit or both characters would want.

They are both coming off as complete and utter assholes.

Rogue is a cold, mean, emotionally abusive bossy workaholic with no empathy or sense of fun.

Gambit is a hapless, charmless incompetent drunk with apparently no regard for the safety of innocent lives now ... so that's new I guess along with being a drunk.

This writer gives us almost nothing playful or cute between them, only biting words and very few of them at that. No thought bubbles either. So very little actual story.

Where is any of the banter or flirting or charm that has characterized them for nearly 30 years? Where is any sense of fun or emotional depth?

Then suddenly they go from being completely cold to each other to completely hot ... and we basically totally skip the hot part? WHY?!? On what planet is THAT the part you smash cut out?! So yes, sex in the desert and then right back to arguing. That's how that works ... said no one who has ever had sex. (And for those whining, desert sex would be better than freezing cold cave sex actually. )

Otherwise there is one more tiny awkward moment of connection when they dance, only to interrupt it for the stupid hero misunderstanding fight with BP that frankly we are all VERY sick of. It's a tired trope. Please stop it. It's illogical. It's dumb. No.

Honestly I could not care less about this plot with the kidnapped mutants. Really kind of a copy off the volume 1 plot tbh, but far less interesting.

Then the worst crime ... having Gambit put an innocent woman in harms way for a diversion. Something he has never done before nor that I can buy. It was so badly out of character that it's just plain character assasination at this point. Just what his character needed, more abuse by another writer. And honestly, Rogue goes along with it despite complaining so she's truly being an asshole too. She's not off the hook.

This is a relationship story that needed a chisel to smooth over the Excalibur/KoX damage and instead they came at it with an pickaxe. There is no nuance. No subtlety.

I really don't get when writers take the "let's make everyone terrible" angle for a story as if that's what would bring any fan of any character that they love enjoyment or lure in new fans. Yes ... it's just SO great to pay nearly $5 just to experience your favorite characters being truly their worst selves? Thanks, I guess? But I surely could have found a hate-fic for free, you know. It burns all the more after sitting through several years of similarly unenjoyable writing just prior to this. The Krakoan era has sucked big time for Romy fans.

Even if you compare this mini to the short piece from X-Men that Duggan wrote that supposedly inspired this series, that Rogue and Gambit were in synch and charming and fun together. Cracking jokes. Rogue in sunglasses and bringing cake. Fighting side-by-side. Not making snide comments at each other.

And this isn't even some slightly juvenile but charming trashy fun in the way that X-Terminators was or one of those classic loveable losers type stories, where sure ... the characters are all pretty flawed but they still have true heart.

This Rogue and Gambit don't have that heart.

At this point I'm past mad. I'm just disappointed. Especially after the abysmal last few years for them.

Put this characterization up against how they are being written in Captain Marvel or X-Treme X-Men right now and it's just night and day. Those writers treat them both with so much respect and show them respecting each other.

Can the editors and writer not tell the difference between normal marital strife and dangerously toxic, emotionally abusive behavior?

Where is the beautiful emotional intelligence of R&G volume 1 or MMX?

Also ... THREE "mon cheri" usages?! Just no. NO. Stop that. WHY?!?!

I have been reading these characters for decades and this was just ... 🤦‍♀️

It has to get better. It literally cannot get much worse.

#gambit #romy #remy lebeau #rogue #marvel #anna marie lebeau #gambit x rogue #xmen #rogue x gambit #x men comics #comics

[ghost-duck0]

Okay so I’m very much on board with the theory that Gambit is going to become the horseman of death, I hope and prey it happens because it would be so cool but in this scenario there would still be three other horseman positions that would need to be filled. Sooo maybe three other mutants will be brought back. My hope is that it would be Shaw for war, calisto or banshee for pestilence, and dazzler or Madelyne for famine. I think this is all a little bit of a stretch but I feel like there needs to be some reason other than time travel for all these characters to come back.

