#she cares a lot about shit like this so this is Prime Gossip

[lady-necropolis]

Papas as Dads

Since I’m bored on my lunch break I figured I’d share with you my actual hcs about the papas as dads. If you’ve been reading Selfish Creatures, some of this might be a little familiar to you as it encapsulates a lot of my general hcs about Ghost lore.

Primo: I hc that Primo has a good 10-12 years on Secondo, and since Nihil had always been absent, he had to grow up real fast to look out for his little brother. He definitely views his brothers as his own children and treats them as such. Because he was so preoccupied with making sure Secondo and Terzo stayed out of trouble, all while ruling as Papa, he never had the time to have his own, and if he was being honest, he never really felt the need to.

Is extremely kind, loving, and patient with his brothers, and would make the most wonderful grandpa figure to their children. He loves baking and gardening with the little ones. They come to visit him at his cottage all the time and they’re always excited to go. Also gives amazing advice, definitely the person they all go to when they’re having a hard time figuring shit out.

Secondo: Would probably not want any children. In some sense, he doesn’t entirely trust himself to father his own children, fearing he may keep up some of the neglectful and hurtful tendencies that Nihil had when “raising” them. But that’s mostly in his head. He’s wonderful with kids and all his patience dedicated to them because he knows what it’s like when someone you look up to is short with you when you’re young, and he doesn’t want any child to feel that isolation.

He was about eighteen years old when Terzo was born and he has never loved anything more than his little brother. Because Primo became Papa only a few years after his birth, Secondo took on most of the parenting duties. Putting him to bed, feeding him, playing with him. All the good and bad stuff. His nickname for his younger brother is “little one” and to this day he still uses it in private. Was super patient and let Terzo act like a real kid. His favourite thing was holding him and cuddling him when Terzo would crawl into his bed in the middle of the night.

Terzo considers Secondo his father and occasionally when he’s emotional he’ll slip up and call him “dad” but he truly means it. He had an amazing and loving childhood thanks to his older brothers. When his children are born he introduces them to Secondo and Primo as their grandchildren.

Sometimes people ask him if he’ll ever take a prime mover and have any children of his own. He simply frowns and says “What for? I already have a son”

Terzo: I imagine he’d have like three daughters. The first two are born about four years apart and like him, his third daughter is born a bit later, when the eldest is maybe nine or ten. He absolutely loves being a dad. It’s his favourite thing in the world. And he happens to be their favourite parent. Super loving and affectionate with his babies. He can often be seen with his two eldest clinging to his legs while he carries the baby around the ministry, cooing at her all lovingly. Loves reading to them at night and tucking them in. They’re pretty much glued to him at all times when they're little.

He’s very open with his children and his daughters feel like they can tell him everything. And they do. Whether it’s gossip over lunch in his office or coming to him with romantic troubles, he’s always ready to listen. He may not always have the best advice to give but he does his best to offer support and make sure his daughters know he cares.

He does fall short in the discipline area, which definitely drives his prime mover crazy. But she’s too cute, Cara mia. Yeah, well that too cute kiddo should not be eating a full sleeve of cookies right before dinner.

Terzo had a great foundation and two excellent role models for what a parent should be in his brothers, and it all reflects in how much loves and respects his daughters.

Copia: Because he was raised without much parental figures, fatherhood is extremely daunting for him. When he first found out his prime mover was expecting he ran to Terzo in absolute panic. Luckily for him his best friend is like the best dad ever so he got lots of great advice. He probably ends up having one or two kids, and they’re raised side by side with Terzo. They’re thick as thieves just as their dads are.

Is a little awkward as a dad, especially when it comes to tackling the serious things, and judging by how much difficulty he has reigning in his ghouls, he’s an absolute nightmare at keeping them in line. Even worse than Terzo. Terzo just loves bad ideas, but Copia doesn’t, he just sucks at being authoritative.

He absolutely loves his kids though and tries really hard to be present and supportive of everything they do. Tries to be curious and indulge in their interests as much as he can. And while he may be the more quiet dad type, his children know they can count on him for anything, he’ll always be by their side.

#the band ghost #ghost bc #ghost hc #papa emeritus #papa emiritus ii #papa emeritus iii #terzo emeritus #cardinal copia #papa emeritus iv

[kimboatfloats]

I am not a monarchist. Just throwing that out there when I go off for the next godknowshowmany words about my obsession: The Monarchy.

So just recently the Queen died. I wanted to call her the Queen of England, but that’s not accurate because she’s also the Queen of Canada, Australia, Scotland, Northern Ireland … and the list continues covering countries all over the world (and also entering into territories of colonialism and the like that I can’t fathom at my I’m awake at 4am listening to the sounds of my child sleeping and I need to get words off my mind so I log into Tumblr).

Okay so I’m a fan. I’m part of the British Royalty fandom. I know a shit ton about them that I honestly have no valid reason to know. It’s beyond just watching The Crown and the odd Diana biopic. It’s deep. And I had no idea that I was deep in it until the Queen died.

Things that I discovered to find out that I was indeed a fan and probably more obsessed than I realised:

So apparently not everyone knows the British succession.

People exist that haven’t heard the Charles “I want to be your tampon” audio clips.

Not everyone remembers when they found out that Princess Diana had died.

People hate Meghan (why do I get to go by her first name?) and are not aware that the monarchy is shit and has treated her like ass.

Very few people care about the Romanovs and how they could have been saved by Elizabeth II’s granddad but he chose to be a shit about it.

There’s lots of Nazis in the Royal Family and most people don’t give a shit.

That talking about them as if you know everything makes you sound like a monarchist (even when I’m not! Shit.).

They’re protecting a pedophile. People just think he had a shit wife and she was kinda red-haired and dieted.

That being able to spout off a bunch of gossip and documentary knowledge about the Queen and her husband is kinda weird and not a regular thing people do.

I had guests yesterday. They were over to see Georgie. (My child is named Georgiana after Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice, but with a regal British name like George it could probably be misconstrued as monarchist?)

Someone brought up the funeral or maybe I did. I mean I wake up at 3 am on the regular now and tend to be wide awake for several hours in the middle of the night. So I just started watching the BBC broadcast on YouTube of the funeral. It was quieter than the CBC broadcast (which was of the same video footage but required me to log onto their site instead of on YouTube which is easier to watch from an app). I watched it like I watched Kate and Will’s wedding (live and at the actual time in the U.K that it was happening).

Anyway, someone brought up the funeral and I said I had watched it earlier in the morning and it was lovely. That we would never seen such pomp and circumstance ever again. And I kept going on until I read the room and I realised… none of the people there cared in the slightest.

Shit.

I fandomed all over them. I tried to backtrack and be super blasé about it. Oh I’m not a monarchist (I’m not. I’d like Canada to remove the monarch from our Constitutional Monarchy and instead have a Governor General who is selected by the Prime Minister and the current one has very little political power — I just don’t want a Republic where the power lies in one person supposedly elected by the masses, but … okay I’m not a monarchist). Oh I just like the Britishness of it. Oh I don’t really care that much.

But I care, all. I care a lot. Like a stupid amount. And not just of the British Monarchy. I’m stupidly obsessed with titled shits all across Europe. I find feudalism fucking phenomenal. I have dipped a toe into Empires in China and Japan and I’m like.. tastes like good shit to devour.

It’s a problem. There’s nowhere for me to blurt all this stuff out — except for old ladies on Facebook who are a little bit racist — okay a lotta bit racist. I checked out the Royal Redditsphere and it was either super gossip (and kinda meh) or it was historical and has a lot of boring posts by mens about war and codpieces. We get it. Henry the VIII stuffed his massive codpiece. It’s not really as hilarious as your repost. I’ve seen that shit suit of armour a hundred times already. Yawn. So like I also don’t have commemorative or collective items. That’s just not my bag. So the groups relating to that aren’t interesting to me.

And it sounds like I’m shitting on those other fans. I shouldn’t be and if I am then I am sorry, but they’re not the fans I fit in with. Like I’m in some shitposting groups for other fandoms (Star Trek, Our Flag Means Death, D&D) and I really wish there was something similar for world royalty. I don’t want to run it. I don’t want to start it. I want to join it and have it already exist. I’m so entitled.

[ivy-saurs]

nearly just woke my mum up at midnight to tell her my neighbours have put their house up for sale

#she cares a lot about shit like this so this is Prime Gossip #also their house is so much nicer than ours on the inside wtf #(there are pictures of it on the real estate website or whatever tf it's called) #it's kinda weird tho bc we were just talking today about how she's gonna sell this place next year

[walkuntilthedaylight]

The people have spoken! How can I not give them what they want?

I'm gonna put this all under a cut, since it's a bit long, and also because it's highly interpretative/speculative and not everyone likes those kinds of posts as they can be rather subjective and, I suppose, invasive. I want to give two major caveats to my thoughts below: first is that I tend not to buy the idea that Paul was the "stable/normal" Beatle, mostly b/c I view marijuana dependency and workaholism as addictions and I take them pretty seriously. Second is that I really do love this kind of tabloid/gossip/personal account shit; I think it should be taken with a handful of salt, but I don't think it should be entirely dismissed out of hand either. I read this stuff like I'm piling up sheets of stained glass: I'm intrigued by the places where the colours blend and overlap, and ignore things that fall outside the prism. Anyway, let's dig in:

Okay, so what I found fascinating about 'Body Count' is that it's one of the only sources which observes Paul McCartney's mental health during the period between the India trip and when the band breakup really got rolling. I think it's overall a fairly self-absorbed text that definitely has some lies and exaggerations peppered in there to make things spicier and more dramatic, but its broad characterization - as I mentioned in my first post - isn't exactly libelous or out of left field. Some elements that make me think it's generally if not wholly authentic are: Paul's simultaneously forceful and dorky seduction style, his terrible Liverpool diet and poor housekeeping, the bouts of thrill-seeking recklessness, avoidant adventure crafting, dark moods when drinking non-socially, the occasional hot and cold bouts with the Apple Scuffs camped out at his gate, and the way in which he underplays his drug habit, which is SO "in truthfulness we spent most of the filming of Help! slightly stoned":

These details are so bizarrely specific and have significant overlap with both sympathetic and spurned personal accounts of Paul I've read in the past, so I believe Francie is just telling "Her Version Of The Truth" here rather than crafting a piece of pure fiction. The most important and revealing anecdote in the book is this one.

There's no reason not to believe this is a fairly accurate representation of something that actually happened, imo, since we know that anxious purse strings were an ongoing issue in the unusual turnover rate within the band Wings, and there are plenty of confirmed and rumoured cases alike of extended family members feeling entitled to a "piece of the pie"; this is just like, the kind of thing that happens to working class people who get catapulted into fame and fortune. And Paul in particular already had deep-seated financial anxiety for whatever reasons he'll never fully admit (as is his right, but I think his offhand claim that he "once heard some adults arguing about money and that's why" might actually be alluding to having heard some adults - y'know, like his parents - arguing over money fairly frequently). What esp interests me about the anecdote is the way Paul seems to connect the conflict b/t his dual "identities" with these financial expectations. Perhaps the CAPSLOCK emotional hysteria related in the book is puffed up for drama, but it does bring to mind one of the most revealing comments Linda ever made about their relationship, which is that Paul needed to be told he would still be loved when the cameras weren't rolling. And that's the thing: Francie caught Paul at the exact moment that the pillars of his Smile-For-The-Camera "Beatle" identity were collapsing; the dissolution of his relationships with John and Jane.

Whatever all this could possibly mean re: the breakup of the Lennon-McCartney partnership is a post for another time. What I wanna do instead is apply the level of speculation we usually reserve for that relationship to the endpoint of Paul and Jane's courtship.

So like, Paul and Jane: I know people are resistant to this specific POV, but I honestly just don't... think it was that deep? "Not deep", mind you, doesn't mean "not significant". Paul was obviously Jane's first love (u never forget), but the feeling I get from Paul's side (as a subconscious process I mean) is that Jane's importance was primarily as a lynchpin in his London Socialite persona. He loved her family, he loved the friend group, the artistic scene dating her gave him access to, as well as the leg up he got in the class system, etc. He liked to be the kind of guy who was dating Jane Asher. But I don't know that he was the guy who was dating Jane Asher, you get me? When people describe their "great love" they accidentally tell on them (Cynthia innocently describing Paul as being pleased to have her on his arm like a trophy; John: "it was an ordinary love scene"; Alistair Taylor noting that Paul was humiliated by the breakup). Paul's a serial monogamist who U-Hauls like a lesbian, of course, so he definitely took the relationship VERY seriously, but it's telling that all of his love songs to her were either about hitting a brick wall in arguments (certainly not dreamy, fond, yearning of "sunday morning fights about saturday night"; and occasionally expressing hints of class tension too), or completely non-descript Guy With A Guitar Trying To Get Laid shit. I could extrapolate a lot about Linda just from listening to McCartney I/RAM and the Wings discography, but 'And I Love Her' doesn't tell me a single thing about Jane besides that she's pretty. It could be about literally anyone the same way 'My Love' or 'Maybe I'm Amazed' could only be about his dynamic with Linda. Some of this is obviously the natural result of getting older and gaining emotional maturity; what I'm saying is that Paul's behaviour and self-expression in this relationship does not suggest to me that it was one in which his emotional maturity was able to develop or flourish.

I want to stress again that I don't think this belittles the significance of the relationship or makes it "bad" or "fake". Like, sometimes hot people just date for a while in their teens and twenties and love each other without necessarily unlocking their inner emotional cores, usually because they don't know how to. It's, like, fine. You need to experience relationships like that as stepping stones. I simply believe that this sort of front-facing social importance being prime in the romance is a major factor in why it ultimately didn't work (and probably in Linda's reported lingering jealousy of Jane, who wasn't just an ex, but also a symbol of the life Paul ditched to build a new identity w/ her, and sometimes still pined for). With Jane, Paul was dating the "right" kind of girl (didn't put out on the first date, erudite and middle class, as serious about her career as he was, a good "celebrity" match), but the relationship often wasn't doing what he wanted it to do. Francie's observation is that by 1968 it also wasn't doing what he needed it to do either. This is the overwhelming "mood" in her affair with Paul McCartney: that he needed something very badly from a romantic partner that he just was NOT getting, and Francie couldn't figure out what it was either:

(note that she means "queer" as in "mad", not "gay")

This was an EXTREMELY roundabout way of asking: well, what WAS it that Paul needed a relationship to do for him? And I think this is Francie's big, accidental insight. The most scandalous claim in 'Body Count' is that Paul told Francie that he hit Jane and it "turned her on".

I personally think this is p. absurd absent any real proof to back it up, but like, what is Francie actually saying HE'S saying here? If she's exaggerating or lying, she's trying to make it believable within the psychological parameters laid out, right? It's not an expression of some secret desire to dominate women she's accusing him of, but emotional disturbance and confusion at the idea that the woman he was with might like that sort of forceful, masculine violence more than his softer, feminine side, which he was - yeah, we all know it - deeply insecure about.

Regardless of whether specific details are true or false (and I think there's both in this story, all hyper-magnified to make it, y'know, a ~STORY~), I think what might be true is the emotional undertow of the retelling, that this all taken together is actually representative of the side of Paul McCartney she was exposed to, at a time when his public and private facades had both become unbearable to the point of cracking and the drug-fueled optimism of the Summer of Love was getting scrubbed off of everyone and everything. It's the Paul McCartney who eviscerated frogs because he was worried he was too "soft" for compulsory military service. The Paul who modelled his masculine teen behaviour off John Lennon's fake "Marlon Brando" swagger, but was actually more fond of the velvet "Oscar Wilde" interior.

What's SO FASCINATING about all this to me, is I deeply believe that one of the key factors in what makes The Beatles music so unique and compelling is that both the songwriters experienced psychological strain from the tension b/t their parochial socially-defensive "masculine" pride, and their sensitive "feminine" core, the latter of which they were able to express in the unburdened emotionality of their music. The reason I care about doing these totally unhinged psych analyses is because I do think it reveals something about the underpinnings of the music, as well as the reasons why the band was such a hysteria-inducing phenomenon (the rise of psychology, imo, is almost as important as the rise of industrialization as a defining factor of the modern and postmodern eras; mass psychology can be understood and wielded in precise ways, and The Beatles were one of the first empires built on that). The subconscious drives caused by this tension have been ENDLESSLY picked apart re: John's psyche, but Paul's "mirrored" issues are very under-discussed (mostly b/c he's still alive so people are a little more leery about putting him on the "couch" as a historical figure). 'Body Count', intentionally or not, painted a portrait to me of someone who was drowning in their own ill-fitting celebrity "suit", collapsing under the weight of "Being" "Paul McCartney". A guy who desperately needed some sort of space to be vulnerable without feeling emasculated for doing it. By 1968, there was no one in his life anymore - and maybe there hadn't been for a while, or ever - who was giving him this space.

In other words: the thing he needed to avoid going "stark raving queer and killing himself" was simply someone who would love him 'after the ball'.

EDIT: read the comments for further clarification and discussion! ;)

#/ #// #/// #//// #///// #the beatles #mccharmley #analysis #long post #Talking About Paul The Way I Talk About John lmfao #Taking Tabloid Bullshit Seriously #(if not literally) #*gets out my fake spectacles and jumps into the psychiatry armchair* #idk if i laid out my thoughts v well here but i hope it satisfied all the people who asked #i also tried to warn what genre of post it was for those who hate this kinda thing lol #i feel like i have more to say re: how toxic 'The Beatle' facade got for all of them by this point #and paul and john's mirrored post-india breakdowns #but francie's perspective is specifically on how it felt to be the girl he used to divebomb his relationship with jane asher SO

[btsqualityy]

Assuage: Chapter 14

Yoongi x Reader

Genre: ABO (Alpha/Beta/Omega) dynamics, angst, fluff, smut, enemies to lovers

Warnings: An instance of violence (someone gets punched), brief mentions of war, and symptoms of pre-heat (which is somewhat similar to PMS but still, I felt the need to mention it lol)

A week later, you were absolutely fucking miserable. 

It seemed like you hadn’t had a second to breathe unless you were asleep because you had been so busy at the infirmary, treating a multitude of colds since it was due to snow any day now and even delivering the babies of two Omegas and making sure that they were recovering well after giving birth. Because of your busy schedule, you hadn’t been able to see Yoongi much because he had to work and was now also helping with patrol duty and you missed him a lot. On top of all of that, your pre-heat started so everything you had been feeling only seemed to be magnified by ten.

