#class enemy

[fishyfishyfishtimes]

It's always so weird to come down from the biology heavens to see what the average person believes about animals, plants, ecosystems, just the world around them. I don't even mean things that one simply doesn't know because they've never been told or things that are confusing, I'm talking about people who genuinely do not see insects as animals. What are you saying. Every time I see a crawling or fluttering little guy I know that little guy has motivations and drive to fulfill those motivations. There are gears turning in their head! They are perceiving this world and they are drawing conclusions, they are conscious. And yet it's still a whole thing if various bugs of the world feel pain or if they are simply Instinct Machines that are Not Truly Aware of Anything At All????? Help!!!!!! How can you look at a little guy and think he is just the macroscopic animal version of a virus

[classjezter]

Baby prime chapter 2 - Welcome to the Decepticons

Part 3

First | Previous | Next

AU Masterlist

[lara-cairncross]

they get along (lying)

[summerfullofsnow]

Na Baekjin. Are you all right?

[fellthemarvelous]

Deny. Defend. Depose.

It is clear to those of us that live in America, the only people we truly have on our side are ourselves. The ruling class has made it clear we don't matter to them.

Luigi Mangione was arrested and happened to have every single piece of evidence on him that law enforcement was looking for, including the parts for the ghost gun, inside his backpack (that he also got rid of in Central Park containing the Monopoly money???). Either he was trying to get caught or that evidence was planted. And when he was being forcefully pushed into the jail, he hollered back to the press about "injustice" and "being an insult to the intelligence of American citizens and our lived experiences."

The people have now turned against corporate America and the CEOs and billionaires are fucking terrified. Nothing the news stations are saying to us are changing our minds. The American people have finally united over this issue and there is no going back for us. Whoever did kill Brian Thompson (and theories abound on the game The Adjuster is playing because no one plays Monopoly alone) exposed the very real divide that exists between every day citizens and the extremely wealthy. Things were easier for them to control when they were able to divide us, but now that we are aware of how uncertain our future is in America and seeing just how little we matter to the people who take our money, we have realized that we have more in common with each other than the people who control every aspect of our lives. We are waking up.

There isn't one person in this country who hasn't been a victim to the predatory scam that is private health insurance. Medical debt is the leading cause of bankruptcy in America, and many of us are one ambulance ride or hospital stay away from homelessness. We all know people who have died because the insurance company denied them the treatment they needed or waited until it was too late for an approval of a medical claim to matter anymore.

Recently, I decided to be tested for autism and ADHD. Not life-threatening or anything, but my life is still in shambles and I want to know if I'm going untreated for something else. Before being tested though, I was informed that the insurance company (Aetna) has said that they were going to cover the full cost of the testing I was having (which was six hours of testing by the way). She even made sure several times that they were, in fact, going to cover it in full and they said yes.

The same day that Brian Thompson, CEO of another horrible healthcare company, was murdered in broad daylight, I received a call from that doctor's office with the woman telling me that Aetna was now telling her they never agreed to cover my testing and that they are going to bill me for $1600 (where the hell am I supposed to get that?) and she is fighting them, but considering our lives don't matter to the people who tell us what healthcare we are and are not allowed to receive, I don't think they will feel compelled to change their minds because they are bloodsucking parasites who only care about lining their pockets while I don't even have $6 lying around, let alone $1600!!

Corporate America leeches off our taxes. They take and take and take and we see nothing in return. They raise prices on insurance coverage and then deny us the very coverage that we pay for. They poison our food, price gouge our poisoned food, and then force us to pay for the treatment we get when the food makes us sick. Corporate America profits off of our hard work, our taxes, our health, our lives, our deaths.

I don't know if this will reach a larger audience or not, but I wanted to talk about it on Tumblr because this platform seems to be a crossroads for every type of creative soul. I initially brought up this idea on TikTok earlier, but I want to see if it can get traction in other places as well since I have fewer than 3,000 followers on TikTok (and I have seen a small few express interest in my idea in the hours since I posted the video.)