#gambit #madelyne pryor #apocalypse #four horsemen of the apocalypse #death #war #famine #pestilence #dazzler #banshee #calisto #theory #creators please bring gambit back please #x men 97

[the-fiction-witch]

Laundry

Media The Queens Gambit

Character Benny Watts

Couple Benny X Reader

Rating Flirty

I was sitting on the small ottomans in the basement that Benny called home, Next week was Paris and we were going together as Co-Champions this year. He had graciously offered his apartment so I didn't have to book a hotel so we could train and prep for the games ahead. Plus I wanted to come to New York for some shopping anyway. But this place isn't exactly what I imagined... then again now thinking about it, I'm not sure I did imagine Benny to live any better than this, but it's just a little jarring when it's true. I glanced away from my book and looked around the grey dimly lit basement, the shower in the corner, no sofa, frosted window to the bedroom, the kitchen not much more than a fridge, a counter and a single stovetop. And there he sat utterly in his element at his table no shoes but still black socks, his dark jeans his belt sat comfortably his knife in its holster, a black t-shirt with his green textured shirt on over it with the sleeves rolled up, his chains against his chest and his arms, rings across his fingers, he sat his coffee cup on the table fixed his facial hair and focused back to his board moving the piece he had been contemplating for the last ten minutes.

"Benny?" I asked

"Yeah?" He asks glancing up

"I don't mean to ... pry into your personal business -"

"But you're going to?"

"I am going to," I nodded "Do you actually live like this?"

"Yeah?"

"This isn't like some elaborate prank? And this is like where you store your chess board or something and you actually have a decent semi-detached townhouse in Queens?" I asked

"You're really struggling with this aren't you?"

"I'm just... curious."

"I like it"

"I mean I know New York isn't the cheapest place but..."

"But ?"

"But come on. I cannot repeat this enough: your shower is next to your fridge. You wash your ass beside where you make food. You have a window in your bedroom. That's not wallpaper that's just concrete"

"I like it"

"Really? Because I'm pretty sure you can afford better"

"Are you now?"

"We're co-companions I know how much you earn. Unless you're getting a bonus because of your additional appendage"

"Appendage?" He asked looking confused

"Your penis"

"Oh. No y/n, price money does not differ between appendages"

"Every other job I've ever worked does"

"The chess federation doesn't give a damn about appendages y/n"

"Still..."

"I like this place"

"...that brings up a good point actually... I'm not seeing a washing machine. Anywhere?"

"No,"

"Is there... a secret Washing machine?"

"No"

"Okay, do you need to go to someplace in the building and do laundry?"

"You wanna do some laundry?"

"Yes please"

"Alright, get your stuff," he says getting up and heading into his room, I gathered my laundry unsure what to do with it all and he returned with a large drawstring bag "Throw your stuff in here," he says dropping it on the floor with a thud

"In there?"

"Yeah"

I pulled the bag a little to peek inside "Ahhh I'm not putting my laundry in with yours!"

"Why not?"

"Because that's gross!"

"But we're taking it to clean? So what does it matter?"

"It just does Benny!"

"You can put it in the bag or you can carry all your laundry by hand, up to you"

I sighed and out of my clothes, getting my bag and my shoes as he got his shoes and his jacket grabbing the bag and putting it over his shoulder

"Come on then," he says heading out so I followed him he locked the door behind us and we headed up to the dirty New York streets I followed him down the pavement past cars and trash bags for a good while, it felt like we'd been walking forever at least ten blocks by now until finally we arrived at a little hole in the wall laundromat between a record store and a pizza place we headed inside and it was much as you'd expect a little place with a line of washers on one side and dryers on the other a few tables and chairs in the middle and the back wall has a few vending machines on it and a change machine in the centre.

"This is where you do laundry?"

"Well yeah?" He shrugs slipping his jacket off throwing it over a chair and bumping the bag In Front of a machine heading to the back getting change from the machine "You can pop the first load on" he says throwing me a coin from the machine

"I am not touching your underwear"

"I didn't ask you to,"

I sighed and put the first of what I'm sure will be many loads in "washing powder?" I asked

"Uhhh cherry blossom, clean linin, or tropical?"

"Whatever cheapest"

"They all the same"

"Cherry"

"Alright, here," he says getting it from the machine and throwing it over so I put the laundry on and sit at the table

"So we're just gonna sit here all day?"

"Yep"

"Why not go back to the basement?'

"Because by the time you walk back to the apartment, it'll be time to turn around and walk back and the machine will just have finished" he explained sitting down too "It's up to you"

"Fine" I sighed "Why do you come here though? It's dead and it's so far from your apartment? You're not telling me this is the only laundromat in New York?"