So in short, you were extremely fucking miserable. 

“You know, I’m gonna need you to hurry the fuck up and get some heat knots because you’re a bitch during pre-heat,” Taehyung laughed as he sat in your chair in your office, making you roll your eyes as you cleaned off some equipment. 

“Bold of you to assume that I’m gonna get some knots during my heat,” you huffed.

“Oh please, judging from the way that you just stopped smelling overwhelmingly like Yoongi and it’s been over a week since you said the two of you spent any significant amount of time together, he’s definitely not gonna be able to resist your scent during your heat,” Taehyung said. “And that’ll be a good thing because you’re hella cranky.”

“You know, everyone doesn’t get their attitude magically fixed when they get a knot like you do,” you pointed out with a smirk. 

“If they were getting a knot like Jungkook’s, they definitely would,” Taehyung laughed, which made you gag from the mental image that you got. 

“Did you come see me to keep me company or just to fucking annoy me?” You wondered as you finished with your equipment, turning around to face him afterwards. “And get the hell out of my chair!”

“Yeah, someone needs to call Yoongi hyung right now to come get you,” Taehyung giggled as he stood up from the chair and stepped around your desk.

“No need to call him, I’m meeting up with him right now actually,” you smiled as you glanced at the clock on the wall, seeing that it was finally the end of your shift for the day. 

“Is this your last shift before your heat?” Taehyung wondered and you nodded as you grabbed your jacket, pulling it on and zipping it up. 

“Yep. I’m not exactly sure when my heat is gonna hit but it’s soon and I’d rather it not happen here at work,” you grimaced as you motioned for Taehyung to follow you, taking a second to turn off the lights before shutting and locking the door to your office. “And being around Yoongi isn’t gonna help it either.”

“Are you gonna ask Yoongi hyung to spend your heat with you?” Taehyung questioned as the two of you walked down the hallway to the entrance of the infirmary.

“Damn, you’re so nosy,” you huffed out a laugh, waiting for Taehyung to push the doors open for you and let you walk out first before following behind you. “But yes, I am.”

“Hey, I got that from Mom so it’s not my fault,” he shrugged, making you smile because you could remember when your mom used to have Taehyung sneak around and gather gossip for her. 

“I’m gonna tell him about me too,” you revealed, and Taehyung’s eyes widened.

“Seriously?” He gaped.

“Yeah. I wanna tell him before my heat because he’ll probably be able to notice something off by my scent when it starts,” you told him.

“True,” Taehyung nodded. “It’ll be good for him to finally know, though.” Just as the two of you walked down the steps of the infirmary, you were surprised to see Sehun walking up to the two of you. 

“Hello Taehyung,” he greeted him before turning to you. “Hi Y/N-ah.”

“Hey,” Taehyung smiled lightly.

“Hi,” you mumbled.

“I was hoping to catch you,” Sehun began. “I heard some rumors and I was hoping that you could shed some light on them for me.”

“Rumors?” You repeated and Sehun nodded.

“It’s been going around that you’re dating the Prime Alpha, and I just couldn’t believe that given that you accepted my gift a few weeks ago,” Sehun explained.

“Accepted it?” You laughed in disbelief.

“What gift Y/N-ah?” Taehyung asked quietly.

“Sehun here tried to give me a bracelet but instead of actually waiting for me to verbally accept it, he just put it on me and scented me without permission in the process,” you told him.

“You what?” Taehyung grumbled, whipping his head back to look at Sehun. 

“Are you seeing the Prime Alpha?” Sehun demanded to know, completely ignoring Taehyung. 

“Not that it’s any of your business or concern, but yes I am,” you spat, reaching up and pulling the collar of your coat down a little so that Sehun could see the necklace hanging around your neck. 

“You really accepted that gift over mines?” Sehun rasped. “Mines was obviously more well-made.”

“You could’ve given me a fucking diamond for all I care, it wouldn’t change the fact that you basically forced it on me,” you fumed. “And I’d never accept a gift from a misogynistic alpha like you anyways!”

“Now you listen to me, you ungrateful little,-” Sehun sneered as he wrapped his hand around your wrist, starting to move towards you but he didn’t get far because there suddenly was a firm body standing in front of you.

“Get the fuck away from her!” Yoongi growled as he pushed Sehun away, causing him to stumble backwards a few steps. Your eyes widened in surprise, not expecting Yoongi to swoop in like that. 

“You think you’re hot shit just because you’re Prime, asshole?” Sehun chuckled darkly as he straightened up. As he did, you realized that he was getting into position to fight and you knew that Yoongi would rip him to shreds if that happened. 

“I’m not the one who’s going around trying to push up on an Omega that’s clearly taken,” Yoongi shot back. “You see who’s necklace she’s wearing and who’s scent is on her, idiot.”

“You just got here, you don’t get your pick of our women and Omegas,” Sehun complained.

“And that logic is probably why she accepted my gift and not yours, huh?” Yoongi smirked and you couldn’t help the small smile that came onto your face because that was the exact reason why you accepted Yoongi’s gift and not Sehun’s.

“I’m gonna kick your ass Min!” Sehun exploded but before you or Yoongi could say anything, Taehyung stepped forwards and stood in between the two of them.

“Sehun, don’t be a knot head,” Taehyung chastised him. “Yoongi’s Prime, he’ll kill you with very little effort.”

“You better listen to the kid,” Yoongi grumbled. 

“I don’t give a fuck! He thinks he can just come in here and steal the attention of all the Omegas and end up with one of the most desired ones?! It’s bullshit!” Sehun exclaimed.

“Y/N made her choice and that has nothing to do with Yoongi. You know that but you’re just misdirecting your anger,” Taehyung told him. “You’ve been trying to get with Y/N for years now so trust me when I say that if she really wanted to be with you, then she would’ve accepted you a long time ago.” Sehun then looked at you for confirmation and you just shrugged before nodding your head.

“Fine,” Sehun relented, sending a harsh glare in Yoongi’s direction before turning to walk away. Before he could though, Yoongi placed his hand on his shoulder and forced him to turn around before landing a solid punch right against his jaw.

“Yoongi!” You gasped, immediately reaching forward and pulling him away from Sehun, who had fallen onto the ground from the force of the blow.

“If you ever touch her again,” Yoongi began in a dark voice. “I will literally break every single one of your fingers so that you can never touch anyone again. You understand that?” Sehun just glared up at Yoongi without answering him, which only served to further irritate Yoongi. “I really suggest that you fucking answer me because I’m two seconds away from strangling you, dumb ass.”

“Understood,” Sehun finally uttered, and you could see the tension leave Yoongi’s shoulders as he relaxed. Sehun managed to stumble to his feet and stagger away, while both you and Taehyung turned to look at Yoongi with matching looks of amazement. 

“What?” Yoongi shrugged.

“Is it bad that I kind of wanted to see you kill him?” Taehyung chuckled.

“Trust me, I wanted to but not in front of Y/N-ah,” Yoongi admitted. He turned to face you completely, reaching out and taking ahold of both of your hands. “You’re ok right? He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” you assured him. “He was just being a fucking knot head. How’d you swoop in like that?”

“I was on my way here to meet you like we agreed, and I saw that dumbass,” Yoongi huffed. “I recognized his scent from that fucking bracelet so I figured that he was probably bothering you and he only confirmed it when he fucking grabbed you.”

“My hero,” you cooed with a smile as you moved closer to him, rubbing your nose along the scent gland on his neck. 

“Well, I’m gonna go before the pheromones' that Y/N-ah is emitting make me choke,” Taehyung gagged. “See you two in a few days.”

“Bye,” Yoongi said and you just threw your hand up at Taehyung, too focused on trying to cover Yoongi in your scent. “Baby? You alright?”

“I’m in pre-heat,” you admitted. 

“Ah, that’s why you’re so touchy,” Yoongi laughed. “You wanna go to my place or yours?”

“Uh, yours,” you said. “Wanna smell like you.”

“Ok, let’s go,” Yoongi said, chuckling when you wouldn’t let go of him even when he began to walk.

......................................

“I have a surprise for you,” Yoongi said as he led you down the hallway to his bedroom. After getting to his cabin and allowing him to feed you some dinner, he managed to get you to pull your nose out of his neck in order to show you something.

“What is it?” You wondered. Instead of answering you, he just opened his bedroom door and your mouth dropped open a little because sitting on his bed were two large piles of multiple blankets.

“You bought these for me?” You asked as you walked over to the bed, reaching out and letting your hands run over the material and your Omega preened when you felt how soft they were.

“Well, you said that you wanted them and I wanted you to be able to build a nest here,” he told you as he walked over to stand next to you. You then turned to him, setting your hands on his cheeks before pressing a firm kiss against this lips.

“Thank you,” you smiled. “I love them.”

“Wanna make your nest?” Yoongi suggested and you nodded immediately before setting to work. Embarrassingly enough, it took you way longer than it usually did to make the nest because you couldn’t stop yourself from pausing every so often and just enjoying how soft the material of the blankets was against your hands. Once you were finally done though, you didn’t hesitate to climb onto the bed, making yourself comfortable as you laid back against the headboard.

“Come get in,” you whined as you extended your arms, making Yoongi laugh as he climbed onto the bed as well, settling his body down next to yours.

“You know, I think I like you more during pre-heat,” Yoongi murmured, watching as you snuggled into his side. “You’re so cute.”

“I’ll still kick your ass Yoongi, don’t tempt me,” you warned him, rolling your eyes when he just laughed out loud. “But speaking of my heat, I wanted to ask if you would be willing to spend it with me?”

“I’d be honored baby,” he smiled which made you smile as well. “I was hoping that you’d ask.”

“Before that though, I have some things that I need to be honest with you about,” you said as you sat up a little, and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion because he could sense how serious you had gotten.

“Ok, go ahead,” he said.

“Well, you know that I’m an Omega,” you began and Yoongi nodded. “But I’m, uh, I’m Prime.”

“Wait, what?” Yoongi chuckled in disbelief. “No you’re not.”

“I definitely am,” you insisted. 

“But Prime Omegas are rare.”

“Rare doesn’t mean obsolete,” you giggled and Yoongi took a second to think about it. Remembering back to how you took that deer down, how strong you are and how you’ve been stubborn as hell since the day that he met you, it all actually made sense.

“That’s what the book meant by your presentation being special,” Yoongi whispered to himself as the pieces all came together.

“My presentation?” You echoed. “What do you know about my presentation?”

“That day that you and Hyorin came into the hardware shop to put in the order for her crib and you told me that I should brush up on the pack history, I had Taehyung show me later that night,” Yoongi revealed. “I read about your parents getting together and having you and Namjoon and adopting Taehyung, and Namjoon’s presentation but when I got to yours, Taehyung stopped me from reading any further.”

“He stopped you because me being Prime isn’t common knowledge to anyone that was born outside of the pack,” you told him.

“Why?”

“For a few different reasons,” you shrugged. “Mostly though, I didn't want anyone coming into the pack and trying to stage a coup just to get me to mate with them because I’m Prime and they think that I’ll be able to have good pups because of it.”

“But biologically, any pups that you have will be stronger and healthier than a pup born to non Prime parents,” Yoongi chuckled.

“I’m a doctor so I do know that,” you replied while rolling your eyes. “But that’s not all I am and it’s not all I want to be.”

“That’s understandable,” he agreed, his eyes widening immediately after when he realized something else. “Wait, you’re supposed to be Pack Omega!” 

In most families, if one of their children presented as Prime, the Prime child often automatically became the next leader of the pack whenever their parents died or retired. This was because it was well known that the Prime child would most likely end up seriously injuring and/or killing their siblings. 

“I was wondering how long it was gonna take you to put that together,” you giggled.

“Why aren’t you?” He questioned. “Did you lose in ritual combat?”

“Yoongi, look at me,” you deadpanned. “Do you really think I lost? And to Namjoon and Tae, of all people?”

“Well, it was the only thing I could guess,” Yoongi shrugged. 

“I didn’t lose, I gave the position to Namjoon willingly,” you revealed. “We didn’t even have the fight.”

“Why did you do that?” Yoongi gasped. “That was your birthright.”

“Ok, so I’m gonna have to go back a little to explain this. In the book that Taehyung showed you, did you read about how my dad beat his sister in ritual combat way back in the early 90s?” You asked and Yoongi nodded in affirmation. “My dad was a Prime Alpha but he still fought his sister, who is Jin’s mom by the way, because he wanted to show the pack that he could earn the position of being the leader. He didn’t want to have the position of being Pack Alpha just because he was born Prime, and he taught that to us as well.”

“So, does that mean that you didn’t want it?” 

“The opposite, actually,” you smiled. “I had always looked up to my dad so I wanted to become the leader of the pack just like he was and then when I presented as Prime Omega, I was so excited. My dad and mom used to always say that they didn’t play favorites but they would take me on treaty trips to other packs with them and they were basically grooming me to take over.”

“What about Taehyung and Namjoon?” Yoongi wondered. “How did they feel about you presenting as Prime?”

“Their reaction was mixed,” you shrugged. “Tae never really wanted to lead the pack anyways, so he didn’t care. Namjoon did though, but I think for him, it was more about him being an Alpha and not wanting to lose the position to his little sister but he still knew that he was going to lose regardless. Despite that, we had all agreed that even though I was Prime, we were still going to fight for the position,” you explained. 

“So, what changed?”

“Our parents getting killed is what changed,” you told him. “The Great Pack War started literally right after that and there just was no time for a ritual combat ceremony to be held the way that it should be, not when the pack was just trying to survive. Namjoon fought for the full two years that the war happened, I fought for a little less than a year, and Taehyung stayed here to try and help guide the pack. I didn’t want to go but when it started to look like the pack was going to lose, everyone strongly suggested that I could be of major help because I’m Prime.”

“That explains why you hate the war so much,” Yoongi murmured. “You didn’t feel like you had a choice.”

“Exactly,” you confirmed. “Once the war was over, I was still so angry and hurt about my parents and I knew that I wouldn’t be able to be the great leader that my dad was while I was like that so I told Namjoon that he could have the position.”

“And he just accepted it?” Yoongi chuckled. “He doesn’t seem like the type to easily give in.”

“He’s not and he did try to fight me about it,” you giggled. “But I told him that either he could take it or I was going to give it to Tae and we all know that Tae does whatever the hell he wants so Joon wasn’t going to let that happen.”

“I’m surprised that Taehyung didn’t have anything to say about that, even though he didn’t want it,” Yoongi muttered as he reached over and grabbing your hands, intertwining your fingers with his. 

“He bitched about it for a while but only because I went to Joon first and not him. We all knew it was the best choice though,” you shrugged. “Joon’s extremely smart, caring and kind hearted almost to a fault, he loves the pack as much as I do, and he was the oldest anyways so it made sense.”

“Wow,” Yoongi huffed in amazement as the weight of everything you had told him really began to settle in. 

“Yoongi, I know it’s a lot to take in but I really need to know that you’re ok with this,” you told him. 

“What, with you being Prime?” He scoffed. “I don’t care about that.”

“Not just that, but also with the fact that I’m never going to be Pack Omega,” you said. “I’ve dated guys before, mostly from outside of the pack, who would get upset when they realized that I don’t have any intention of ever trying to take the position back from Namjoon.”

“Hey, that’s just fine with me,” Yoongi promised. “My old pack was full of power hungry knot heads and I’ve seen how that can change people and tear apart relationships and that’s not me, ok? That’s not what I want.”

“Are you sure?

“More than,” he swore, leaning forward and pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “After all the shit I’ve been through over the years, I just want peace and I’ve found that here, with you so I’m more than happy.”

“Me too,” you smiled, moving forward and kissing him again. After a few seconds, the both of you pulled away and Yoongi looked at you quizzically. “What?”

“I just can’t believe that I couldn’t tell from your scent that you were Prime,” he sighed. “I feel a little stupid.”

“Don’t beat yourself up about it,” you laughed. “It can be hard to tell if you’ve never met a Prime Omega before, because you don’t have anything to compare the scent to.”

“It makes sense though, especially as to why you smell so fucking good,” he smirked as he leaned forward, pressing a few open mouthed kisses along your scent gland. Your eyes fluttered shut and you almost let out a moan because of how good it felt, but you knew that was only because you were in pre-heat and sensitive as all hell.

“That could just be the pre-heat,” you breathlessly pointed out.

“Nah, you always smell this good,” he muttered and you just rolled your eyes in response. 

“I’m in pre-heat, so you don’t have to butter me up,” you grumbled. He pulled away from your neck then, looking down at you with a soft smile.

“You gonna let me take care of you?” He hummed, letting his nose rub against yours. “Gonna let me help you through your heat?”

“Please,” you whispered.

“I got you baby,” he promised before smashing his lips onto yours. 

......................................

Tag List:  @jikook-enthusiasts @veryuniquenamegoeshere @seolarsyj @littlrmills14-blog @preciouschimine @kt-rny @copenhagenspirit

#bts #bangtanarmynet #bts reactions #bts abo #bts suga #bts yoongi #yoongi x reader #suga x reader #yoongi abo #suga abo #yoongi smut #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst #suga smut #suga fluff #suga angst #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #bts x reader

[redspiderling]

Could you please stop promoting ScarJo? Yes the movie is good but she's still an Allen and Whedon apologist.

Hi anon!

Listen, first of all, the block/unfollow button is there for a reason. You really don't have to read my stuff and I say this kindly. I know I don't like coming across content that doesn't sit well with me, and I personally use that block button liberally so, honestly, no hard feelings. The rest under the cut, because again, not everyone is interested in this type of rant.

Why is it so hard for people to understand that you can appreciate one aspect of someone's personality, but not agree with every word that's coming out of their mouths? Or be able to recognise that human beings can make mistakes. And sometimes even make them again 'cause... They're stupid humans?

To be specific, sure, if I were in her shoes I might not have supported Allen publicly. But I'm not in her shoes. I don't know what it's like to have a close friend be so despised by the general public, and being asked to offer an opinion on the subject. I don't know what my stance would be and frankly, I don't particularly care about hers either. It's not impacting anyone no matter what she says, and the only reason she gets asked in the first place is because the journos know that no matter what she says, it will sell. Maybe it's an act of defiance on her part, a "fuck you, you won't bully me into a pre-approved answer, you have no power over me" thing. Fuck if I know, makes 0 difference either way.