We're busy being lectured by politicians and the news media because while they are clutching their pearls at what happened to Brian Thompson, the rest of us do not give one single flying fuck about what happened to him. As CEO of a for-profit health insurance company, he signed off on denied claims and death for those of us who struggle to make it from one day to the next. The sicker you are, the poorer you are, the more they force you to struggle and pay. The love to deny coverage because regardless of whether we live or die, they already have the money we are forced to pay them.

I don't condone murder at all, but I also don't care that he was murdered because he was guilty of murdering so many more people in this country through legal means because it's profitable. The CEOs are scared and there are wanted posters with their names and faces popping up in places. Every CEO of every healthcare company is guilty of murdering Americans and they continue to go unpunished for it because "it's just business".

So (if you've read this far) all of this previous rambling is to say that I keep thinking about how I want to make an impression. I want to continue upsetting the billionaires and the CEOs because corporate America is full of murderers who are legally allowed to decide whether we live or die based on which outcome will give them more money.

I have thought about the idea of creating a wall/constructing a wall somewhere as an art piece or something (making a statement) that will somehow honor the memory of people who died because insurance denied them care.

I know I definitely want it to say something along the lines of "In memory of those murdered by for-profit healthcare systems in corporate America". Something blatant. Loud. Something they are forced to look at every single day. Somehow. The wall could have images of those who are gone, or names of the person who died with the name of the insurance company responsible for their death underneath. Just something to make it clear that we see them for what they are. Something to avenge those who were sacrificed so billionaires and CEOS and shareholders could brag about record profits. Something that shows the whole world that American citizens are waking up to who the real monsters are.

The Adjuster (whoever he is or is not) has fanned the flames of revolution in America. He managed to unite us in a way I can't even recall before. It's not over. We know what happened to Brian Thompson was just the beginning, and corporate America only just now realized how much we actually hate them. A single shooter has sparked an awakening in America that is starting to snowball into something much bigger.

So if there is anyone out there who might be interested in collaborating on something like this, please let me know. I know we are all tired and demoralized and we have no money. I want to make a statement though, and I love doing that through art or writing. Collaborating with other people who have been through this same shit will also probably help us unite even more.

This is a watershed moment in American history.

In the words of Kanan Jarrus, Jedi Knight,

"There is a future for us. One where we're all free. But it's up to us to make it happen."

[ilyprs]

P I S T A N T H R O P H O B I A | s.geum

───𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐟𝐮𝐧 𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐧𝐮𝐦𝐛───

pistanthrophobia : the fear of trusting people, forming close romantic relationships, and being vulnerable in interpersonal connections

' in which she can't escape her first love

•seong-je x reader

•part 1. (part 2 is out on my profile !!🩷)

ׂׂૢ་༘______________________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

▶︎•၊၊||၊|။||||။၊|။•✩♬ now playing: moon |[G-IDLE]

"So, how was my performance?"

"Terrible! I feel like my ears are about to burst! Please never sing again."

"Yah! You asshole," Baku shouted before suddenly chasing Gotak around the small karaoke room where the three teenagers were hanging out. The girl sitting on the couch just sighed in annoyance, took another sip of her drink that sat on the glass table surrounded by snacks, and grabbed a handful of popcorn while watching the drama unfold between the two boys. She wasn't worried—it had become a daily routine and was nothing new to her.

"Serim, back me up, just this once!" Baku yelled again while trying to catch the fleeing Gotak who was laughing at him.He struggled because the small room was cluttered with all kinds of stuff, and Gotak was moving quickly and skillfully through the mess.

"Nope. I'm staying out of your nonsense," she said, continuing to shovel popcorn into her mouth with enjoyment and a grin on her face now.

"That's so unfair of you! I always protect you!" Baku said, clearly offended, looking at the girl. He wasn't entirely wrong, but she just shrugged lazily and kept watching the two idiots go at it.

While Baku was looking at Serim, Gotak used the distraction to escape his grip. Once he had created some distance, he looked at the time on his phone.