"I like this place, it's quiet. Everything is machined so I don't have to deal with people, it's cheap, and the place next door does great pizza"

"The more I get to know you the weirder I think you are Benny" I sighed

"Thanks?"

'It wasn't a compliment"

"I'm taking it as one" he shrugs getting a deck box from his jacket pocket opening it up pulling out a very nice deck of cards which he shuffled in his hand "You can pick"

"Poker"

"AHH nothing to bet with I don't play poker unless I'm better try again'

"fine rummy then" I answered so he shuffled and dealt the cards letting us play for a while "Why do you use this place? really?" I asked as he put the next load on

"You really wanna know?" He sighed

"Yeah,"

"Fine" He sighed sitting back in his seat, "The Guy who owns this place, and the two places next door"

"The pizza and the record store?"

"Yeah, he's also my landlord"

"Okay..."

"So long as I pay my rent I get free pizza and free records, he even takes money off my rent when I do my laundry here"

"Hu... What a nice man"

"Yeah he's great, and I like helping him out. he's doing his best to make it on his own and get out of the family business"

I was confused a moment before it clicked "Holy god- If your landlord is a maf-"

"Yes. His dad runs the New York Mafia. He wants to go straight so I'm more than happy to help"

"Your life is insane"

"At least it's not boring."

"I'd argue this is incredibly boring"

"I don't know, I like the quiet routine of it all"

"Had it ever occurred to you Benny that you're boring?"

"I think I'm pretty damn excited"

"Do you? Really? Like honestly Benny?"

"My life is very exciting."

"Sitting in a laundromat for six hours? Watching your underwear go round and round?"

"I don't know," he says "I've heard many lovely ladies complimenting the excitement of washing machines"

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm sure many ladies find washing machines exciting." He says

"Do they?"

"I have read."

"Read?

"I have read. Such."

"Ohh in your pervy penthouse magazines?"

"I'm simply saying most girls would like being able to sit on a washing machine for a few hours"

"I doubt that"

"I don't know, I'm sure this would be more exciting if you sat yourself on the washing machine" he smirked

"That's not a real thing Benny"

"I'm sure it does" "Its not"

"You willing to prove that?"

"I'm not sitting on a washing machine to amuse you"

"It's not going to amuse me it's to prove if it's true or not"

"You're disgusting" I sighed getting up and grabbing my bag "I'm going next door for pizza,"

#thomas brodie sangster #tbs smut #tbs imagine #tbs imagines #thomas sangster imagine #thomas brodie sangster imagine #thomas sangster #thomasbrodiesangster #thomas brodie sangster smut #tbs #benny x reader #benny smut #benny fanfic #benny imagine #benny #tqg benny watts #benny watts smut #benny watts imagine #bennywattssmut #benny watts

[gidaryeong]

Sejak episode 1-3

I like the opening scene and the defiance of the would-be militia when daegun is virtue signaling with that little kid. The show offers us a clear gaze into Jinhan's good intentions, but also doesn't end there: he's not allowed to have the final say in what the moment represents.

Aaahhh Choi Dae-hoon is ACTING!!! He's really getting to explore his range as mad king and I love that for him. This sneaky sanggung is really bringing it too, intense presence despite zero lines and very little facial expression. I hope she's the one poisoning him

Reader, I screeched. She is really channeling that Rookie Historian energy for this role and I am obviously obsessed with her character already.

This is so cute she painted their game to remember it!!!

At first I found it silly that Mong-woo passes so well in this society given that he dresses like this (with the lip gloss to match). But I'm making it work with the headcanon that everyone just thinks he's kind of fruity

Or maybe they're just dazzled by how hot he is and don't have the brain cells left to question it.

Petition to bring back baduk as the homosocial pass time par excellence! (Wouldn't it be nice if this show caused a baduk craze like The Queen's Gambit made everyone a little insane about chess?)