She's never taken a stand against abuse victims, has been very vocal about the importance of women feeling safe enough to come forward with cases of abuse, has put money where her mouth is with donations, and so far the content she's producing is making a positive impact. She herself isn't an abuser, or generally a person who is just so despicable that I couldn't in good conscience support her work.

Hell, I've been bitching about the Russos for the longest time because they're a prime example of privilege bringing success without talent, but if they ever make a good movie I'll say it's good.

Beyond that, it's just gossip fodder. I find Whedon disgusting, but I've never met him, never was required to put in a good word for him for the sake of professionalism (and if you haven't had to bite your tongue and smile and say a good word for co-workers or supervisors you despise for the sake of your job, lucky you). But literally, every single person who's ever collaborated with Whedon (and not just Whedon, all Hollywood abusers) has had to smile and say the right stuff when the cameras are on. When these people are uncovered as racist, or sexist, etc, it's a matter of PR- what their former collaborators will say. This is why everyone -quite rightly- thinks of Hollywood as Fake™. Because it is. Most of Hollywood will say the PR thing to get rid of the press, and move on. That's just it.

So, having said all of that, why on Earth should I not thank Scarlett Johansson for being almost singlehandedly responsible for the production of a movie I've been begging to see for over a decade? And she didn't just do that, she helped a lot of women further their careers in the industry in the process, and she did it productively, and with a lot of support and respect towards them.

Finally, I'd like to point out that unlike her, I'm not under constant scrutiny from the entire world 24/7, because if I were I'm pretty sure I'd get cancelled every other day. I say a lot of stupid shit I don't think through.

And even if she did think it through and went "no, I think Whedon was a good director when I worked with him so I'll stick by that statement"... And? Not the best PR, for sure, but like... Who gives a shit?

You need to realise that all this bullshit is only real on social media, and have absolutely no influence in people's lives whatsoever. If it did Woody Allen would be in prison, regardless of whether he's guilty or not.

If you think "cancelling" a celebrity online for saying stupid shit is making an impact, sorry to break it to you but that's not how it works. Part of the reason why Scarlett doesn't give a fuck about what the public says about her, is the fact that it doesn't matter. You think she worked hard to build a ridiculously successful career all her life to throw it away with stupid comments? Or do you think she doesn't have the resources to get the best PR agency in the world to create the perfect illusion for her, if she wanted to? She just doesn't give a single flying fuck, about any of it.

So, in conclusion, please, feel free to despise Scarlett Johansson to your heart's content. I've never gone into anybody's space who says they don't like her for whatever reason and asked them to stop, everybody's entitled to their opinion, that's what blogs are for.

Best advice I can give you anon: If you don't like people's posts online, look at something else.

#the same vent #anons #asks #is this a spoiler? #my god I've become paranoid

[reallivegeekgirl]

StanQuest

Something clicked on in my brain a couple months ago and suddenly Sebastian Stan became the hottest man alive. So I decided to watch everything he’s ever been in. A friend and I called it StanQuest.

Here are my spoiler-free reviews for anyone considering something similar (in inverse chronological order starting with latest works and going back in time. The stars are an overall rating of the work, not of Sebastian’s performance.

This only lists things I could find streaming for free or a price I was willing to pay. It does not count after credits scenes, music videos, or works in which he was uncredited.

The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (2021) - TV show - ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ - This started it all. I very much enjoyed it. Good balance of humor and action, heart and heroics. I’ve watched it four times already, and will watch it again. Bucky Barnes is my favorite character of his and this is my favorite story of Bucky's so far. I can’t wait to see what he does next. (And I have a lot to say about how they treat his trauma in this show. I’ve definitely written about it before and may again.)

Monday (2020) - Movie - ⭐⭐⭐ - This is the one where he gets naked. If that’s all you’re looking for, enjoy. It was a very realistic portrayal of a relationship between two deeply flawed people. It can get depressing. But hey, penis.

The Devil All the Time (2020) - Movie - ⭐⭐⭐⭐ - If you think Monday is depressing, this movie says “hold my beer”. But something about it is just captivating. It’s really disturbing, and if you’ve ever been screwed over by American Evangelical Christianity it might be more disturbing. Still, I’ve watched it twice. And as much of a bastard as Lee Bodecker is, he also looks really cuddly. He’s just barely in it.

The Last Full Measure (2019) - Movie - ⭐⭐⭐⭐ - You will cry. A lot. It’s based on a true story. Sebastian plays a man who cares more about his career than this weird quest dumped on his desk by his boss, but changes his mind and his heart as he investigates why a war hero was denied a medal of honor 34 years before. Definitely recommend.

Endings, Beginnings (2019) - Movie - ⭐⭐⭐⭐ - One of two love interests in the complicated life of Shailene Woodley’s Daphne, Sebastian is an adorable mess. The editing is interesting and fresh feeling. Watch it and you’ll see what I mean. Fair amount of sex in this movie, and you see his butt. It’s a very nice butt. I’ve watched this one a few times so far.

Avengers: Endgame (2019) - Movie - ⭐⭐ - There is no reason to watch this movie if you’re not familiar with at least most of the rest of the MCU. It plays merry hob with the rules of time travel, and only makes sense if you don’t really think about it. In my opinion, the ending is really freaking stupid comsidering his character’s history, but at least it sets up TFatWS, which was amazing.

We Have Always Lived in the Castle (2018) - Movie - ⭐ - If you’re into movies that are creepy but also almost nothing happens for most of the movie, this is the one for you. Sebastian is handsome as hell, but also a complete asshole. As fine as he is, I’m not gonna watch this again. I fucking hated it.

Destroyer (2018) - Movie - ⭐⭐- I had a hard time paying attention to the plot because it seemed like they made this movie just to get Nicole Kidman an Oscar nomination for wearing ugly makeup and playing a complete mess of a person. It’s a fine movie, and all of the performances are good. Sebastian looks surprisingly good with the short hair and goatee. Ultimately, the plot is depressing and the whole movie seems kind of pointless.

Avengers: Infinity War (2018) - Movie - ⭐⭐- Again, no reason to watch this if you aren’t already familiar with all the movies leading up to it. It’s long and the villain looks like Grimace and a California Raisin had an evil baby. The ending made me scream with frustration that I had to wait until the next one came out. Now I just watch them back-to-back if I watch them at all. It’s not a good movie, but it is part of a long-form story that I enjoy in general.

I’m Not Here (2017) - Movie - ⭐⭐- Another depressing one. Told over the course of one man’s terrible life, it’s a sad account of how much your parents can fuck you up. Sebastian portrays the middle part of the man’s life. J.K. Simmons plays the current day part and unreliable narrator.. Do not watch unless you are fully prepared to be sad for a really long time after.

I, Tonya (2017) - Movie - ⭐⭐⭐- This movie is hilarious. I mean, the true story is insane and really stupid. The spousal abuse is hard to watch, and Sebastian’s mustache in this is a war crime. But the acting is great and it’s a very engaging movie. The parts that aren’t horrifying are pretty funny.

Logan Lucky (2017) - Movie - ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ - Watch. This. Movie. Sebastian Stan is only in it a little, but it’s a really fun, clever caper/heist movie and everyone in it is fantastic. I don’t want to say anything else about it if you’re going in fresh. I’ll be rewatching this one a lot

Captain America: Civil War (2016) - Movie - ⭐⭐⭐⭐ - If you ignore how kind of silly the conflict over the Sokovia Accords is, this is a good Marvel movie. Sebastian gets a lot of screen time because Bucky is the more pressing concern/urgent point of contention than the Accords. Bucky is my favorite character of his partly because of this movie.

The Martian (2015) - Movie - ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ - I’m watching it(again) as I’m typing this. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve watched it. Sebastian Stan isn’t in it very much, but he’s very cute and so is his little story arc. Mostly I watch it because Ridley Scott made a fantastic movie. If you can get your hands on the Blu-Ray, it comes with a ton of extras. They made a very complete story that isn’t all seen in the movie. A lot of it is stuff about Mars, but there are also extra “crew” interviews, so there’s another chance to see more of Sebastian’s character.

Ricki and the Flash (2015) - Movie - ⭐⭐⭐⭐ - He’s not in this very much, but he’s very cute when he does appear. It’s all about the relationship between Ricki and her daughter. Definitely rewatchable. Meryl Streep is fantastic, because she’s Meryl Streep.

The Bronze (2015) - Movie - ⭐ - This is not a good movie. It’s about Olympic gymnastics, so it might be slightly more interesting right now while the Olympics are happening. Sebastian isn’t in it a lot, but his performance is certainly… memorable. Weirdest sex scene I’ve ever seen. Worth watching just for that.

Captain America: The Winter Soldier (2014) - Movie - ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ - This is the one I can watch over and over. I bought a Winter Soldier face mask for when I need to feel like a badass. Bucky’s story is really sad, but he’s also extremely sexy with the metal arm and determined walk.

Once Upon a Time (2012-2013) - TV Show - ⭐⭐⭐ - This show is so stupid, but it’s also fun. If you haven’t seen it, the premise is that fairy tale characters are real and live in another land. Snow White’s Evil Queen casts a spell to transport a bunch of them to a town she creates in Maine called Storybrooke, and gives them all fake memories so she can be mayor and watch them all not remember who they are. Sebastian plays Jefferson, a.k.a. The Mad Hatter. He’s in a few episodes in season 1 and 2, and doesn’t get a ton of screen time, but he’s really cute and tragic as Jefferson. It probably helps to watch the whole first season just to understand his episodes, but that’s up to your tolerance for weird shit. Note: IMDB says he’s in an episode uncredited, but I’ve watched it and didn’t see him anywhere in that one.

Labyrinth (2012) - TV Mini-Series - ⭐⭐⭐ - Two episodes that tell a complete story. Sebastian isn’t in this one a whole lot, but he is adorable. It’s a strange story about religious stuff and a sort of Holy Grail that’s three books. It’s hard to describe. It’s on Amazon Prime right now, but they’re taking it down August 8, 2021, so watch it while you can.

The Apparition (2012) - Movie - ⭐ - If you like horror movies, you might like this. I did not. From what I understand, it’s not a very good horror movie. Watch with caution and expect it to suck.

Political Animals (2012) - TV Mini-Series - ⭐⭐⭐⭐ - I had to buy this through Apple and watch it on a Mac, but it was worth it. Sebastian plays TJ Hammond, the out gay son of a former American president who is clearly based on Bill Clinton. Sigorney Weaver plays the former first lady and current secretary of state. TJ struggles with addiction and relationship problems. His performance is heart-wrenching. The whole show is pretty great. I wish there was more of it.

Gone (2012) - Movie - ⭐⭐⭐ - More of a psychological thriller than a horror movie. Sebastian has a small amount of screen time as the worried boyfriend. Amanda Seyfried is good. She carries the film well on her own.

Captain America: The First Avenger (2011) - Movie - ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ - If you haven’t seen this yet, I’d like to know what it’s like under your rock. This is a movie I can rewatch a lot, and have. I 100% cried in the theater. Sebastian looks fantastic in uniform as Bucky Barnes. This is his introduction and the start of his ultimately tragic story (before he’s saved by his best friend, again).

Black Swan (2010) - Movie - ⭐⭐⭐⭐ - Sebastian is barely in this. He’s basically just in one scene in a dance club. But I watched it to try to complete StanQuest, and I had seen it before. It’s a good movie, but might induce some nightmares, depending on what scares you. If Natalie Portman didn’t at least get a nomination for an award she was robbed.

Gossip Girl (2007-2010) - TV Show - ⭐⭐ - Carter Baizen is a little shit. The episodes with Sebastian in them might have made more sense if I watched the show from the beginning, but I didn’t want to. His character is an asshole, but a very cute one.

Hot Tub Time Machine (2010) - Movie - ⭐⭐⭐- The people who made this movie are bad at math, and their rules of time travel are sketchy at best, but it is funny and entertaining. Sebastian plays a ski patrol bro who’s paranoid about the Russians, which is hilarious irony to me. Worth watching if you want to laugh at something dumb.

Kings (2009) - TV Show - ⭐⭐⭐- Sebastian plays Jack Benjamin, the closeted gay son of the king of a fictional place. It’s loosely based on the David and Goliath story from the Bible. Sebastian is so sad and so gay. His family makes his life a living hell. Ian McShane is a force of nature in this. It’s only one season. I’ve watched it twice. I will watch it again.

Spread (2009) - Movie - no stars - This movie was practically unwatchable. It stars Ashton Kutcher and Anne Heche as a romantic couple, I guess? I ended up just skipping to Sebastian’s scenes and only watching those. Still painful.

The Covenant (2006) - Movie - ⭐⭐⭐ - This movie is so fuckig stupid, and I will watch it a ridiculous number of times. It’s about magic and teenagers, like The Craft for boys. Nothing about it makes sense. It’s terrible, almost irredeemable, but an evil Sebastian with magic powers is a siren song that will make me steer my boat right into the rocks.

And there you have it. There are a bunch of earlier things on IMDB that I just can’t find or don’t want to pay to rent. Maybe some day I’ll watch them and add them to this list.

#sebastian stan #bucky barnes #the winter soldier #the falcon and the winter soldier #james buchanan barnes #monday: movie #the devil all the time #the last full measure #we have always lived in the castle #destroyer #endings beginnings #i'm not here #i tonya #logan lucky #ricki and the flash #the martian #the bronze #once upon a time #the covenant #spread #kings: show #Labyrinth: show #hot tub time machine #black swan #gossip girl #gone: movie #political animals #the apparition #movie reviews #celebrity crushes

[ushioink]

(Part 2 of Careful,)

The lecture hall is damp from boredom and like minded individuals, and so she puts herself in a spot slightly to the left, in the back where it’s a bit hidden from the nosiness of the students in her History class. She waits for Mrs. Kang to appear as she tinkers with her phone, searching through her images and playing games, considering the internet is banned from inside the actual classrooms for the benefits of busybodies like herself.

Mrs. Kang enters in the same time as the last group of students do, and she stares them down so hard that they quickly skittle down, thanking God that she, from all professors, don’t have that rule in excluding students that come after her. She stares at the glared at students with sick amusement, opening her laptop and turning it on to ready herself in notes taking. However, her small tinge of positive amusement is destroyed when a heavy body slides himself so casually on her seat, the one thing that she had happily bragged to own herself. She looks to the abhorrent nuisance that invaded her personal space, and her neutral face expression shifts into an annoyed one. Seeing this, Baekhyun just grins prettily at her, his straight teeth glinting like diamonds. She wants to gouge his intestines out.

“What are you doing?” She looks down at her laptop in feigned disinterest, even though her eyebrows constantly shift around in a narrow. “No, seriously, what the heck are you doing?”

“Shh, we’re in a lecture hall,” he puts a tall and pretty finger on his lips. “Mrs. Kang had not punished you before because you’re her favorite student, but I won’t take my chances. She knows who I am. I’ve made a ruckus or two,” he seems very proud of this, his eyes flashing smugly, “and I’ve been kicked out of her class a lot. So shush, let me concentrate.”

“All the more reasons for you to fuck off,” she tilts her head a little to the side so she can hiss at him, her hands beginning to type quickly as Mrs. Kang begins her lecture. “I’d rather not be seen here with you. Also, you’re not here to concentrate. You’re here to rip the skin out of my body.” She pretends to shiver violently.

He snickers, and it comes out a little loud. Mrs Kang instantly stops her exciting monologuing (it’s rare to find someone who manages to speak so boringly, and yet excitedly at the same time, but she does so perfectly) to whip her head around, her eyes hawk-like and deadly.

“I hear snickering!” She yells. “Who dares laughing in my class?”

Baekhyun instantly pretends to be an innocent listener, his eyes big and preposterously uncanny. Mrs. Kang ravishes the students with her narrowed, kohl eyes.

“Just because you give me a vague face, doesn’t mean I won’t find you.” The teacher threatens again. Still, no one gives her any response.

She’s a bit astonished that none of the nearby students who actually heard Baekhyun snicker were telling on him. But the surprise quickly vanishes when she looks around at their faces, every single one avoiding Baekhyun’s amused eyes, threat very clear under.

She rolls her eyes.

Mrs. Kang kinda mellows over once no one confesses and she no longer hears laughter, and resumes her lecture with the same vindictive tone that she has been using in the start of the semester.

Immediately after her back is to the class, Baekhyun slides his butt closer to her, until their thighs are a brush away. She gives him a creeped out look, and he simply leans against the table on his elbow, putting his head on his palm. He grins, or smirks. His lips only curl a little, and the devilish glint in his eyes makes him appear dangerous, so she goes with smirking. He is smirking, indeed. For a second, she understands why people are afraid of him. Tremors kinda bloom in her body, but she pushes the irrational emotion out of her system quickly. She turns to the board, focusing on the professor.

Soon, she realizes that he isn’t looking away. He’s staring at her in the same mischievous yet intolerable way. She gives him a thin-lipped smile, apparent in its annoyance. Her eyes wide and irritated. His eyes only twinkle more in that stupid, attractive glint of his that’s entirely evil.

“Yes? Is there something you need, dumbass?” She sighs.

He nods seriously, his face grave. “Yes. I was wondering if you’d be my Twin Flame. The walls to my well. The stone to my heart. The poison to my soul. Oh, be my favorite nightmare.”

She takes one of her blue pens and flicks it on his forehead. It flops pathetically on the floor. He sniggers again - much more quietly - and rubs his surely reddening spot.

“Seriously, I want nothing. I’m just quietly staring at you.”

“For what reason, oh please tell, you’re staring at me for?” She leans towards him as if potentially saying something secretive. “Do you know that staring so intently at someone’s eyes can affect their chakra? So, I’ll just stare right back at you hoping that my laser eyes can negatively make you bend over this desk. I gotta tell you, I have very strong chakra.”

He furrows his eyebrows weirdly. “You believe in this bullshit?”

Her eyes widen a little, but she quickly composes herself to squint instead. “No, I don’t. But I thought someone like you might.”

“I can’t help but have the slightest conclusion that you just called me a loser, which hurts my feelings. It really does.”

“Does it? And here I thought hurting your feelings would require more effort.” She gives him a mocking smile, and then turns to the professor with her default blank face.