"Shit, it's already 5:56 PM. We've got 4 minutes to get out of here," he warned his best friends and started making his way to the messy table to throw away the empty snack packages from the karaoke table. Baku also looked away from the girl and began cleaning up. In a rush, the friend group tidied up the room before quickly heading outside.

⸻

"When can you finally come back to school, Hu-Min?" Gotak broke the silence as the three walked toward the next convenience store. The weather was still relatively chilly at night, so Lee Serim hid her face in her fluffy scarf to stay warm. She looked at the mentioned boy with interest—it had been a while since he'd last shown up at school. There was a serious reason why the eldest had been suspended, but the group never liked talking about it, so it remained unspoken between them. Everyone respected each other's boundaries. They all walked at the same pace, enjoying the cold air and the quiet of nature.

"Ah, you'll find out soon enough, trust me!" Baku said with a laugh, leaving the other two confused. Serim rolled her eyes in annoyance at his secrecy.

"Stop being so mysterious and just tell us when you're coming back, you jerk!" she snapped and gave the taller boy a gentle kick in the butt. He suddenly dropped dramatically to one knee and started yelling in mock panic. Lee Serim's eyes widened and she quickly knelt in front of him to look him in the eyes. Gotak could only laugh loudly.

"OMG, cut that crap out before someone actually believes you and comes over here!" she scolded him angrily while Hyeon-Tak watched the scene with amusement. The three had been best friends for years, and Baku's dramatic antics were nothing new. Their friendship had started shortly after Lee Serim had transferred to their school, and from day one it had felt deeper than any bond she'd ever had before with any of her old friends- which weren't many.

Baku burst into laughter when he saw the girl kneeling in front of him. She only rolled her eyes again and gave him a final smack on the head before standing up and offering him her hand. Grinning, he took it, and the three continued their way to the store.

"Did you hear? I heard there's going to be a new student at our school," Serim said, glancing at the two boys beside her. It had become a habit for Serim to always walk between the two—just in case anything happened, they could protect her. She had argued with them often, saying she was more than capable of defending herself. Her father hadn't been a famous MMA fighter for nothing—he had taught her plenty. She trained four times a week at his gym, which the boys now also attended thanks to her. Still, the boys refused to back down and were firmly convinced that she was safest walking between them. Eventually, she gave up arguing and just automatically got in between them.Even if she didn't the boys always switched places so she could be between them.

"Really? I'm curious. What kind of idiot transfers to this psycho school voluntarily?" Gotak asked, laughing.

He wasn't wrong. The school was total trash, and no one in their right mind would go there willingly. Serim hadn't transferred by choice either—it had been due to an incident at her old school. Even though she'd found her best friends there, she still hated the place with a passion. It was full of idiots who did nothing but pick on weaker students to boost their fragile egos.There were many instances where she would get in trouble for sticking up for the weaker students, even getting into multiple physical fights.

"Lee Serim transferred voluntarily," Baku commented with a grin before getting smacked on the back of the head again. He quickly apologized when he saw her angry glare, and they continued walking.

⸻

"Do you guys want anything else?" Serim asked the boys before grabbing the drinks and paying. With a bag of drinks in one hand and a lollipop in the other, she stepped out of the store. When she reached the boys, she held out the bag, and each took their respective drink. Serim popped the lollipop in her mouth, grabbed her sugar-free Red Bull, and handed Baku the bag so he could throw it away. Re-energized, the three continued their walk home—until the girl suddenly turned around in panic.

"Fuck! I forgot my wallet at the store!" she cried and quickly shoved her drink into Gotak's hands.The boys looked at each other and sighed- it wasn't anything new to them, Serim constantly forgot stuff and they always had to remind her.She ran in the opposite direction, lowering her scarf so she could see better.

"Yah, Lee Serim! Should we come with you?" Baku called after her, but she waved him off and kept running. It wasn't far to the store, so she wasn't too worried. When she arrived, she saw a group of teenage boys standing in front of it, and her stomach turned. Of course it couldn't be that easy. No way she could just walk in and grab her wallet without trouble. Internally, she cursed her luck and prayed none of the Union guys recognized her. Keeping her head down, she walked past the group and into the store.