The frown of a man whose date with the local twink got interrupted :(

Theee daebi mama. I know some people think she's getting typecast but there's just something about her that screams Most Powerful Person in the House and she has never not delivered

Gotta love the main character syndrome of Hui-soo walking into the torture chamber and getting shook when the torture police decides to torture her. She's so used to talking her way out of everything that it never even occurred to her that she might actually die a gruesome death here :)

Btw second lead is so disconcertingly similar to Kim Byeong-in in Mr. Queen, like not only his character but also mannerisms and even kind of his appearance? Please tell me I'm not the only one who sees it? They even blink in the same way?? (I say as someone who has studied the minute expressions of Na In-woo closely for research and also for pleasure)

#my sejak tag #sejak: charmed deceit #captivating the king

[telestoapologist]

things i've learned in gambit:

have a prepped team member to keep watch over the bank if you've got a lot of motes so when the blockers come, you won't lose a lot. help them out so they can get a chance at the heavy ammo. take one for the team if you have to.

same goes for invading and the invader. if you've got someone who's REALLY fucking good at invading (or more than one person), they're the best to send/let go over. for the opposing end, everyone should do their part in keeping a lookout because there's multiple spawning points. if it's a hard hitter, keep wary of sniper points and have heavy hitting guns ready to take them out asap

listen to drifter, sometimes doing what he says is for the best. also he's incredibly motivational

listen to music too. specifically the more laid back kind.

things i've learned in iron banner:

listening to music instead of the dialogue and sounds around you is more efficient and fun

work as a pack, pun intended. you are wolves for a reason.

do NOT go off on your own to chase after someone who's pissed you off. it's probably an ambush/trap, but you also can't let your emotions and need for revenge get the best of you. 9 times out of ten you WILL eat shit and feel bad about it later.

share the green ammo. please. you are most likely not the only person on the team who's carrying around slugs and grenade launchers.

things you can apply for both (and any group-based pvp playlist):

defend your team and look out for each other.

if it's not fun for you anymore and you're genuinely stressed/angry or just not feeling it anymore, just leave. i promise it's not worth it.

don't fucking bring witherhoard unless you're trying to get the catalyst (I think it requires pvp, but if not, then don't). absolute crusty ass no-skill winless behavior

don't be a bad sport and/or an asshole. remember it's just a game but the people who you're playing with are real. if you're teammate is being a dick and confrontation doesn't scare the shit out of you, call them out on it in whatever way so long as you're not also being a massive piece of shit.

pay attention to your pets/kids/family/etc. i promise you no video game is worth fucking neglecting those who rely on and love you. no bullshit, no excuses.

just have fun and be cool!!! get sillay with it, even

#these apply to me but also anyone else who wants to keep these in mind #feel free to reblog and add any othr de2 pvp tips!!

[windsweptinred]

10 Characters/10 Fandoms /10 Tags

Thank you for the tag @two-hands-toward-the-sun, this took me on a deep delve of my fandom past! Time to roll out my gaggle of glorious bastards again...

1. Ken Ichijouji - Digimon 02

Babies first blorbo. Puppy kicking, whip weilding antagonist who giveth not a shiteth. With a soul as black as his gloriously groomed locks. Who, by the power of love is transformed into the soggiest little puddle of twink you ever did see. Tragic backstory ✔️ A smorgasbord of issues ✔️ A realtionship with their rival/best friend so obbsessive, you're going to have a harder time proving this ship isn't a thing than it is. ✔️ Ken Ichijouji came with everything a young, naive millennial needed to make their first glorious steps into the world of fandom.

2. Ryou Bakura/Yami Bakura/Theif King Bakura - (Same body, they count as one!) Yu-Gi-Oh

Ryou Bakura - Adorable British cupcake with the soul of a traumatised lovecraftian cultist. Staring into the abyss while having afternoon tea. Gothic horror in a cream knit.

Yami Bakura - Actual murder floof, the walking personification of a horror podcast. In his wake trails body gore, supernatural mystery and gay subtext. Part demon, part Egyptian theif, 100% bringing sexy back. (bonus points: Florence)

Thief King Bakura - Traumatic back story maketh homicidal rogue. Wears red, has a social circle made up of ghosts and snake monsters... Is this not prime husband material?

3. Starscream - Transformers

Darling little duplicitous second in command of the Decepticons. Not just any 'Little Shit', THE 'Little Shit'. Simulatiously the dumbest and cleverest bot in any room. And that, my friends, takes a particular breed of talent. Negative traits, scheming, petty, fabulous. Postive traits, scheming, petty, fabulous. Repetitive attempts to off Megatron, play of either the power or fore variety. Not sure which, could be both.