He stares at her, a little amused at her odd shenanigans, and wonders how someone like her had slipped from under his eyes. He’s usually a quiet person that makes it his daily struggle to stare people down to scare them, but to see her, a person that’s so easily irritated for completely different reasons than his amusement actually makes him... excited. He hasn’t really considered annoying her today because of their promise to work on their assignment (or just his) but once he came inside the classroom, he remembered her amusing response of yesterday and subconsciously found himself going to her row, seating himself comfortably next to her.

He continues to annoy her throughout the lecture by poking on her shoulder when she concentrates and breaks her focus, or kicking her shin from under the table whenever she’s pulling a funny look at the utter shit Mrs. Kang is spouting so she’d adjust her bold facials into a neutral face, of course for her own benefits. He’d even steal pens from her large - very large - pen collection, throwing the used pen away from her grabby hands only to steal another one right under her nose. She’s disappointed in herself. She thought she has great reflexes, but she’s considered piss poor in comparison to Baekhyun’s fast, dangerous reflexes. Something about his numerous black belts in hapkido, as he easily bragged at her discomforted look towards her stollen utensils.

Of course, she’s hyper aware of the accumulation of stares from everyone piling up her back. She knows she’s being watched; or rather he’s been watched, for some reason their close proximity to one another, and the constant flying arms coming from her part to smack him away has ticked everyone the wrong way. She has been aware, since the start, that his presence so close to her would rise unfiltered attention from nosy students who found it their prime pastime to watch other unsuspecting students. She doesn’t care that much, of course. She has already been a suspect of gossip her entire life for having the personality that she does, but to be stared down at for different reasons than the ones she’s used to... she gotta say. It feels good.

The minute the lecture ends - very, very slowly - she instantly stands up, making her chair squeak. She raises her already collected stuff on her shoulder, turns to a suddenly flustered Baekhyun, and reaches over for his hair. His yelps come quick and excessive, especially when she uses his hair to pull him out of his chair. He complies, of course, so she doesn’t end up ripping his entire hair roots from his head, and follows after her obediently - yet loudly - as she drags him somewhere else. At first he doesn’t say anything, even though he can overpower her easily, because he knows he kinda sorta deserved to be treated like a dog, but the minute he sees her approaching the library (where silence is a requirement he can’t reach) he grabs her wrist and twists her hand as further back as it can go from his hair. It’s her time to yelp.

In response, her claws release his hair from their clutches, and he stands to his full height. Then, he pulls her towards him, or more like jerks her against him in a single gesture, until she bumps roughly into his chest, and pushes her on the wall so she’s stuck between two solid rocks.

She looks up at him with wide eyes. Her heartbeats are racing so fast inside her chest, she’s a little worried she wouldn’t be able to breathe at the end of this escapade. Of course, he looks down at her, his eyes narrowed and dangerous, but still holding a small flicker of childlike smugness. When he’s so close to her like this, she realizes how short she is. At first, she considered him short in comparison to most males in her university, but while he’s pressing her against the library wall like this, she understands that no, he isn’t short.

“Yah,” he calls, but the voice is soft and tender, the kind that makes a prey submit just to be devoured. She refuses to gulp in front of him and instead glares venomously at him. Seeing this, he lowers his face to her, his warm breath falling on her nose, her mouth and chin like waterfalls. “Yah.”

“Is my name yah to you?” She hisses like a snake, giving him her best don’t fuck with me look, even though genuinely, she’s shaking underneath him.

He narrows his eyes at her. “Do you think I let people shove their hands in my hair like that? Do you think people go around dragging me like that?”

She scoffs. She’s burning up from the inside; of course she is. In one hand, she’s not used to being squished like this against walls. In fact, she’s not sure she has ever felt such warmth from a human body encompassing her like this, and she’s not sure the sensation is to her liking. A girl from her background is used to selfish smacks on the head as a meager exposure of emotions, so such little proximity, with a man nevertheless, makes her feel.. strange. He’s not as soft as she first thought of him, as well. He’s all rigidness and soft muscles, and considering she’s as experienced as a squished slug, she’s not sure if that’s a good thing or not. The way he’s staring down at her, like he’s conscious of the fact he might be in the presence of a cheetah hasn’t gone unnoticed by her, and despite his dumb personality, she has to admit that she likes careful people, especially those careful around her. However, she’s not exactly a flower girl. She refuses to be a flower girl, no matter how much respect she has for flower girls.

She lifts her knee and violently connects it to the man’s junk. She watches in sick, fascinated awe as the man’s face changes. It contorts into a painful scrunch, and quickly, he succumbs to the gravitational pull into the floor. He curls in a heap on the ground, moaning in pain. She huffs, brushes her hair from her sweaty neck - for no specific reason, of course - and glares at the watchful crowd. They quickly flush away like toilet water.

A few minutes after Baekhyun’s fall, she looks down at him as if she’s exhausted from his childish antics, and says. “I don’t let people pin me to walls, either. You’re not that special.”

She twists around dramatically - yes, she knows she’s dramatic - and intends to walk inside the library. But a few seconds later, she realizes that she isn’t being followed, so she pauses. She twists back dramatically (again) and narrows her eyes at the dead body on the floor. “Yah, Aren’t you coming? We have stuff to work on, you know.”

-

She yawns monstrously, and drags her heavy legs towards the convenience store a few minutes away from her tiny apartment in the middle of a neighborhood she has troubles remembering the name of. She bows respectfully at the older man owning the store, being on social terms, enough to be yelling at him without taking responsibility to her stupid anger, and walks further inside.

She shuffles around, her legs feelings like a full body sag as she tries to pull her weight up. Considering she has a certain amount of money she can spend on snacks because of her tight budget, she only chooses the most important snacks to her. For instance, she’s a sweet tooth so she gathers as much chocolate, marshmallows, and fluffy jellies as she can, then settles on two medium sized chip bags. She travels to the beverages’ fridge like a disabled elephant, and takes a few bottles of soda. She is not a fan of beer and soju. Those do nothing to tilt her world upside down anyways. To her, they are a waste of money.

Busy going around the ramen section, she doesn’t notice the tall man that enters the shop. She fails to notice the humongous sneeze that he releases either, shivering like a wet dog, sans the wet part. Her eyes are half-lidded with sleep, and her lips are practically swirly like water with how tired she is because of work, so she only gets attuned to his presence when she smacks into his side.

“Ow,” she mutters pathetically, rubbing her forehead with the hand holding the ramen. She raises her eyes to glare at the fucker, because that’s what she’s good at, even though she’s the one who bumped into him, only to falter when she sees Chanyeol. “Chanyeol?”

“Uh, yeah. Hello?” He sounds awkward, his large hands paused around two packets of ramen himself. He stares down at her because he’s a skyscraper, and that’s what skyscrapers do to align to people; and stares back at the ramen. He stares back at her, again, then at the ramen, nervous at seeing her for whatever reason.

She narrows her eyes at him suspiciously. “What the heck are you doing in this convenience store? Or in this neighborhood?”

Chanyeol blinks, “I live here?”

“You don’t sound so sure about that answer.” She continues to narrow her eyes at him.

“Okay?”

She rolls her eyes and shuffle away from him. Noticing that she picked everything she needs, she heads for the register to pay for her things. Oddly enough, Chanyeol’s quick to follow her, standing behind her patiently. She tilts her head backwards so she can peek inconspicuously at him, and sees he’s only holding packets of instant ramen. He notices her trying to act slick, and focuses his big eyes on her. She quickly looks away, feeling a burn in the back of her neck.

She pays, and leaves, walking through the endless night of the day, huffing because her bags ended up being heavier than she expected. However, she’s a strong, independent woman, and so she swallows up her growing whine. But that doesn’t stop her from stomping on the ground as she walks further away from the convenience store.

Her loud, angry stomps doesn’t entirely block her from the steps that’s strangely walking after her. She pauses in her strides to check if she’s really hearing things, and the footsteps behind her pauses as well. She turns around suspiciously and finds Chanyeol standing behind her, a confused look on his face.

“Why’d you suddenly stop?” He asks, and she’d have found the question an okay one if she hadn’t already surrendered herself to the growing suspicion in her belly.

Instead of answering his question, she fires a question of her own. “Why are you following me?”

He tilts his head to the side, and a lock of dark hair falls on his left eye, giving him a sense of innocence that contradicts the tight clothes he’s wearing. His leather pants are so snug against him that she wonders how he can even walk, and his leather boots make him appear taller, if that’s even possible. She’s a bit envious of the large jacket that he’s wearing, making him bigger and helping him against the cold nights of January. She has been dumb enough to forget her jacket at work today, and so she’s forced to walk around shivering like a rat.

After she finishes inspecting him like a creep, and remembering the fact he hadn’t answered her question, she goes on her merry way for some reason, noticing that his own footsteps commenced after her. She takes lefts and turns away from her house, to check if he’s following her, and once she makes clear accusation in her mind that he is following her, she swivels around to glare at him. He looks back, eyes entirely vacant of emotions.

“See? You are following me, listen..” she twiddles her toes inside her flats, instantly nervous at the concept of being followed. “I don’t know who you think I am, and I don’t know who you think you are, but kidnapping unsuspecting victims is wrong. Kidnapping any kind of victims is wrong. See, maybe you are failing your classes, and maybe you don’t have a flourishing sex life, and maybe you are into this bad boy bullshit, but trust me, a felony following after your back is bad. It’s very bad for your resumé. Weren’t you the one so careful about the internal scarring of your heart? A felony is so much worse than that, I gotta tell you.”

Chanyeol’s lips curl at the blunder she’s throwing on his way, her usually glaring eyes now shaking in nervousness. He gathers all of his ramen in one arm so he can throw a large hand on his mouth to stop his growing laughter from bursting out. To see a girl like her showing uncharacteristic nervousness, it’s kind of funny, despite evilly knowing it’s causing her an internal meltdown.

She looks at him carefully, eyes prodding, and she fails to notice the fact his raised hand is to cover his laughter, not to knock her out. She eyes him up and down, putting her large bag of bought goodies on her chest as a secure guard against him, even though he seems like he can smack her unconscious with a simple kiddie slap. She swallows, taking a step back.

“Please,” she whimpers, then clears her throat when it shows that she’s whimpering, “I don’t taste good. I have nothing against cannibals, but I have the thought to consider myself distasteful.”

He calls her name to pull her out of her stupidly amusing fear, and she swallows, lifting her head up in false confidence. She notices that his eyes are twinkling, the same devilish sparkle that she associated Baekhyun with. To see them so similar yet different at the same time is unnerving, but she doesn’t focus on that. She’s a bit terrified to be consumed at the moment to think about anything else.

“Listen,” Chanyeol’s low baritone comes out of his lips, and this time he doesn’t push himself to conceal his smile. “I’m not following you. I’m not going to eat you. I don’t like the meat of innocent women.”

She stares at him suspiciously. “You prefer the meat of innocent men? I’m not judging.”

He rolls his eyes. “I don’t eat people, sweetie.”

She bristles like she has been burned, and she forgets about her flammable fear to give him a cold, deadly look. He falters. “Don’t call me that. Nobody calls me that, Chanyeol.”

He clears his throat, “Right,” he points at the house right behind her, the mirth quickly returning back to his opaque eyes. “My apartment is right behind you. I genuinely was walking home.”

she twists around to observe the house, noticing that it’s a large building with numerous floors. She guesses that he indeed is telling the truth, noticing the small sign on the corner naming the house as a university resident for males. Her face goes all types of colors at having not noticed the actual sign, and she starts to recollect her footsteps to see if she had accidentally just lead the man home. Maybe she is the stalker one. Her embarrassment grows.

She looks back at him, blinking, and he has the audacity to showcase his smug smirk. She clears her throat and squeezes her fingers around her bag, taking a few steps to the side so the giant scraper can get a leeway to enter his home. He does so, but before he can disappear inside; he turns around to give her another amusement-filled look.

She tries to gather her dignity, disliking the fact Chanyeol has seen her on her real act of a little scaredy cat, whether her fear is justified or not, so she clears her throat, swings her bag on her shoulder like a boss, and bellows, “Just so you know, cannibals are disgustingly immoral, whatever immorality is to you. I was just trying to secure myself a safe spot. I do have a lot of judgment against you. Lots and lots of judgments.”

“Good to know that.” Is Chanyeol’s cheeky answer.

She goes home with a stamp of red, crimson blotch all over her face and the back of her neck. For a second she wonders if she can avoid Chanyeol for the rest of her life so this episode of hers can be removed eternally from her internal disk drive, but then she rationalizes that the memory is shared between the two of them, not her alone. Whether she forgets her shameful distastefulness or not, she’s sure he won’t, so she bangs her face to a wall in her living room, believing that her stoic good girl image is ruined, forever.

She just hopes he doesn’t share this with Baekhyun.

-

Author Note:

So maybe the oc is dumb, ahaha.

I really find myself enjoying writing this fic. It’s very different than the characters I usually write, even though the concept is repetitive and cliché.

And yes, they live in the same neighborhood, but it seems that Chanyeol’s university resident is a bit far away from her apartment, thus why the lefts and turns she had to take to guide him away, ahaha.

We can see a bit of distinction in Yeol and Baek’s personalities??? We’ll of course see more of their personalities!

#baekhyun #chanyeol #chanbaek #chanyeolxoc #baekhyunxoc #chanbaekxoc #exoxoc #exo #fanfiction #exofanfic #exoff #chanyeolfluff #chanyeoldrama #baekhyunfluff #baekhyundrama #fluff #drama #angst #futuresmut #romance #multiplepartner #poly

[hopeshoodie]

@ariendiel​ came up with this idea and I think it’s SO funny so here’s the LITG s2 Islanders as anon hate that I’ve (and ariendiel) received

Also this post is a haha funnie laugh jokey joke so if you’re going into it intending to get angry maybe don’t click read more…………

Blake

Personal insult that is super out of touch because she’s actually really pretty, plus a lot of exaggeration? That’s Blake’s brand for sure. Blake doesn’t care if it’s true, it just feels good for her to hurl it at someone else. 2/10 didn’t land the way I’m sure she meant it to, just came off as random and lazy.

Carl

He gets annoyed easily and doesn’t have tolerance for people he doesn’t like. Carl absolutely doesn’t know how to block/ignore someone he doesn’t like, instead preferring to lurk and get his feelings hurt. The passive aggressiveness is 100% his brand, 7/10. 

Chelsea

I know this one isn’t a hate message but I hated it 😂 Chelsea would say this and she’d mean it as a compliment- if you were getting along better with someone awful like Levi or Jasper she’d say ~~~oooh I think he likes you~~~. Chelsea never means to say unkind things, but she certainly can carelessly say things in the moment that stick with you and upset you. 9/10 I was able to make a bunch of memes.

((Sidenote: I know this was a joke and I don’t hold anything personally against you LMAO. tbh I don’t hold anything personally against any of these anons even though I think their actions are childish and cringey))

Elisa

Just like the gossip sneezer argument, this one is just her projecting onto people. Elisa loves sticking her nose where it has no reason to be and lashing out when she gets caught doing that, so this is super on brand for her. Anon is clearly going through something just like Elisa. 1/10 if you’re going to proclaim something at least have evidence to back it up. 

Felix

Low-effort, trying to be edgy, super extreme and carless for no real reason? That’s Felix babey. 0/10 do better.

Gary

He’s actually right- people who cloak bad takes in academic language to make the person they disagree with sound smart are terrible. Unfortunately, he’d get validated on this once and then start throwing it around to anyone who sounds vaguely academic and who he disagrees with- he’s not great at nuances. Ultimately, he betrays that he doesn’t care about the issue at hand, he’s just reactionary and thinks a person is ‘gross’ or ‘bad’. 6/10 there’s a point to be had here, but he fumbles the application and explanation.

Hannah

The :3 is just really on brand and plus Hannah has no self-awareness about her own writing so insulting other people would 100% be her go to. 5/10, it wasn’t true, but the execution redeems it.

Hope

She doesn’t snap at random people often, but when she does her insults are targeting your insecurities and super pithy in execution. Ngl this one hurt a little bit, just like Hope yelling at me would make me cry. It’s got the right amount of anger behind it too. 8/10 simple but had the right amount of forethought to get the job done. 

Jo

((Sidenote: I censored and cropped this one before posting it, the original was full of a ton of hate speech and explicatives, but it was basically saying ‘you support blm? I’m going to say a bunch of horrible shit and call you dumb!’)) 

This one is Jo, for sure. She’s so straight she still thinks ‘don’t have kids’ is an insult, and she has no qualms about being ableist, transphobic, fatphobic, and homophobic all in an ask that was originally in response to a police brutality post. Jo also thinks she’s being really smart and logical, when really she’s just acting like a 13 year old boy who just joined debate club and thinks he’s really good at it because he speaks in a monotone voice.  -2/10, a prime Karen ask. 

Kassam

Y’know, Kassam is pretty observant and will only insult people passive-aggressively with well thought out comments. He’s usually a lot more sparing with his sarcasm, but when something really gets under his skin he can’t let it go. 9/10, this is probably the best insult on here but if it’s really the best that is to be had I feel pretty good about myself tbh

Lottie

She loves to think that everything revolves around her and overanalyze everything that people she doesn’t like do. Lottie’s the kind of person who makes a big stink about unfollowing someone, then lowkey stalks their blog to find things to be upset about. For context, someone sent a bunch of asks mad about my Bobby/Noah fic then got mad that I didn’t reply to their hate anon. It wasn’t about you, babes, I was in the forest climbing rocks ‘n shit. But also the entitlement of expecting someone to platform you even if you’re being unreasonable? That’s Lottie babey. 7/10 because I like the idea of you putting way more thought into this nonsense than I did. 

Marisol

This is Marisol 100%, from the Bad Takes on gender/fandom to the willful misinterpretation of someone she refuses to engage with in good faith. When you argue with Marisol, she’s going to twist your words and paint herself as the victim. In the same way, this ask was in response to a fluffy domestic ficlet I posted about Bobby/Noah that didn’t sexualize them. I also only ship Lurik and Bobby/Lucas (and mostly post about straight or wlw relationships), so saying I ship ‘every male character’ is a lie and ‘regardless of chemistry’ is a stretch- both those pairings have SO much chemistry. Marisol would 100% see a lesbian that she didn’t like and hurl her tumblr vocabulary at them to try and paint them as a villain, she’s just that vindictive and spiteful. It’s a pretty shitty character trait to have, though, and she should really take a breath and more critically examine her own impulse to react that way……… 3/10 at least it can be a learning moment.