Once inside, she took a deep breath—no one had said anything. But in the next instant, her breath caught again.

No, no, this can't be happening. Not today...

Standing at the register was the reason for her breathlessness. When the bell above the door chimed, he turned slowly to face her, locking eyes. Wordless, Lee Serim stood frozen as a thousand thoughts ran through her mind—but not a single one escaped her lips. All she wanted was to turn around and leave, to walk away and never look back. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she feared it might leap out. His face also changed instantly as he recognized her familiar eyes, and his well-known smirk spread across his lips. His gaze through his glasses was intense and intimidating, but Serim knew better. He was desperately searching for a reaction from her. Any emotion—he'd take whatever she gave. Seconds passed, feeling like hours, before he broke the silence.

"Well, look who it is," he said playfully, his smirk growing wider. Serim was still frozen in place but forced herself to take one step forward. The faster she moved, the sooner she could escape the situation. Without giving him another glance, she approached the register and looked at the cashier, completely ignoring the boy who had stepped closer.

"Excuse me, I think I left my wallet here. Have you seen it by any chance?" she asked, trying to hide the tremble in her voice to deny the boy any satisfaction. The cashier looked at her curiously, but she just gave him an impatient smile. He turned around and began looking.

Meanwhile, Geum Seong-Je reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Serim instantly slapped his hand away and turned to face him closely for the first time in ages.

Seong-Je only grinned stupidly and said, "When are you finally going to give in and talk to me again?" As he tried to reach for her again, the girl grabbed his wrist—this time, not letting go. She stared into his eyes furiously, unable to avoid his intense gaze. There was a time she had loved looking into those eyes—so full of love, comfort, and safety—but that was long gone. Too much had happened between them to forget so easily. His glasses slid slightly down his nose, and she had to restrain herself from pushing them back up like she used to. His expression softened for a moment—they were thinking the same thing. But she quickly dropped his wrist when the cashier returned. Clearing her throat, she looked at him and saw her pink wallet in his hand. She thanked him quickly and ran out of the store as fast as she could. Too many thoughts overwhelmed her—she needed to get out, to leave Seong-Je and all their memories behind.

Lost in thought, she didn't notice bumping into someone until she heard swearing at her feet.

"Ah! You stupid bitch! Are you blind or what?!" a teenage boy yelled angrily, getting up. Serim could feel his rage as his friends began circling around her.

"Watch how you talk to me, you bastard," she replied coldly, trying to push past him—but to no avail. She was getting impatient because the last thing she needed was to spend even more time near that guy who was still inside the store, probably watching her.

The boy shoved her back roughly and called out to his friends:

"Did you hear that? I think this chick needs a good slap to learn some respect." His friends clapped and cheered, supporting their idiot friend. Lee Serim looked at them with nothing but annoyance. Guys like them didn't scare her. She knew most of them were all talk and would run at the first real hit. Silently, she counted them—seven boys, some shorter than her, most looking pretty inexperienced. She could probably take them down, but she wasn't in the mood. She didn't want to dirty her clothes in this weather, and her friends were likely already looking for her. Thinking of them made her curse again—they'd definitely be worried and probably already on their way. She didn't want her friends to run into these jerks—it would only end in another bloody fight.

Still deep in thought, she caught the boy's movement from the corner of her eye as he lunged. She dodged easily, causing him to lose balance, then kicked him in the back, knocking him down. Just as he tried to get up and strike again, a familiar voice interrupted him. Serim's entire body had a physical reaction to his voice and she tried to ignore it.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing, asshole?" The voice was unmistakable, and a few of the boys gasped. They knew they had screwed up and would pay for it. Lee Serim looked up toward the kiosk and met his eyes again. This time, they weren't playful—they were furious. Before things could escalate, Serim heard a voice from farther away.

"Yah, Serim! Where are you?" Baku's voice rang out, and she swore under her breath. Fuck! If Baku and Gotak ran into Seong-Je and the Union guys, it would be a disaster. She quickly gathered herself and ran out of the circle, heading for her friends. The boys quickly avoided her and let her get through without even looking at her.