4. Darth Maul/ General Armitage Hux- Star Wars

I will not and cannot choose a favourite between them. Instead, watch with wonder and awe as I neatly compress them into the same blurb...

Sad meow meow with self-worth issues does galactic war crimes to prove 'daddy' wrong. What do you mean my fixation with thwarting my archnemeis can't be classed as a hobby/career goal/life ambition? My voice can launch a thousand ships... Different circumstances, same truth. Such a pathetic little sausage, you'll want to sit them down and feed them soup. But they know atleast 101 ways to kill you with the spoon... So best not risk it.

5. Crowley - Supernatural

The diabolical king of cunt serving. Me and my athletic calves are doing this right thing for all wrong reasons...And you can't prove other wise! Alignment: Risk it for a biscuit. Four step program to deal with all life's problems: 1: flirt at it, 2: shout at it, 3: throw (please pick your chosen Winchester or, if pushed, tailor) at it. 4:... Yell bollocks and follow with a whiskey chaser.

6. Desire/Destiny of the Endless - The Sandman

Again, not picking. Desire, my darling little hell kitten. Destiny, my inglorious bastard in brown...

This is my world, you MFs all just live in it!

My emotions... Which I do not have, are the route cause of everyone else's problems.

Ah humanity, the dust bunnies upon which I sneeze.

Even in a glorified bathrobe, I'm still better then you, and you know it.

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that Dream of the Endless is a f*cking dumb ass.

7. Remy Lebeau (Gambit) - Xmen, Marvel Comics

Marvel looked at their collection of motley mutant misfits. And realised they had a morally dubious, disaster bi shaped hole to fill... And there Remy Lebeau has been for for 30 slutty, slutty years and counting. Sex in fushia pink spandex. Single handily keeping thievery in Americas top 50 kinks. Slowly exhausting the world's supply of playing cards... Must be considered a traitor to the cause atleast once a decade to keep his street cred. Must be considered a secret Summers brother atleast once a decade to keep his ego in check.

8. Jonathan Crane (Scarecrow) - Batman (DC)

Scythe wielding, reigning and defending Trick or treat world champion since 1941. The physical attributes of a Giacometti sculpture with the rustic aesthetic of the folk horror genre. Grumpy old man syndrome dialed up to eleven. Pets: Craw the crow, Nightmare the raven... Edward Nygma. Built a life manifesto based on a gothic novel... Oh captain, my captain.

9. Alfie Solomons - Peaky Blinders

All hail the great arisen god of Margate. Who looked upon Tommy Shelby and called him smol. Weilds tomfuckery like a pepper spray straight up the jacksie. Views betrayal as a bonding exercise. Somewhere in his words are the the meaning of life. Still awaiting the lab results as to whether this man is the anthropomorphic personification of chaotic neutral. Not even part of the egg and spoon race. Will still manage to win with a watermelon and a novelty spork.

10. Elias Bouchard - The Magnus Archives

(art by @felix-krain and @caligosatchel)

Cluedo character brought to life by malevolent eldritch entity for sexy end of the world shinnanigans. I suspect either Proffesor Plum or Reverend Green, professional opinions vary. Maintains the inability to move more than one square at a time when enacting nefarious schemes. Still has a preference for homicide by kitchenware. Comes with all the British, arch dilf energy of an Agatha Cristie villain. Taking the horrors from the hands of privileged elite and unleashing them on unsuspecting white collar workers. Eye, chin and tits first.

Whelp, that's my ten fictional characters/fandoms. Men folk (and Desire) addition. When I say I like them on the morally grey dulux colour chart. I'm not exaggerating. 😅

I'm tagging, at your pleasure @mashumaru @aisalynn @bobbole @tickldpnk8 @writing-for-life @marvagon @missingrache @rriavian @jazzy-a and @ibrithir-was-here

#ken ichijouji #digimon #ryou bakura #yami bakura #theif king bakura #yugioh #starscream #transformers #crowley supernatural #supernatural #desire of the endless #destiny of the endless #The sandman #remy lebeau #xmen #marvel comics #jonathan crane #the scarecrow #batman #dc comics #elias bouchard #the magnus archives #alfie solomons #peaky blinders