Noah

First of all, Noah is boring. He’s a dweeby little nerd who likes Homestuck, reptiles, reading, and healthy relationships with his masculinity and family. It doesn’t get much less edgy than that, but we adore him anyways. So the ask is based in truth, but bungles the execution (and also isn’t really that big of a deal to begin with?) As for this being an insult he’d come up with, he’s pretty lame with colorful language and doesn’t really know how to create a good insult, so he’d default to something weak like this. 0/10, didn’t actually upset anyone, and didn’t manage to be funny in the meantime.

Priya

She doesn’t know how to cope with mistakes or conflict, her own or otherwise, and so her solution is to just wish things away. She doesn’t know how to mind her own business and gets swept up in self-righteousness altogether. Didn’t really hurt my feels or make me feel anything though, so 2/10.

Rocco

Childish, poorly thought out, and lacking critical thinking. I’ll give Rocco a bit more credit than anon though, he knows what he’s doing is wrong but doesn’t care enough to fix it. I’m assuming anon is 100% caught up in their ‘stanning’ of a character to not take other people disagreeing personally. But Rocco definitely gets caught up in being annoyed in much a similar way. 3/10, not super convincing or creative.

#my post #also!! go follow ariendiel because she's not at all boring and actually really pretty so like anon sit in a bucket #still laughing at the idea of someone getting pissed off at a bobby/noah fic then writing a bunch of anons then getting mad that im on vacay

[swamp-world]

Like. I don’t really care about celebrity drama. But here’s the thing: this whole Meghan Markle and Harry thing? (what’s his last name do i call him mountbatten-windsor or did he forsake that name when he abdicted oh god oh fuck.) But. But this is more than just celebrity gossip. This is about the interpersonal and systemic abuse, racism, and manipulation that occurs within one of Europe’s remaining monarchies. And may I specify--this is a family which still retains social and political power. People still give a shit about it. Conservatives (royalist conservatives, at least) still adore it. It’s “a bastion of tradition” i.e. racism. And in case you weren’t still aware of that somehow--in case the queen wearing jewels plundered from India and sustaining a palace maintained with colonial money wasn’t enough for you--you’re getting to see what it looks like inside, beyond the pristine corgis-crowns-and-velvet exterior.

Let me ask you a question: how much do you think you, if you live in a Commonwealth country, have to pay annual to support the Crown? I seem to recall an article by Macleans which stated that Canadians pay $1.53CAD annually to support the Crown. That’s not a lot, technically, but...it’s a lot. (And if I recall correctly, that’s more than British people pay per capita for the same thing.) That includes security details, and royal property, and all of the likes.

Do you believe that the Crown is a neutral figurehead institution? That they don’t have a carefully curated image based on having no power when they actually do? About a month ago a lot of people were made aware of the fact that Queen Elizabeth II was maintaining a lot of money and power through Royal Assent(?), which means that she would have to give permission to Parliament if they were going to pass any bills which affected her. How many of those do you think she allowed to go through?

Were you alive when Diana was? Do you remember her? Do you remember the conspiracies (rightly) flying around that she was murdered by the royal family? Do you realize that in this interview, these two basically said that they were lucky to get out before anything similar happened? 

The implication there, which should surprise absolutely no anti-monarchist, is that the crown is willing to murder to keep up their image. To keep their secrets, their conservative tradition, their white colonial tradition. To keep their reputation, and their power, and their money.

Do you truly believe that the Crown has no power? Not just the Queen, not just the royal family. The Crown as an institution. Do you really think that the Queen just puts a fancy signature to things and waves at people?

In what was even then seen as an unprecedented move, in 1975, the Governor General (for those of you unfamiliar--the Queen’s representative in commonwealth countries, and the one who has to approve all federal bills) of Australia, John Kerr, removed Prime Minister Gough Whitlam from his post. Recent revealed letters show that while the Queen was kept carefully and calculatedly unaware of what was going on, so that she could stay neutral on the matter, it was still through the power of the Crown, its representatives, and its advisors, that a democratically elected head of government was removed. I do not give a shit if you think that there was some exceptional state of affairs that led to that. Are you comfortable with an elected government being overthrown by a power which has its legitimacy simply in the fact that it’s existed for centuries? Is that the kind of country that you want to live in?

That was unprecedented in 1975, because even then, the Crown was seen as having no active political power. It still happened. Who’s to say it won’t happen again?

Who’s to say that after abuse and humiliation and calculated avoidance of providing Markle with no psychological help after tormenting her and leading her to the point of suicidal ideation didn’t get rid of her, they’re not going to try to pull another Diana, maybe in a more subtle way after this?

Who is to say that your innocent corgi-loving range-rover driving grandma queen and her pedophile family aren’t going to pull this shit right under your noses again?

What I’m saying is: this is not just celebrity gossip. This, the Royal Assent news, the Epstein scandal--all of this is dismantling the royal family’s reputation, as they rightly deserve. And if Harry and Meghan play their cards right, if we keep pushing, maybe the monarchy will rightly be dissolved after Old Lady Lizzy dies.

#this is unsourced and un-fact checked #i am relying solely on memory for all of this #i really do hope that the monarchy falls though #if someone asks i can get sources #admittedly i haven't seen the interview #i'm operating on secondhand info while i try to find a version i can watch #i am not responsible if misinformation gets reblogged #i have put my disclaimer #but please let buckingham palace burn #i remember asking my family what would happen #if a jewish or muslim woman was to marry into the royal family #the head of the anglican church #the answer given was that she would have to convert #and that just seemed really awful to me #people who choose to convert? good for them! #people who are forced to convert #especially for something like this? #a series of outdated institutions? #horrible #terrible #friendly reminder that chicken tikka masala is more popular in england than fish and chips #but the royal family is worried that their little baby prince will have too dark of skin #this place was built and maintained on racism

[just-jordie-things]

a blurb of reader always doing these dangerous things to impress Kiara and her getting mad at you because she doesn’t want you to get hurt and one day you guys get in a fight and the reader gets really hurt and Kiara admits that she always gets mad because she cares for reader and likes her (sorry if this was long)

You really are a showoff, and everyone knows why.

You’re a damn good surfer, so you make it work.  Most days you leave Pope in the dust, and sometimes you rival JJ in the different stunts you’ll pull when you’re out on the water.  The boys find it amusing, and hilarious when you wipe out and embarrass yourself.

Kiara however always babied you, scolding you for doing reckless tricks without practice, but you never really listened.  You just wanted to get back on your board and do it again until you could impress her.

It wasn’t just surfing though.  

As the life of the party, you were always trying to do some crazy shit to top the crazy shit you pulled at the last kegger.  It had been kegstands, skinny dipping, fighting with Kooks that looked at you the wrong way, backflips off of John B’s shoulders, anything that would capture the attention of Pogues and Tourons, and sometimes even Kooks.

But rarely Kiara, which is what you really wanted.

Since you didn’t know how to flirt properly, and there was no way in hell you would outright admit your feelings for her, you decided you’d just have to go bigger.

Looking back, that was pretty stupid of you.  But when you’d gone over your idea with the boys, they’d encouraged you excitedly.  That probably should have been a red flag that it was a terrible idea.  But Sarah wasn’t around that day to knock some sense into you, so you went along with it.

Agatha hit that night, quickly wreaking havoc on the island.  Homes were boarded up and everyone with a lick of common sense were holed up inside with their families.

Not you and the Pogues though.  You’d thought this was the prime time to go surfing, and really make a lasting impression on Kiara.

John B and Pope handled themselves just fine, wiping out a couple times, but getting back out there with ease and trying again.

You, however, got too excited and didn’t focus well enough on your balance.  On your first wave, you got knocked down, and next thing you knew the harsh tide was keeping you down.

You didn’t have time to take one last gasp for air before your board went under, pulling you with it by your ankle.  It felt like minutes that you were trapped under the waves, but soon enough you followed the rope attached to your leg and reemerged.

You wanted to get back on your board and try again, but as soon as you got out of the water, you felt the sharp pain in your ankle.

Fuck, that’s not good.

Pope and John B must have seen how bad your wipeout was, because they were quickly paddling towards you, and helping you to the shore.  It was difficult, since the waves were crashing over you heavily, but they got you there.

John B took your board and Pope lifted you up on his back to piggyback you to the Chateau, where Sarah JJ and Kiara had been waiting for you guys.

When you arrived, all eyes were on your swollen purple- and probably broken- ankle.

“What the fuck did you do!” JJ shouted, the grin on his face showing that he was more amused than he was worried.

Not that he didn’t care- he just knew that you could handle yourself pretty well.  And you didn’t look like you were in any pain.

“What the fuck did you do?” Kiara said the same thing, but she was definitely not amused.  She was pissed.

She stormed right over to you as Pope helped you off his back and onto the couch.  You smiled at her innocently, but it was no use.  She had her arms crossed and her brows furrowed, and her foot was tapping.

That was not a good sign.

“I thought you guys went to the store to get supplies, since we’ll all be stuck here all night,” Kiara said, turning to the boys now.  “You went surfing? In the hurricane?”

“It was (y/n’s) idea!” John B argued, holding his hands up in surrender.

You scowled at him, and he made a sorry face.

“I don’t care who’s idea it was!” Kiara retorted.  “Hurricane warnings aren’t suggestions you dumbasses! You’re lucky one of you didn’t die!” She whipped back around to you, her finger in your face.  “You’re lucky you didn’t die!” 

“I’m fine, Kie,” You shrug your shoulders, and she gestured towards your messed up ankle exasperatedly.  “It’s just a little bruise” You said.

“It’s definitely fucking broken!” She shrieked.

“Doesn’t feel broken”

“That’s the adrenaline, (y/n),” She sighed, no longer feeling the energy to keep yelling.  “You’re just in shock and can’t feel the pain” 

“Well it’s working,” You shrugged again.  “J, be a doll and roll me a blunt for when the pain hits? Thanks” 

Kiara ran her hands through her hair stressfully, her eyes shutting as she tries to think of what she could say to get you to realize that this wasn’t no big deal.  Sarah came up next to her, a gentle hand laying on her shoulder.

“Come on,” The blonde Kook said softly, hoping to calm her friend down.  “Let’s find the first aid kit and see what we can do about it while we’re stuck here” 

Kiara nodded, and followed her out of the room.  You frowned when Kiara’s glance back at you wasn’t a kind one.

You hadn’t meant to piss her off, you hadn't meant to upset her at all.

“That didn’t work” John B said, slumping down next to you on the sofa.

You look over at him, brows furrowed and your frown still present.

“No shit Sherlock” You muttered.

“You know, maybe you should just come clean,” Pope said.  “We know she likes you, and she doesn’t really care about all the wild stuff”

“Wow thanks I didn’t think of that” You grumbled, leaning your head back on the sofa cushion.  The pain was starting to hit as reality came crashing down on you.

You tried and failed to impress the girl you like, and now your ankle was broken, and the girl you like was very mad at you.  The adrenaline was wearing off.

“You’re kinda mean when you’re broken hearted” John B mumbled.

You turned to look at him again, but your frustrated expression melted away and you laughed quietly.

“Sorry,” You sighed.  “And I’m not broken hearted, I’m just... frustrated,” You admit.  “I like her a lot” You added, voice softer.

“Just tell her that then,” Pope said.  “It’s that easy”

“Says the guy who’s never made a move on any girl he’s ever liked,” You fired off, and then winced, and gave him a small smile.  “Sorry” You said again.

Kiara and Sarah came back in the room then, and John B excused himself, dragging Pope and JJ with him towards the kitchen.

“You guys making dinner?” Sarah asked, also finding a way to give you and Kiara some privacy.

She didn’t wait for the answer- which would have been no because there was never any real food at John B’s and they hadn’t gotten any food when they were supposed to because you wanted to surf- she just followed them into the kitchen to gossip and eavesdrop.

“I found some stuff,” Kiara told you, sitting on the floor in front of you as she laid out the few supplies John B had.

There was no food in the house but there was always plenty of first aid supplies.  Lord knows the boys could be as careless as you.

“I think I can do a makeshift splint for now, and then when the storm dies down we’ll take you to the hospital” Kiara explained, lining up the the plastic against your leg.

You hissed when she pressed it against your skin, all the pain hitting you at once.

“No, I’m good,” You shook your head, pulling your leg away.  “No hospital, the swelling will go down-”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Kiara replied, hand wrapping around your calf and pulling it towards her again.  “We’re bandaging this up, it’s disgusting (y/n/n)”

She was calling you by your nickname again, even if it was out of annoyance, that was a good sign, maybe she wasn’t as mad anymore.

“I can’t believe you’re so stupid,” She huffed as she lined the plastic up with your damaged ankle again.

Okay, maybe she is still mad.

“Surfing in this storm?” She muttered, shaking her head.

“I’m sorry” 

It wasn’t what you planned on saying, you were going to explain the height of the waves and how killer it was to be out there, in the hopes that she’d see your side of the situation.  But instead, you apologized.

Kiara looked up at you, just as surprised as you were.

You never apologized, not for this sort of thing.  When she’d scold you for fighting, or for drinking too much, or anything really, you always just argued your way out of it, nonchalantly brushing off her worries.

But now as she looked at you, she could tell you really regretted it this time.  Your eyes were sad and glossy, and you were chewing anxiously on your lip.  You really felt bad this time, and she saw that.

“I just don’t get it,” She whispered, wrapping gauze around our ankle to keep the makeshift splint in place.  “I don’t get how your brain works sometimes,” She adds with a soft laugh.  “Or why you think that’s a good idea” 

You sucked in a sharp breath, both from the discomfort of your ankle and to prepare yourself mentally.

Here goes nothing.

“I just wanted to impress you,” You confessed, and her eyes shot up to meet yours.  “I just wanted you to think I was... I don’t know... cool” You added lamely.

A small smile tugged on the corner of Kiara’s lips.

“(y/n), I already think that,” She told you.  “You’re the coolest person I’ve ever met, and probably will ever meet.” She said sweetly.

You smile back at her, no doubt in your mind that your whole face was pink, but you didn’t care.  It was just nice to hear her say it.

“I’m sorry I yelled, and called you a dumbass” She added.

“It’s okay.  I was being a dumbass” You told her, both of you laughing quietly.

“Yeah, I can’t disagree with that,” She giggled, tucking the gauze into itself so it’d stay in place.  “I just don’t like seeing you like this, I don’t want you to get hurt I... I care about you, you know...” She admitted.

Your smile brightened, and you nodded your head back at her in understanding.

“Cause... cause I like you,” She finished her thought.  “A lot, actually” 

“You do?” You asked, eyes blowing wide.

“Yeah” She mumbled back, nervously meeting your eyes.

Your grin stretched ear to ear as you reached down to take her hands in yours.

“I like you too” You told her.

“Really?”

“Yeah dummy, why do you think I did all that stupid shit?” You laughed.

“I just thought you were crazy like that” Kiara replied.

“Well, that too, but I just wanted to impress you,” You said.  “It was dumb but it kind of worked, didn’t it?”

“No” Kiara said, in monotone.

“Well it’s working right now” You said with a smirk.

“No- no it’s not, (y/n), I swear to god if you go out and do more stupid shit I’m gonna-”

You cut her off, surging forward and closing he space between your lips, not caring about whatever threat she was about to make, you just really wanted to kiss you.

She gave up on trying to argue with you, melting into the kiss as her hands let go of your to rest at the base of your neck.

And coincidentally, your ankle didn’t hurt so much anymore.

#outer banks #outer banks fanfictions #kiara carrera #kiara carrera x reader #kiara carrera imagine #kiara carrera scenario #kiara carrera fanfiction

[shemakesmusic-uk]

Blending left field jazz elements with club tropes to forge something truly new, Emma-Jean Thackray's work is never less than riveting. New album Yellow is out on July 2, with the composer commenting: “It’s a record about togetherness, the oneness of all things in the universe, showing love and kindness, human connection. I approached the record by trying to simulate a life-changing psychedelic experience, an hour where we see behind the curtain to a hidden dimension, where the physical realm melts away and we finally see that we are all one.” Set to be released via her own Movementt imprint, the album is led by gorgeous new single 'Say Something' - opening with glimmers of Rhodes piano, it leans on that hi-hat shuffle before Emma-Jean Thackray uses her voice to elevate the song. A plea towards communication, it's a powerful introduction. [via Clash]

Philadelphia punk rockers Mannequin Pussy have released the title track to Perfect, their upcoming EP due out May 21. The new song comes with a flashy music video that’s inspired by the kitschy glamor of Romy and Michele’s High School Reunion, too. Musically, 'Perfect' is a distorted blaze of rock guitars that sees vocalist-guitarist Missy eviscerating the idea that people must manicure their own social media presence. “Last year, I found myself spending more time on my phone than I ever had in my life… I realized that through years of social media training, many of us have grown this deep desire to manicure our lives to look as perfect, as aspirational as possible,” explained Missy in a statement. “We want to put ourselves out there, share our lives, our stories, our day to day — and these images and videos all shout the same thing: ‘Please look at me, please tell me I’m so perfect.’ It’s simultaneously a declaration of our confidence but edged with the desperation that seeks validation from others.” In the accompanying music video, directed by Missy, viewers get to watch as a 10-year reunion at Sugarbush High slowly unravels. It opens on three former classmates, all three of whom are pregnant, dishing some hushed gossip and talking about how they want to get plastic surgery that’s so good they mistake one another for strangers. Cue two students-turned-drag queens making a grand entrance and strutting their stuff on the dance floor (mirroring the 1997 comedy classic) while old classmates gasp, shield their eyes, and panic. Meanwhile, Mannequin Pussy can be seen tearing up the band stage while they perform live. [via Consequence]

Following the release of her debut EP I Can’t Cry For You in December, Manchester’s Phoebe Green is back with new bop ‘IDK’. “[It] explores a complete detachment from reality, observing things from a place of total apathy and feeling as though I’m witnessing my life as a bystander with little to no connection to it,” Phoebe explains. “It’s a horrible state to be in, I think it happens when I get overwhelmed.” [via DIY]

Fast-rising French-Korean artist spill tab is unveiling her latest mesmerising single ‘Anybody Else’. Accompanied by a new vid directed by friend and collaborator Jade Sadler, spill tab says, “This song is cheesy as fuck but I love it, it’s pretty straight forward, a little shameless - the lyrics are sort of a way of expressing my love without openly saying I love you. Jade Sadler (the video director) and I just wanted to have a shit ton of fun on this one. We thought about something with narrative or plot and it was just getting to be too corny. I wanted something lighthearted and playful, so we decided we would have all of our homies in this video paired with different colors and angles and set designs. I’m so excited with the way it turned out.” [via DIY]