"Don't tell me those were Union assholes," Baku said in a dangerously quiet tone when she reached them. They looked furious, and Serim knew she had to act fast before the evening turned into a bloodbath.

"Yes, but nothing happened—really," she said quickly and panicked, grabbing both their hands and pulling them behind her. They tried to protest, but she didn't stop. Just as they turned the corner, she dared a final glance back—meeting the intense eyes of her first love, who was staring at her with full attention. In front of him, the boy who had attacked her was now kneeling, and she saw Seong-Je holding his hand. The last thing she heard as they turned the corner was the painful scream of the poor boy.

[sp0o0kylights]

Knight Commander Stephan Harrington, Champion of Light, right hand to the newly crowned (and very young) Queen Elaine, was tied up on the floor. 

Unfortunately, so was Eddie.

Which wasn’t intentional--it certainly had not been the plan (not that kidnapping two royal knights had been the plan either)--but it was the outcome that had happened and so, Eddie had to deal. 

Now if only he could get the damn bespelled ropes from entangling him…

“You are incredibly bad at this.” The knight informed him in an amused tone. “Like, insanely bad. You should be ashamed levels of bad.” 

…which would be a lot easier if he wasn’t being heckled. 

“I am not!” Eddie defended, as he finally managed to free himself, throwing the offending, wiggling ropes across the room. Never again would he buy from the cheap spell stall in the market. 

“This is a clear and obvious ploy to get you to feel like I am in over my head and you--both of you!--are falling for it!” 

He leapt to his feet, spinning around and staring down at his captives with a look he hoped was threatening.

(It wasn’t.) 

“We've been kidnapped a handful of times, you know.” Knight First Class Robin Buckley spoke up from her position tied next to her commander. “People tend to put way more thought into it than this.” 

She’d adjusted her position sometime between her initial capture (a spell he'd purchased that Eddie had intended to hit the royal carriage and not the knights escorting it) to sit cross legged, hands bound behind her back.

“At least one thought, anyway. You gotta admit this feels pretty desperate.” Stephan piled on. He’d been more entertained than pissed ever since Eddie had taken himself down with his own tools, and the wisecracks were getting worse. 

“Thank you, Sir Stephan--”

“You can just call me Steve, man.” 

“—but some of us are on a tight deadline here. And for your information,” He brought himself to his full height, trying to loom over them menacingly, “nobody goes around kidnapping royalty unless they’re absolutely desperate.”

Not that he’d succeeded in the “royalty” department, but he’d gotten close enough. 

“Oh that reeks of a tragic backstory.” Robin said, like she was seated at a dinner party and not on the floor. “Did you get cursed?” 

“He looks like the type of guy to get cursed.” Steve agreed, head tilting like a faithful dogs as he examined his captor. 

Frustration overwhelmed him in a wave and Eddie went to angrily yank on his hair before catching himself in the act. As good as it would feel in the moment, it would not help him convince the idiots before him that this was serious, dammit! 

The result was that he flung his hands around wildly for a moment, before storming off across the room of the little abandoned cabin he’d found, face burning a brilliant, obvious red. 

“I didn’t get cursed, I got accused of--oh. Oh, no, I will not be caught monologuing, fuck you!”

He whirled on his heels, pointing a finger at their stupid faces. “Why I did it doesn’t even matter!” 

(Or rather, it did matter—a lot, actually—but not right now. Not to them.

Stupid fucking royal employees and their stupid fucking charmed lives.) 

He wasn’t shrieking, he wasn’t--except he was, and both knights traded a look behind his back as he paced wildly about. “I caught you, and I am going to use you to get what I want!” 

“Right, sure.” Steve said, nonplussed. “Say, did you maybe touch a weird looking, possibly magical item by chance? Or gave your name to a weirdly attractive looking lady who seems to love yapping about royal court band practices and who definitely wasn't one of the Fae?” 

He cast a sly look at his companion with that last line, and was rewarded when her mouth popped open in instant offense. 