Willow Kayne has shared her debut single 'Two Seater'. The Gen Z talent links together huge opposing forces, creating her own potent brand of rebel-pop. New single 'Two Seater' finds Willow blazing a trail, upending convention through melding together differing sounds. The lush, 90s inspired soundscape leans on nostalgic impulses, but her punk-like disregard for convention is sheer pop futurism. Produced by DANIO, it finds Willow Kayne coming into her own completely off the bat. [via Clash]

BENEE has shared a video for her single ‘Happen To Me’. It’s the latest cut from her debut album, Hey u x, which arrived last November featuring guest spots from the likes of Grimes, Lily Allen and Flo Milli. “This song is super important to me,” she says. “It’s the opening track [on the album]. It’s the first song where I’ve written about anxiety. The lyrics are pretty dark. Life is pretty crazy right now, and I think it’s important to talk about this kind of stuff.” Of the video, she adds: “Stoked to be sharing this music video with everyone! I filmed it with a bunch of mates, and it was the coolest set! Hope you love it as much as I do.” [via Dork]

Los Angeles-based art-pop artist Kit Major has shared the music video for 'When the Drugs Don't Work,' a more introspective stab at her signature dark, electropop sound. Blending driving dance beats and thumping hyperpop-influenced synths, Kit Major creates an intoxicating elixir of soundbites and grit. Taking inspiration from Charli XCX, Billie Eilish, and Charlotte Lawrence, 'When the Drugs Don't Work' dives into the overwhelming vulnerability and panic of failing to curb a depressive episode with medication. With this release, Kit Major furthers her efforts to be open and make light of her mental health struggles. On the video, Kit Major shares, "'When The Drugs Don't Work' was filmed in one weekend, directed by my best friend in my departed grandparents' now empty house. We filmed this in quarantine without a crew and worked to create a dark & twisted fairytale together. When I first started thinking about the video, I knew I wanted a more lighthearted take to balance the darker theme of my mental health in the song. I wrote the lyric, “little princess hurt locked away inside her palace,” because sometimes when I'm isolated in my room I visualize myself as a Disney princess running inside her castle, instead of being in my bed, surrounded by empty water bottles. This song was written from a mix of different perspectives including my own, my persona, and outside voices. I think we accomplished the storytelling behind WTDDW by portraying the importance of imagination and trusting yourself."  Alongside, director Noël Dombroski adds, "WDDW is a raw, introspective song from Kit that shines a light on parts of herself that at times may be hard to face. We were lucky enough to be able to shoot at Kit's late grandparents' house, an emotionally significant location that acts in the video as the inside of Kit's head. We wanted to challenge viewers to look at every facet of themselves and realize that each part is valuable, even if you may not like it. A conversation we had a lot was about the color scene, where the image of Kit is being pulled apart by color channels. You may hate one of those colors, but you still need it to create that full image. The same can sometimes be said about depression - it may be a layer of yourself that you don't care for, but without that experience, I don't know that WDDW could exist." The music video dives into the psychological turmoil at the heart of the track with a hyperstylized touch. Spotlights wander through a funhouse version of Kit's childhood home, hunting down our protagonist, who we find trapped behind bars, downing teardrops from teacups and champagne from the bottle. Simultaneously unnerving and stimulating in a Paranormal Activity-meets Alice in Wonderland aestheticism, the music video for 'When the Drugs Don't Work' dives into the floating images of a mental breakdown with a fever dream lucidity.

Number One Popstar continues to prove herself as a powerhouse, shaking up the music world with her fresh, unapologetic beats. This week, she shares another one, her new single 'Forever 21.' And no, it’s not about clothes. 'Forever 21' begins with a kicking beat, but subdued with reflective, twinkly keys. It’s a perfect mix of existential dread and dance. Carrying this vibe throughout, it breaks in between with a beaming guitar-driven bridge. Lyrically, the track makes us question why brands and media make it seem like our twenties are our prime, when we still have our whole lives ahead of us? Despite the effervescent pop sound, Hollowell got vulnerable about her past and its effect on the song, saying, "I initially started writing 'Forever 21' when I found myself looking back on my early 20’s, wanting to recapture the hopeful and dumb feelings of my youth. But the longer I spent on the song, the more it became a reflection of the loss I faced when my parents passed away in my early 20s. I started looking at my own fear of death, of dying like them. I really didn’t know where my life was headed back then. […] I eventually turned that painful experience into a motivation to go after everything I wanted in life. To be seriously less serious, recognizing everything is fleeting.” Like her other music videos, Hollowell likes to flip popular culture and societal expetations on their head. While also bringing the fear of aging to life, she also reminds audiences to stay present instead of holding on to youth. [via Earmilk]

Following in the footsteps of Prince and Lizzo, Dizzy Fae is set to become the Twin Cities’ next pop sensation. She just dropped her brand new track, 'BODY MOVE', and much like the name suggests, it will make you want to move. Self-described as alternative R&B, Fae takes a few notes from contemporary hyperpop artists like Charli XCX and Doja Cat with an industrial iciness that plays off the technicolor pop melodies. It’s an influence you can hear on 'BODY MOVE', produced by New York’s Stelios (Young Thug, SZA). The track builds itself off a snappy, rubber band bass line indebted to pop’s recent disco revival. “It’d be so cruel if I didn’t let my body move,” Fea’s voice loops through a robotic filter. A buzzing drum machines barrels in at the chorus, transforming the lightly retro groove to a futuristic club track more akin to the production styles of 100 gecs. But for all the modern influences, the Ying Yang Twins reference shows she’s a student of all types of music. [via Consequence]

Technically, 'Your Power' is not the lead single from Billie Eilish’s newly announced album Happier Than Ever. The album includes two songs she released last year: the jazzy, well received ballad 'my future' and the contemptuous multi-format radio hit 'Therefore I Am.' However, 'Your Power' is the first song Eilish has released since announcing the new album, debuting her new look, and officially commencing her LP2 era, so there’s definitely a deep sense of anticipations around the song. Eilish teased 'Your Power' this week with a brief sound snippet featuring acoustic guitar and the words “Try not to use your power” sung to a Feist-y melody. Now the full song and its Eilish-directed music video have arrived. The completed record remains as soft, pretty, and devastatingly sad as the preview audio. In the clip, a slow pan across a mountainside in the Simi Valley reveals Eilish in the clutches of a gigantic snake. (A press release specifies that it’s an 80-pound anaconda.) [via Stereogum]

#videos of the week #emma-jean thackray #mannequin pussy #phoebe green #spill tab #willow kayne #benee #kit major #number one popstar #dizzy fae #billie eilish

[unhingeddumbass]

Ben, Kevin and Gwen answer random questions:

DISCLAIMERS: THE QUESTIONS AREN’T MINE, I FOUND THEM IN ANOTHER POST, CREDITS TO OP. I FOUND THEIR BIRTHDAYS IN BEN 10 WIKI, THE CANDLES WERE MADE WITH A BUZZFEED QUIZ AND I’LL PRETEND KEVIN’S DAD WASN’T A FAKE MEMORY, HE WAS REAL, BECAUSE IT WORKS FOR ANSWERING SOME QUESTIONS. I TRIED TO DO THIS BASED ON THE TRIO’S PERSONALITY LIKE THE SHOW AND BEN’S SINGLE BECAUSE I DON’T WANT ANY BEEF AND BECAUSE EVERYONE SHIPS DIFFERENT PEOPLE WITH BEN.

😷Where or with who are you spending quarantine? 

Gwen: I’m staying with Kevin at his mom’s house.

Kevin: What she said lol

Ben: At home with my folks, since Grandpa Max is a risk patient, he’s staying at Galvan Prime with Azmuth. 

✊🏾What’s your position with the current racism tragedy? Are you getting involved in any way? 

Gwen: I’m horrified. I can’t believe we’ve come to such high levels of intolerance and hate and that the government just adds more violence instead of trying to change the situation peacefully. I’ve been getting informed and learning, doing videos teaching people about racism, posted them on my social media so I can try and teach people more. I’m claustrophobic so I don’t go to protests, but I’m supporting from home. 

Kevin: I’m fucking angry. I’ve been at the protests with Ben and we’re trying our best to keep people safe. I’m also working on a piece of tech to cover tear gas before it blows and some bulletproof stuff.

Ben: Like Kevin said, we’ve been on the front with protesters providing help and keeping everyone as safe as possible. Our parents are donating and we’re trying to get the Plumber’s help too, but they said it’s not their jurisdiction. Either way we’re doing our best and we’ll always stand with justice, peace and equality for everyone. 

🐰- do you believe in soul mates?

Gwen: Yaaaas, it’s so romantic! 

Kevin: Uh.. *Looks at Gwen* Only if it’s her. 

Ben: Dafuk’s a soulmate?

💌- diary or journal?

Gwen: A mix between both, I love scrapbooking.

Kevin: Das some soft shit bro *He secretly hides a journal but he’ll never admit*

Ben: Why wasting paper? It’s better to keep everything on the Cloud

💕- are you crushing on someone?

Gwen: Hmm… Patch Cipriano *Kevin glares at her* JUST KIDDING, only you. 

Kevin: This babe right here *Grabs Gwen’s waist and kisses her forehead*

Ben: *Simping* Jennifer Lawrence, Selena Gomez… there’s too many 

💋- kissing in the dark or kissing in the rain?

Gwen: A rainy autumn day *Daydreams*

Kevin: Three words: Dark. Backseat. Lake *Smirks and winks at Gwen*

Ben: *Cringes for the Gwevin moment* Anywhere I guess. 

🍼- what is your favorite memory?

Gwen: Fishing with Grandpa Max and my first karate tournament

Kevin: Buying my car xD

Ben: THAT ICONIC summer vacation, hell yeah

🌸- what is your favorite flower?

Gwen: Yellow roses, ofc.

Kevin: Weed *Gwen elbows him in the chest*

Ben: None, tho I kinda like sunflowers

💖- have you ever been in love?

Gwen: *Looks at Kevin and smiles*, yes. 

Kevin: *Starts singing I’m in Love With My Car by Queen, Gwen glaring at him* Ofc I love you babe, I’m kidding.

Ben: My love belongs to Mr Smoothies

🍰- strawberry or vanilla?

Gwen: Both! Also love coconut.

Kevin: Those are some lame ass flavours, I rather chocolate or blueberries.

Ben: As long as it can be made into a smoothie, I’ll love it.

🍯- describe your favorite smell

Gwen: A new book and a autumn scented candle

Kevin: Gasoline and... *blushes*... Gwen’s shampoo.

Ben: Pickles and chili fries, duuuh. 

🎂- if you had 3 wishes, what would they be?

Gwen: An infinite supply of books, making high education to be accessible to everybody and to reverse the damages the human race has made to the environment.

Kevin: My car to be completely indestructible, free food forever not only for me but to everybody and…*whispering* getting to see my dad at least one last time.

Ben: Infinite chilli fries and smoothies, to stop racism, misogyny and homophobia, and Grandpa Max to be around for a lot of more years. 

🍪- cookie dough or cookies?

Gwen: Freshly baked cookies!

Kevin and Ben: *Screaming* Cookie dough! Salmonella won’t ever stop us!

☕- coffee or tea?

Gwen: Coffee in the winter or at college, tea for relaxing.

Kevin: Bring me the strongest coffee! *Slams fists on table*

Ben: F U C K I N’  S M O O T H I E S 

🍃- would you rather live in a sea with mermaids or a forest with fairies?

Gwen: I can’t choose, I’d love both.

Kevin and Ben: *Smirking with pervert thoughts* MERMAIDS!

🍂- what’s your middle name?

Gwen: Catherine, but I rather being called Gwendolyn instead.

Kevin: Ethan, but dare to call me that and I’ll yeet you into oblivion. 

Ben: Kirby, COULDN’T BE ANY MORE CRINGEEEEEE?

💫- what is your zodiac sign?

Gwen: Cancer (14th July)

Kevin: Scorpio (4th November)

Ben: Capricorn (27th December)

🌧️- favorite thing to do on rainy days?

Gwen: Read, drink tea and listen to calm music.

Kevin: Either I sleep all day or I’ll go to Gwen’s house. 

Ben: Eat, sleep, TV, and rave repeat. 

🍭- how tall are you?

Gwen: 5’6

Kevin: 6’3

Ben: 5’10

💒- which show would you want to live in?

Gwen: The Vampire Diaries or Friends.

Kevin: Law & Order *Screams DUN DUN*

Ben: Summo Slammers!

🎄- what is your favorite holiday?

Gwen: Thanksgiving, because of the family reunion.

Kevin: Saint Patrick’s Day, cuz I have an excuse to get fucking drunk and party

Ben: Christmas! Good food and gifts heck yeah

🍦- what scented candle is your favorite?

Gwen: Warm Vanilla Cookie or Pumpkin Spice.

Kevin: Enchanted Pine

Ben: Citrus Mint

🎶- favorite song right now?

Gwen: Sit Still, Look Pretty by Daya

Kevin: I’m In Love With My Car by Roger Taylor (Queen)

Ben: Human by Cher Lloyd or Game Over by Falling In Reverse

💘- 3 ways to win your heart?

Gwen: Don’t be a dickhead, be supportive, be funny.

Kevin: Respect my space, be brave and plz don’t hate my car

Ben: Be playful, funny and patient of my lifestyle which is very hard

🍩- current mood?

Gwen: Normal, concerned about the pandemic and missing my bff

Kevin: Meh, I don’t go out as often anyway

Ben: I WANNA GO OUT, I HATE QUARANTINE

❄️- what is your favorite season?

Gwen: I like summer but I love autumn

Kevin: I don’t actually mind

Ben: SUMMEEEEEEER 

💍- your current relationship status?

Gwen and Kevin: Taken! *Kiss*

Ben: *Gags and glares at the happy couple* single and enjoying my peaceful life.

🕊️- 3 habits you have?

Gwen: Organizing my books by height, having always my room clean and never leave my house without my earphones

Kevin: The volume on the tv has to be in an even number, my car has to be always well maintained and my phone is mostly on silent or vibration mode.

Ben: Never spend a day without a smoothie, text Grandpa at least once a day or two, and collecting stuff I like.

🦄- how do you perceive yourself?

Gwen: Hardworking, introverted and intellectual

Kevin: I’ve got some roguish charm *smirks* and a little soft sometimes

Ben: Quirky, loud and funny.

🦋- how do you think others perceive you?

Gwen: Some call me golden child or goody two shoes. Probably teacher’s pet too.

Kevin: *Points at Ben* well, he thinks I’m strange and dangerous, so I guess other people think that too, maybe also an asshole.

Ben: A couple people think I’m an egocentric pain in the ass.

🌈- things I find attractive in girls/guys

Gwen: Physical appearance isn’t important, but I love smiles. I like a person who I can be myself with and is honest always. 

Kevin: If a girl is fearless, strong and independent I become a simp for her tbh *Looks at Gwen* That’s how you got me at your feet babe. 

Ben: I really like someone supportive and understanding, also bonus points if they’re not that serious, I want to joke around.  

🍓- one secret about yourself

Gwen: I tend to be a people pleaser and I struggle with standing up for myself around my parents. 

Kevin: I’m a sucker for my mom’s food and I’m actually sensible around the people I care the most about. 

Ben: I’m not as careless and cocky as I pretend to be. Also I secretly love Lady Gaga’s music. 

🎥- what show are you currently binging on?

Gwen: Gossip Girl, bakery shows and Stranger Things

Kevin: CSI and Law & Order, also Pimp My Ride cuz hell yeah old MTV shows

Ben: I mostly watch Summo Slammers but I also like Rick and Morty, Big Mouth and Stranger Things.

💗- who do you miss?

Gwen: My family and my best friend, Emily. 

Kevin: ...my dad. 

Ben: Grandpa Max, no cap. 

🥀- last time you cried?

Gwen: The other day, while we watched A Dog’s Purpose 1 and 2. 

Kevin: I don’t wanna talk about that soft shit

Ben: I had a very lucid nightmare the other day and woke up crying

🔪- scariest/creepiest experience?

All of them: Coming back from death in Legerdomain

#ben 10 #ben 10 alien force #ben 10 ultimate alien #ben 10 omniverse #gwen tennyson #ben tennyson #kevin levin

[zippiestdraws]

Choking Curiosity Ch 6

Read on Ao3

ftm reader x michael myers

Everything aches right now.

Considering the circumstances, you could be a lot worse or dead, but that doesn’t make you thankful. You take one step down the stairs and nearly trip, having to blink away a dizzy spell. You need some ice for multiple parts of your body.

You keep a small first-aid kit in the upstairs bathroom, but you don’t think it’ll help the contusions. Your ribs and ankle you can ignore if you lie down, but the red and purple ring around your throat glares at you in the mirror and throbs when you swallow.

You hold an ice pack to your head and breath. You’re exhausted.

The backdoor he left through is unlocked. You stare until you can gather the strength to get up and turn the lock. The practiced motion and click of the tumbler shifts the question to the forefront of your mind.

How long had he been in here with me?

There was evidence of a squatter when you first moved in and you really hope it hasn’t been that long. An odd mixture of horror and embarrassment festers when you think about all the things he could have seen when you thought you were alone.

You really wish you had curtains you could close right now. The darkness has fallen and you need to move on for now, but you grab your bat and keep it close.

*** You wake the next morning, surprised to still be breathing.

With careful probing, the dark corners of the house prove themselves to be empty and you cringe at the inevitability of having to be productive today.

The sunlight streaming through the windows makes you feel guilty for not wanting to leave the house. You’re probably no safer out there than in here even after changing the locks, but at least there are less directions to be attacked from.

Thinking of attacking, that ugly wallpaper is really asking for it. You decide to work on that after putting some food in your stomach.

Easier said than done. Whoever built this shitty house decided to cut corners on priming the walls before gluing the wallpaper down, and now you have the joy of pulling it off in shredded strips like a cheap sticker. After a couple sweaty hours, you almost wished you just left it up because you don’t even know how to cover up the mess with paint.

Frustration gets the best of you so you throw the scraps in a garbage bag and head for the shower. The first aid kit sits out on the counter where you left it, sparking a reminder that you haven’t done your testosterone injection since the move. You cringe and make a mental note to schedule an appointment with a local endocrinology lab before anything happens.

You nearly forget while washing up, prompting you to search the house for a pen while still in a towel. You have to find the number to a place first, though, glancing at the cheap plastic telephone with its tangled cord on the kitchen counter. You bought it because you didn’t want to use a payphone to call Laurie.

Oh shit. Laurie would definitely want to hear about what happened last night. Anxiety wells within you. What would be the purpose of calling her? She couldn’t really do anything to help and she would probably freak out. You consider that she might not believe that you met him and lived, but the bruises on your neck would be proof enough.

Your hand rests on the phone. She has a right to know.

Your hand is slow to punch the numbers on the faded scrap of paper and you hold your breath as it rings.

The phone clicks. “Hello?”

“Hi Laurie, it’s (y/n).” you let your breath out, unsure how you should act in this situation.

“Oh, how are you doing?”, you can hear a little bit of concern through the pleasantry.

“Actually, something’s happened…”, you choke on your words. You didn’t think about how to phrase it and the words feel weird in your mouth. “He was here.”, you exhale the words like a strained whisper.

There’s a pause and there’s a sound like something falling over the phone.

“Michael was there? You saw him?”, her voice demanded. You almost flinch at the name, you didn’t want to say it, like it would manifest.

“Yes,” you answer in a normal voice that seems too loud this time. “He-” your voice breaks unexpectedly and you stop.

You can hear Laurie asking if you’re okay and about what happened while you try to piece together a description that fit.

“He was in my room. I didn’t see him...and he...started choking me.” He was so strong, fighting was useless. Your stomach turns a little bit when you think about how you almost died. And how that shouldn’t sound so hot.

Laurie was silent on the other end, probably waiting for you to finish.

“I think he dropped me. The next thing I knew I was on the floor and he left the room”,

“That’s impossible, he would’ve finished the job…” Laurie mumbles through the phone. You were wondering the same thing yourself.

You recount how you tried to escape the house, how he was waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs, how he pulled you down on the steps. And how he just left.

You feel drained at the end of it and you doubt that she has an answer for you.

“You need to call the police, he can’t have gone far!”, she sounds angry now.

You huff a defeated laugh. “The cops aren’t gonna help me, they said I was wasting their time and I told them to go fuck themselves...it happened last night anyway, it’s too late now.”

You wince and pull the phone away from your ear at Laurie’s ensuing exclamation.

“-and you didn’t think to call me immediately?!”

You don’t offer an excuse other than the thought ‘I mean I was stupid enough to buy the house anyway.’ *** You triple checked the locks and windows, locked your bedroom door, and slept soundly enough with your bat.

Work wasn’t until noon, but you woke up early to see what you could do about the bruises on your neck. The finger prints turned a mottled purple and yellow over the fading red speckling of broken blood vessels. It’ll probably freak people out, but you don’t have any concealer and it’s too hot for a scarf, so you resign yourself to getting awkward questions.

Halfway out the door, you freeze, thinking about the walk home in the dark. You can’t call off, standing at an impasse before a lightbulb goes off in your head, darting back inside to grab your bat.

It would be a bit odd to carry a small bat with you to a grocery store, so you opt to wrap it in one of your jackets to conceal it. Now you feel ready.

*** Work went about as well as you expected. Nearly every customer asked the dreaded question, and you considered giving a different story each time just for the fun of it. One of the regular old gossips heard that a car was stolen on the radio and asked if it was the same person. You told her you doubt it.

You saw Dwight and Quentin today, and their concern made you feel bad for worrying them, though you don’t know why. You just told them you were mugged and didn’t want to talk about it.

You waved goodbye to Quentin at eight and slipped your bat out of its shroud when you hit the sidewalk. The glow of the streetlights thinned as you walked, but you kept the bat close to your chest anyway. You don’t want the cops to question you after getting on your bad side.

Halfway home, you hear footsteps behind you. You try to look out of the corner of your eye, paranoid. The figure is much smaller than Michael, you sigh in relief. It was too loud to be him anyway.

The back of your shirt is yanked back, giving your shoulders a rug burn as it pulls against your neck harshly.

The point of a pocket knife is thrust into your view over your left shoulder. ‘Am I getting mugged? What an awful coincidence-’ passes through your brain before a harsh voice accompanied by bad breath and the stench of cigarette invades your space.

“Empty your pockets.”

You’re free hand goes up in response to the knife and the man rifles through your jacket and pants pockets, finding only your house key and throwing it on the ground before shoving you.

“No wallet, huh? What’re you carrying, then? I’ll take that.”

Your brain is on autopilot, slowly turning your body with your left hand up in surrender.

“I’m carrying...this” you move like your gesturing it out to him from under your jacket, and when he leans in you swing it like a backhand across his face before turning and running.

Briefly, you hear “you mother fucker!” behind you before he pursues and you start to panic. You didn’t think this through very far.

You make it to the corner of the street and cut through a yard as you turn, running home but with no key. A body connects with yours and you hit the grass on your stomach, knocking the wind out of you. You wheeze with the weight on your back and feel your attacker grab your hair and try to slam your head into the ground.

Kicking your legs into him does nothing, until you feel him suddenly lift off of you and hit the ground. Rolling over, you see a large dark figure loom over the thug on the ground. His angry jeers get cut off by a heavy boot stomped on his chest. You hear ribs crack and then a strangled yelp before a dark spray of blood hits the navy jumpsuit.

Scrambling backwards until you can stand, your wide eyes stare into the white face of the mask that turns to you. He closes the gap and holds a clenched fist toward you.

It’s a staring contest you lose, looking down at his hand, the one that almost ended your life. You hold out your hand.

Into it drops your bloody house key.

*** You get home severely shaken by tonight’s events. After giving you the key, he wiped the blood off his knife on that arm’s sleeve. He lets you leave, but makes it obvious that he’s watching.

You have to wipe the blood off your key when you go to use it. You hope it doesn’t stain this jacket. The house is dark and silent, almost oppressively so. You go to head to the comfort of your room, before begrudgingly walking back down the stairs to check the lock on the back door.

It’s still locked. You peer out the back window.

Almost completely obscured by the dark, a white mask stands vigilant at the fence.

You’re both tired, and filled with butterflies. You open the back porch door and stare back for a long moment. Then you wordlessly go up to bed, letting the door close behind you and making a show not to lock it.

You still lock your bedroom door.

#Michael Myers #michael myers x reader #Slashers #slasher x reader #male reader #trans writers #choking curiosity #content warning #violence

[bang-to-the-tan]

Vessel Euphoria Chapter 3

► SciFi!AU

Thriller

Warnings: Major Character Death, Mind Control, Upsetting Themes Throughout, Alien Parasitism

↳ Summary: 6 months ago, the crew of the space vessel “Euphoria”—destined for a scientific study on a distant planet—dropped out of all communication. You and your fellow crewmates are inbound to reestablish communication with home base, but things are not as they seem and the fate of the mission is placed in grave danger.

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“Navigation, checking in.” Jimin clicks into his comm, but even as he speaks, his eyes are glued to the drone’s screen, brows furrowed.

“Go ahead, Specialist Park.” Officer Jung’s voice replies immediately.

“Flight path successfully altered, estimated twenty minutes to touch down. Radial landing perimeter north by northwest of the secondary communications tower. Speed reduction under way, landing gear primed.”

“Excellent work.”

Even your commanding officer’s praise makes less of a mark than usual on your companion’s face. You know he’s concerned by what you’ve seen. Usually, that kind of compliment would light him up for days.

“Communications found something of note, sir.”

“Then I would like to speak with communications.”

Jimin’s plush lips quirk briefly into a frown, but he looks to you with an expectant expression. “Yes, sir. Signing off.”

“Thank you, Park. Call in at touch down.”

“Communications, checking in, sir.” You pick up the line just as Jimin gets off it.

“Go ahead.”

“Secondary drone successfully implemented and monitoring the altered destination. Initial drone recovered and recharging. Strip is cleared for landing, and the secondary tower appears functional.”

“Good. Jimin said you had something to add?”

“Yes, sir. It looks like…it looks like someone has burnt a pathway to the base from primary.”

“Recently, I’m guessing.”

“Yeah.”

“Scorcher?”

“Can’t be. Pattern’s too erratic.”

It’s quiet down the line.

Finally, he crackles back in.

“Proceed with caution. I don’t know what the hell they’ve been doing down there, but with the communications offline, I don’t want to take any chances.”

“Wait a minute…You think someone from Euphoria has gone…rogue?” Jimin butts in, leaning over your shoulder, eyes wide, jaw dropped disbelievingly.

“Pardon the French, but with a weird-ass situation like this one, thinking isn’t really the best course of action. We’re all just going to be really careful and hope it’s something harmless. Do we understand?”

“Yes, sir. That’s all.”

“Call in at touch down.” This time, he sounds concerned. Insistent. He’s got a lot on his plate, you know that, and this isn’t getting any easier. He won’t admit it, though. He’s too professional for that. If only you could share his optimism—or at least, the optimism he pretends to have.

“Yes, sir. Signing off.”

 There’s a silence between you and Jimin for a moment, and you both glance at each other with varying levels of curiosity.

“Who do you think it is?” His tone is quiet, like if he talks too loudly, Hoseok will hear him through the comms and tell him off for gossip.

“Navigations would make sense,” you reply, accidentally just as hushed. “Reworking routes to secondary is one of his maintenance chores.”

“I didn’t see any of his landmarks. Doesn’t look like a breadcrumb trail—it looks like it’s one-way. It was only burnt up to the secondary tower, not back.”

“Maybe it’s isolation?” You offer. “If Yoongi’s right and there was a fight or something, then…? Maybe someone’s being held out there.”

“What, like, Lord of the Flies or some shit? All ‘rule of the jungle’ down there?” He’s partially joking, but the way his brows crease tell you it’s only partially.

“You and jungles.” You roll your eyes. It doesn’t do anything to lighten the heavy mood. “I trust Hoseok, anyway. He’s probably right. It won’t do us any good to sit here and talk about what it might be.”

“Yeah.” He doesn’t look convinced. “Yeah, you’re right.”

 Ten minutes later and Yoongi checks in as well. Damage estimates suggest a potential hull breach, but one that’s easily sealed. Easily repaired, so long as the secondary tower has some form of supply. Not the worst that it could be, but not the best. You strap into a nearby chair to wait for the minutes to pass, keeping an eye on the drone’s status and keeping any further speculation to yourself. Jimin, even, is uncharacteristically quiet as he waits, falling half-asleep propped up by the keys in his own chair.

When the Epiphany begins to hit the turn, you can feel it reverberating through her bones, rattling, groaning with the effort of bracing against the wind, the gravity, and still pulling through. Your stomach rises into your mouth at the shift, even though you know she’s doing her best to deflect the worst of it. It’s nothing new. You’ve ridden this ride so many times, you’ve practically lost count. The amount of times you’ve placed your life in the hands of this ship, and she’s always taken you through.

“Crew status.” Hoseok’s clipped voice comes through the comm.

“Navigations, ready for touch down.” Jimin replies.

“Communications, ready.” You add after he clicks off.

It’s dead quiet. One beat passes. Two.

“Maintenance, status,” Hoseok prompts.

No reply.

You throw a confused look to Jimin over your shoulder, which he returns warily, picking his head up. Yoongi isn’t ignoring your commanding officer t-minus two minutes from landing a divergent turn, is he? Surely he wouldn’t risk that. Another moment of radio silence, punctuated by Epiphany’s groan, a shudder running through the entire ship.

“Min Yoongi, report your status immediately.” He’s beginning to sound legitimately angry.

Still no answer.

You and Jimin both unbuckle and stand at the same time, throwing your chairs aside to begin walking towards the doors, paces hurried.

“He didn’t leave it off, did he?” Jimin’s already babbling, scowling. “He’s not that stupid, right?”

“He’s probably just—“ You get interrupted by the crackle of the comms line just as you pass into the hallway, and the two of you halt dead in your tracks to listen.

“The estimates are off,” Yoongi’s heavy voice finally fills the air and for a moment, your shoulders relax, relieved to hear from him, before what he’s saying registers. “The hull breach—the impact has the potential to damage the engine.”

“What kind of damage?” Hoseok replies, terse. Another shudder, this time more violent, ripples through the vessel and it makes you stagger, your feet unsteady.

“Debris. If the hull cracks, it’ll crack inwards. I’m gonna have to secure the engine from the inside.”

“There’s no time!” Jimin grabs at his comm to reply, jaw agape. “Yoongi, there’s two minutes to landing, you need to be secure!” “Why didn’t you catch this before?” You demand. The ship creaks again, shaking, but you’re moving forward, reaching to brace yourself on the doorframe as the floor roils beneath you, keeping your communicator close to your chest. “You can’t—“

“Estimates read for damage outside the ship, not inside. Slight oversight on my part.”

“Slight my ass,” Jimin seethes.

“Get into a secure position, Min, we’ll deal with the hull after landing.”

“Can’t risk it.”

You’re trying to run towards the engine room, but the movement beneath your feet is steadily becoming more and more violent as the Ephiphany nears her destination, bucking against the inertia and snatching footholds from your grasp. You almost pitch forward when another vibration rocks the ship, but strong hands curl around your arms and yank you back, steadying you briefly.

“Thanks,” you throw to Jimin.

“Yeah.” he replies, short. You’re both doing your best to make your way down the hall, staggering like drunks as the universe tilts.

“You’re insane,” you spit down the line, nearly tripping over yourself at another shockwave. “Yoongi, we’re too close to contact, you need to get to safety. We’re coming to help secure—“

“If I don’t do something now, there’s no point,” he replies quickly, interrupting. You can hear him grunting under his breath with effort. The snap of something as it locks in place. You pray it’s him, that he’s strapped into a seat, but you know it isn’t. “The system won’t be able to take it. We can refuel if anything hits the tank. Fixing the engine will take a lot longer. It needs to be out of the way.”

“This is an order, every single member of this ship needs to—“

Another groan.

There is a brief moment of intuition that flashes through you, lightning hot and lasting a hair of a second.

Something is wrong.

Your arm is already reaching out of its own accord, powered by years of training, grabbing onto Jimin more firmly as the two of you simultaneously crash into each other like comets pulled into orbit, throwing yourselves to the ground, overlapping limbs, shielding the backs of your heads. Epiphany screeches, groans, and the thud as she hits sends you and Jimin into the air, scrabbling for anything you can hold onto, pin yourselves to the ground as much as possible as the entire ship bucks up under you, creaking and shrieking. Your fingers ache, but find a hold in the grates of the floor, clutching yourself to them as close as possible. Your ears fill with static, the cacophony of things crashing, falling to the floor, breaking, in the other rooms. Jimin shouts something but you’re honed in to the comms, breath baited, waiting for the tremors, the noise, to stop. Your world whirls violently, shakes, and you almost slip from your crewmate’s grasp as the ship again shivers but the quakes die out, fading, rolling, the ambient noise quieting. Silence. Your ears are ringing.

Jimin recovers from his shock faster than you do, untangling his arm shakily to push your hair out of your face, coaxing your head to turn to him. He searches your eyes for any sign that you’re still spinning.

“Are you okay?”

You do a mental checklist of your limbs, but everything’s fine. You’ll be sore later, you’re sure. A few bruises, probably. “Fine. I’m fine.” You say finally. “You?”

“Fine.”

He nods once, pushing you away slightly to grab for his comm again, but Hoseok beats him to the line.

“Yoongi? Yoongi!”

Nothing. Fear, real fear, attempts to curl in your chest, but you press your aching palms against the floor and push up anyway, helping Jimin up as you go, already stumbling in the direction of the engine room again before your vision even stops revolving the world sickeningly around you.

“Are you guys okay?”

“We’re fine,” you click in. “A little dizzy, but we rode it out in the hall. Headed to engine room.”

“I’ll meet you there.”

 Your officer catches up with you just as you make it to the door. The clipboard up by the door has been thrown violently to the other side of the hall, scattering official papers about the floor. Inadvertently, your mind drifts to who’s going to spend an afternoon reshuffling them.

“Rode it out in the hall?” Hoseok frowns as he looks the two of you over, already reaching to key into the engine room. “You sure you’re okay?”

“A little beaten up. Probably have one hell of a bruise on my thigh.”

“Serves you right—I told you to strap down.”

“We were trying to help Yoongi,” Jimin replies, eyes wide, indignant.

“Yoongi? You alright in there?” Hoseok ignores him, too urgent and too close to throwing himself through the narrow opening as the doors slide open slowly. The three of you take surveying glances about the small room before entering.

Jimin whistles, low, and the sound echoes off the high ceiling.

‘Hull breach’. Yeah. You can see where the floor connected with the planet’s surface, the grates bent and snapped inwards, reaching dangerously close to the fuel tank to the left. But the engine is secured above your heads, humming away, intact and untouched by the chaos below. You can’t see to the right, on account of your officer blocking the way. You go to look over him but come up short. Hoseok’s arm suddenly flying across you to usher all three of you backwards and out has you starting in shock, looking to him and being even more surprised at the expression he’s wearing as the door hisses closed again.

“Contamination breach,” he says, low. “Masks.”

You and Jimin are already flying to the emergency hatch only a few paces to the left wall, injuries forgotten for the adrenaline, grabbing at the oxygen masks.

“Orul’s atmosphere is breathable.” Jimin’s arguing, but he’s still strapping it over his head, pulling it tight, turning to help you with yours. “We know that.”

“What part of proceed with caution are you having difficulty understanding, Specialist Park?” your officer snaps back. “If I was worried about the air I would have said something about air, but did I?”

“No, sir.”

“What did I say?”

“Contamination breach, sir.”

“Fan-fucking-tastic, so your ears do work, Park?”

“They do, sir, sorry, sir.” Is the terse reply, slightly muffled by the mask’s speaker.

Masks running, delivering fresh oxygen to fill your lungs with cool air, the three of you give each other quick look-overs before you return to the engine door. This time, as it cranes open, Hoseok leaps through and immediately you can see what caught his attention.

“Yoongi!” You’re already running, nearly tripping over Hoseok, stumbing over the upturned pieces of ship beneath your feet.

He’s sitting on the floor, clutching the securing strap for the cracked energy tank behind him with both hands, which for a moment you’re petrified he’s caught on. But no, your officer is already prying his fingers off it. He must have just had a hell of a grip on it. There’s blood running from his nose down his lip and what looks to be the making of a pretty bruise on the side of his face. Parts of his suit are shredded, and one of his legs is stuck beneath an uprooted grate. There’s pieces of those plants from the monitors that must have come in through the breach, torn up by the landing and decorating him with blood-red petals and bright yellow pollen that coats his clothing, his hair, his skin. The leaves are a lot bigger in person than you would’ve thought—about the size of your forearm—and for some reason, the idea is discomforting. As you all crowd closer, one single-minded unit as you endeavor to lift him off his feet and support him, you and Hoseok under each arm, Jimin extricating his limbs from the debris surrounding him, his eyes crack open and he throws all of you a sideways glance before closing them with a sigh. The readings screen on the tank behind him is glitching, but what you can make of it at a glance when he moves is that it’s damaged and leaking.

“Yoongi, can you hear me? Can you understand? You know where you are?”

“In big trouble?” he slurs, low, licking his lips.

“Oh, you fucking know it, buddy boy,” Hoseok chuckles breathlessly as you all make your slow way to the hall. “Nail on the head, Min, what the fuck were you thinking?”

The mechanic sniffles, winces with a slight groan when you have to jostle him a little to fit through the doorway, your group going sideways. “Engine’s safe. Fuel tank’s damaged.”

“Saw that. What the fuck hit it?”

“Me.”

“Dumbass. Dumb. Ass.”

“Like a godamned pinball machine.”

“What do I win?”

“A swift kick, you moron.”

 You and Hoseok maneuver him to the other side of the hallway, Jimin moving his legs so he can sit on the floor. He’s blinking, squinting against the harsh lights as he takes in sharp breaths through his teeth.

“Ribs hurt,” he counts off, under his breath. “Hit the metal casing before I grabbed the strap. Hit my head, my cheek.”

“Yeah, we can see that already.” You stand, stepping to where you got the suits, pressing a panel for the first aid kit inside and taking it back with you. “You’re turning purple. Any teeth missing, pretty boy?”

“Ladies love battle damage. Everyone digs scars,” he slurs back, slurping around the blood and saliva gathering in his mouth. “And not yet, I don’t think.”

“I hear not having teeth is the new having them.” You snort, crouching to wipe at his face with the antiseptic to clean the pollen from the scratches. It’s thick, heavy, and doesn’t come away easily but you aren’t going to have him getting some otherworldly infection. Jimin gets up, jerking his head towards the engine room and patting Yoongi’s shoulder reassuringly.

“Gonna check damage.”

“I tried.” Yoongi puts in, suddenly, shifting, eyes painfully earnest as he casts them upwards. “Was just trying to keep it from being worse.”

Jimin’s grip on his shoulder briefly squeezes, a soft smile pulling at one corner of his mouth.

“It’s okay.” He says, his tone gentle, and you know now all has been forgiven. Not surprising. The longest a disagreement lasted between the two was three weeks—and disagreeing over a flight path is not exactly on the same par as ‘borrowing reading material’. Not as personal.

“Stop moving,” you chastise as an aside, finishing cleaning the marks on his face and moving to check his neck, his arms, for any other injuries. He allows you limply, blinking and turning to look at Hoseok, who is squatting on his other side, uncharacteristically silent through the exchange.

“…I should be dismissed for that.”

Your officer nods to the side, cocking his head with a faint, rueful grin. “Yeah. Yeah.” His eyebrows flit upwards. “You should.”

“Put in quarantine, sent back home as soon as the mission’s over.”

“Hm.”

Yoongi moves uncomfortably again, looking to the floor. His tongue flits between his lips. “My mom will be so disappointed in me. Best job I’ve ever had.”

You don’t comment, moving to check where his suit has torn. Small scratches, nothing major.

“Move your leg for me?” He kicks it out slowly, then retracts it with a wince. “Bruises?” You guess.

He nods.

“Best paying job.” Hoseok corrects, rolling his tongue to his cheek.

“Best boss.” Hoseok looks over at him with a disbelieving smirk, eyes slanted. “I’m not kissing ass. I’m being serious.”

“Other leg, Yoongi, move it.” He does so, but easily this time. “Bruises?”

“Not on that side.” His gaze is fixed on the other man, as close to ‘heartfelt’ as you’ve maybe ever seen him. “I’m sorry I couldn’t have been a better technician. A better mechanic. Better…better friend.”

“What are you, dying now?”

“Might as fuckin’ well.”

“Don’t be dramatic.”

There’s a silence, then, that settles between them. You take the opportunity to straighten, clearing your throat.

“You’ve probably got a concussion from knocking your empty melon against the tank, and if I had to guess I’d say your ribs are bruised on the left side. But other than that, you should be alright in a few days.”

“Just in time to get sent back home.”

“You aren’t going anywhere.”

“I’m not?” His deep voice has never sounded so small.

It’s Hoseok’s turn, now, to place a hand on his shoulder, digging his thumb in absently.

“It was a stupid thing to do. And yeah, you should be dismissed.” He shakes his head, slow. “But if Epiphany can kick the shit out of you and still forgive you, so can I.”

Yoongi watches him carefully, but you can see the flash of adoration, no matter how quickly he tries to smother it with a small cough and turn to the side.

“Fuel tank’s completely drained,” Jimin speaks up suddenly from your back. “We’ve got the one backup, but we’ll need extra supply if we’re gonna make it home. Need a new tank.”

“Shouldn’t be a problem,” Hoseok replies, back to business in a moment. “Secondary station should be equipped.” He stands, straightening, rolling his neck and shoulders.

“Okay. So. I’m going to take Dumbass McDoesn’t-Follow-Orders through decon shower and deposit his sorry ass in the med bay.”

“You’ve been talking about my butt an awful lot.”

“And the shower,” you point out with a grin. “A decontamination shower, no less. Steamy. I said you were Jung’s favorite.”

Jimin doesn’t look ready to joke just yet.

“Me and Communications’ll head out to the secondary,” he says instead, sounding oddly restless. “We’ll pick up any med supplies we need restocked and scope out a replacement energy tank.”

“Sounds good. Reconvene in thirty. Obviously, our mechanic is out of commission for a little bit—“

“I can still work,” Yoongi complains, leaning his head against the wall. Hoseok ignores him.

“—but we’ve all been through the courses. Second, third, and fourth best will have to do.”

“Yes, sir.” You and Jimin both nod, turning on your heels to walk to the front of the ship.

 You hardly notice the residual damage the rough landing has done to the Epiphany; to be fair, she’s had worse. Half of her isn’t even the original model. It’s all cobbled together from scraps of older versions.

But what’s pulling your attention instead is the look of intense concentration on Jimin’s face.

“You alright, Jimin?” you call softly, watching with concern the way he stares unseeingly at the floor ahead of you.

“I’ll be fine.”

“He wasn’t really hurt.”

“Yeah.” He nods, slow. “Yeah. I know that.” He looks to you, eyes big. “That was scary, though, right?”

“It was. But everyone’s okay in the end.”

His head cocks, returning his thousand yard stare to the void. “I don’t know. I have a really bad feeling.”

“What about?”

“Just everything.”

 The rest of your trek is spent in complete silence.

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#bts fanfic #bts thriller au #bts sci fi au #vessel euphoria #oh man here we go lmao #this is the point when the rollercoaster starts making NOISE #TAK TAK TAK TAK :))

[ladytp]

(EDIT: Oops, I thought I had posted this already a while ago but apparently forgot, as it still sat in my drafts... D’oh!)

The second and the last chapter of my Sansan Christmas in July 2019 fic to @sincerelydayyy, “Jumping from the Ropes” takes us into the conclusion of this short and hopefully sweet story… “The Jump” is also up at AO3. Merry Christmas in July once again!

Sansa

The Hound had been right: the shit did hit the fan soon after.

Bobby Baratheon suffered a massive cardiac arrest, and while he was recuperating in the hospital, his wife and co-owner Cersei Lannister called a meeting of the WWA board and announced a ‘friendly’ takeover with her and Joffrey at its helm. The board agreed, and sooner than one could say ‘contractual obligations’, Ned Stark was out of a job.

He took it well though, telling Sansa that he preferred not to work for ‘that woman’ anyway. In a family meeting it was decided that Ned would fly home and consider his next step back in the North, while Sansa would finish her semester before following him.

As for the Hound, Sansa saw him in the shows, of course, defending his championship and delivering his characteristic brusque promos, threatening to gut any of the ‘gnats’ who imagined themselves to be a match for him.

He saw her too, often glancing in her direction during the show and between the matches. Sansa was usually seated in the prime seating area – advantages of the Premier Pass she had received from her father and which even Cersei in her pettiness hadn’t revoked. That meant that she was close enough to the action to be fully aware of his looming presence and attention – which, however, was quickly withdrawn when she looked back at him.

Only once had he and Sansa spoken, and that more by accident than by design. She had gone backstage after the show, and when turning the corner, had almost collided with him, only her abrupt halt preventing a head-on crash. Instead, she had found herself eye level with his sweaty, heaving chest, covered with dark hair.

While Sansa had murmured her apologies, he had asked what she was doing there and if she was looking for someone. Then Joffrey had walked past and greeted her – and The Hound had slid away without another word.

Still assailed by the intensity of their meeting at the party, Sansa had stooped as low – as per her usual standards – as to find out everything she could about him from the internet, searching by both his ring-name and his real name, Sandor Clegane. His biography was scanty, he rarely featured in news or articles outside the usual wrestling sites, and his social media presence was non-existent. His only entry on Twitter, apparently forced upon the employees by the WWA, was a one-liner, “So here I am – enjoy”, not followed by any other tweets.

Even adding “girlfriend” after his real or ring-name didn’t bring up any hits in Google – which was unusual by itself. If not real news, most wrestlers’ profiles were inundated with gossip and speculation about who they were dating or not – but not him.

All she could glean from her search was his career development from a solitary youth, who had discovered pro-wrestling as an outlet to whatever demons he had on his back - and now Sansa knew what they were – via indie circles, hard-core death-matches and small promotions, all the way to the WWA. That, and that the cause of his scars was universally accepted to be a house-fire in his bedroom when he had been just a child - just as he had first told. His brother’s – another wrestler in the WWA under the ring-name ‘The Mountain’ – web entries had lots of information about his career, but no hints about the atrocity he had committed.

---

It was the day of Sansa’s departure. She had packed all her belongings and sent most of them ahead by airfreight, leaving only one carry-on bag to take with her on her flight.

She eyed her room for the last time. It had been a good year and she had enjoyed every moment of it, and part of her felt sorry to leave it all behind, but another part was keen to get back home to her family and friends. This year things were going to be different for her: she was going to move away from her parents’ house, possibly with her best friend Jeyne. She was going to focus on finishing her studies, maybe get a part-time job… she was going to start her adult life for real.

Sansa sighed and glanced at her watch. She still had a few more hours to kill before she had to be at the airport so she decided to pay one last visit to her favourite café only a block away.

Stepping out of the front door, she was hit by a blast of brilliant sunshine. The weather was warm and there was a hint of spring in the air, lifting her spirits even higher. The sun in her eyes blinded her so that when she first heard the humming sound of a car engine slowing down beside her and heard a shout, she had to squint her eyes and cover her brow to see better.

“Little Bird!”

The car was big and black, one of those four-wheel utility drives favoured by rugged outdoorsmen and adventurers with extra cash. The tinted side window lowered and she saw the man driving it.

The Hound.

“Hello,” was all she could manage, surprised by his unexpected appearance. Why was he here – had he come to find her? Or maybe it was just a coincidence that he was driving by at that precise moment?

“You have a minute?”

The car had stopped right next to her, but the motor was still running. If she said no, explaining that she was in a hurry, would he take her at her word and drive away?

The thing was, she didn’t feel like saying no.

“I do have a moment, but not much more than that,” she said, bending to peer through the window. She saw the same big black dog on the backseat, its ears perking up as it saw her. The Hound reached for the door handle and with a click, the door opened.

Once Sansa had settled in the seat, the Hound steered the car to the first available parking spot and stopped, this time turning the ignition off. The silence following the death of the motor was deafening - he didn’t even have a radio on.

“So, how are you?” Sansa asked. That’s what people ask after not seeing each other for a while, don’t they?

“I’m leaving.”

“You’re leaving WWA?”

“Everything.” The Hound’s hands rested on the steering wheel, which looked awfully small in comparison. The backs of his hands were hairy but his fingers were unexpectedly long and there was something delicate in the way he slowly rubbed the spokes of the wheel, probably not even realising he was doing it.

“I told Cersei she can shove my contract where the sun doesn’t shine and packed my bags. I’m done with the Baratheons and Lannisters.”

Well, he had told her so, so Sansa wasn’t terribly surprised.

“What do you plan to do?” she asked, out of genuine interest.

“Don’t know yet. I could be a free agent for a while, wrestle in indie circles.” He looked at Sansa then. “I think I’ll leave the city, go somewhere else for a while. North, maybe.”

Sansa’s heart started to race. It was quite ridiculous, really. What was it to her what he decided to do? In the name of mutual sharing, she decided, however, to tell him about her plans.

“I’m leaving too. As a matter of fact, I have to be at the airport shortly for my flight to Wintertown.”

“I know.”

“How?”

“Cersei told me.”

“She did?” Sansa remembered mentioning her departure in the parting email she had sent to Bobby and Cersei. They had been welcoming to her and her father when they had first arrived and it was only good manners to bid them farewell, no matter how things between their families had ended. Besides, Ned and Bobby’s friendship still endured, and Bobby had sworn to pay his old friend a visit as soon as he had recovered enough to do so.

The Hound turned to her fully. “I could give you a ride.”

“That’s very nice of you, but I’ll be fine. I only have a carry-on bag and I can easily take an Uber,” Sansa said.

She wouldn’t have really minded accepting the offer, but what would have been the point of it? They were probably not going to see each other again, and the awkwardness of their interactions was unlikely to pass during the short drive to the airport. There was something between them, Sansa had realised over the last few weeks, something that had been ignited that evening at the university party. Something unsure and fragile, something that was more of a promise of potential rather than a thing on its own.

Yet it didn’t matter. Even should he move to the North and wrestle there, their life situations were so far apart that…

“I didn’t mean to the airport.”

Sansa’s trail of thought was so abruptly interrupted, she was confused at first. If not to the airport, then –

Oh!

“You can’t mean Wintertown? It’s halfway across the country!”

“I know.” Seemingly realising that it was not enough, The Hound continued. “I like driving. And I’d hate to confine Stranger in one of those crates for the flight. And I couldn’t leave him behind.” He reached to scratch the ear of the dog, who had poked its head between the seats. Sansa looked at the dog warily. Those breeds had a reputation, after all.

“Go on, pat him. He’s a big sook,” The Hound urged – and she did. The dog’s fur was silky and soft and its nose, when it sniffed her hand, was cold and wet. Tentatively, it licked her fingers.

Sansa’s head was whirling. For her, the notion was crazy. It would take at least four or five days to drive up, whereas in a plane it would be a matter of hours. She would be back at home this same night, embraced by her mother and her many siblings. Why should she even consider such an offer?

“That’s a very long drive,” she offered. As if he didn’t know.

“They say the route along the coast is pretty. And the scenery in the Vale is supposed to be breathtaking. I might take a few side trips. Haven’t seen enough of this country, as it is.”

The Hound glanced out of the window, which he had wound down when they had stopped. He might have appeared nonchalant and not caring a whit whether Sansa accepted his offer or not, but his fingers, tapping against the wheel at an increasing tempo, gave him away.

He is nervous, Sansa realised, to her astonishment. And something warm started to bloom inside her chest.

Every sensible brain cell in her head screamed 'NO' – it would be the height of stupidity to ditch the plane and join a man she hardly knew for such a long ride. Gods, if her mother knew she was even passingly contemplating it, she would have a fit.

And yet, every cell in her body and every nerve-ending that was ignited by his proximity screamed 'YES'.

She would be safe with him. It didn’t make sense to think so, but deep in her core, Sansa knew it to be so. True, he was a gamble, all odds stacked against him – but maybe he was worth the risk.

“Okay, then,” she breathed out.

The fingers stopped their drumming and The Hound stiffened. His eyes widened and brows lifted so high that it actually looked a bit comical, and Sansa had to stifle her instinct to giggle.

“Okay what?”

“I accept your offer. I need to call the airline to cancel my ticket – luckily it’s fully flexible – and get my bag from my room, and then we can be on our way.” She glanced at the back of the car and saw two large suitcases and a couple of boxes. “Do you have all your stuff with you already?”

“You’re for real?” The Hound stared at her, brows furrowed. “I mean… we wouldn’t have to take any side tours. And we could drive just as fast and directly as you want. And stay in proper hotels for the nights – in separate rooms, of course.”

Was that a flush creeping up his face? Sansa’s amusement grew. He was like a dog chasing after a car, who didn’t know what to do when one actually stopped.

“I’d certainly hope so; I hardly know you. But side trips would be fine. I haven’t seen enough of this country myself.”

Getting no answer from his flustered companion, Sansa clutched her handbag in her lap and straightened herself in her seat. “Well, I better get my things and make the necessary calls. Can you take us into the parking lot next to my building, the big red one in front of which you saw me?”

It took a moment longer before The Hound acted, turning the ignition on and manoeuvring the car around.

“What should I call you, then? I think ‘The Hound’ may not be quite appropriate. I know your real name is Sandor – do you mind if I call you that?” Sansa asked while he was reversing into an empty spot.

“Ah, yeah, sure – call me Sandor,” he muttered, seemingly still in shock at the turn of events.

“My name is Sansa, not a Little Bird. Can you wait for just a moment, Sandor? I’ll be right back.”

When Sansa climbed the stairs to her room, something vibrant and exciting started to bubble inside her. She felt lightheaded and couldn’t stop grinning. The whole thing was outlandish and bizarre and against all common sense.

It was… as if she had just climbed up the turnbuckle again and was standing high up, looking into the bright lights of the stadium, into the middle of the ring, so far away. She was nervous, she was anxious – but it felt right. Sandor was going to be there to catch her if she leapt.

It was time to jump from the ropes.

                            -- THE END --

#SanSan Secret Santa #SanSan Christmas in July 2019 #gotfic #sansan #Jumping From The Ropes #my fic #better late than never