“You swore you’d stop bringing that up!” Robin said, snapping a leg out in a kick, nailing her companion in the thigh with one thick boot. 

“I swore I’d stop bringing up the incident with Nancy.” Steve fired back, taking her kicks with ease. “And all those archery lessons you swore you needed, because you apparently hit your head in battle and forgot how a bow worked--”

“Shut up, Dingus!” Robin growled, in tandem with Eddie’s mounting panic. 

This was not, at all, going how this was supposed to. Not that anything had as it was supposed to, since shit went sideways, but the knights were at least could have the decency to be somewhat afraid of him! 

Or angry.

Eddie could work with angry!

This two bit comedy routine he was being subjected to instead of any rational reaction was just the icing on top of the weird cake of his life and he was this close to having a full blown mental breakdown about it. 

Which, of course, was exactly when they had to go and make things worse.

Robin stopped kicking her commander and turned back to Eddie, eyes narrowing with the sharpness of someone who had just put something big together. “Hey, hold on—aren’t you that bard half the kingdom won’t shut up about? Eddie the Balladeer?”

Because naturally, the first time anyone recognized him since his life went to hell, it had to be the people he’d just kidnapped.

(He should have listened to his uncle and become a woodworker.) 

“I was.” Eddie grumped. “More like fuckin’ Eddie the Banished now. But again,” He stressed the word with a harsh flick of both hands, “that doesn’t matter.” 

“Why not?” Steve pressed him. “Pretty sure Dustin is planning on you playing at his birthday party. He’s obsessed with that weird song you do. The one with the bed spring noises.” 

Eddie did not know who Dustin was, but after the chaos of the past two weeks, it was only a matter of time before word of his so-called crimes reached the capitol and shredded whatever remained of his reputation.

“Considering I’ve been accused of murder and my entire damn hometown thinks I’m leading satanic rituals, I seriously doubt that,” he sneered, aiming for something haughty and menacing—anything that would make them start taking this whole thing seriously. 

Steve and Robin exchanged another look, the kind only two people sharing a single brain cell could, the unspoken agreement loud and clear on their faces: ‘Do Not Laugh Right Now.

Which was, frankly, insulting, given the sheer level of trauma that came with being branded a murderer.

“Who accused you of satanic worship?” Steve managed to ask, clearly struggling to keep his words giggle free. “You look like one of those wobbly baby deer. You know, with the big, cute eyes.”

Eddie glowered at him. “Are you deaf? I just said it was the entire town!” 

(He determinedly ignored the fact that Steve had just compared him to a damn woodland creature—and called him cute, on top of it.)

“Is this one of those things wrong place wrong time things?” Robin tacked on, like this was a fun puzzle and not Eddie’s life spiraling wildly out of control. “Like, ‘there’s a dead body on the floor and I’m holding a knife but I swear I just walked in here right before the constable did’ type of situations?” 

“I bet the person he apparently murdered isn’t even dead.” Steve fake-whispered to Robin conspiratorially, eyes never leaving Eddie’s. They were crinkled at the edges in a smile, like this entire thing was getting better by the second. “Money says he helped a fair maiden get out of an awful marriage and the shitty fiancé accused him of killing her.” 

Which is exactly what happened, the fucking dick. 

Jaw swimming with his attempts to get out too many words at once, Eddie sputtered. “Of course she isn’t dea--I mean, I, no!” 

“Ha! Steve you totally nailed it.” Robin said, leaning back in triumph. “Which means Dongus here was trying to kidnap one of the Princes to get someone to listen to you. God that’s so cliche.” 

“It’s not like I asked for it to happen!” Eddie shrilled, tone hitting notes he hadn’t been aware his throat could make. 

“Man, I'm good.” Steve said, ignoring Eddie entirely. "I should've been a detective."

“Please, you’re much better at looking intimidating than actually being intimidating. Why do you think Hopper made you Champion, Mr. Model?” 

Eddie’s hands were in his hair again, and this time, he gave up all pretenses of looking cool and evil and let himself tear at it. 

“Why I’m doing this doesn’t matter because it’s not like you two can fucking help me!” 

That, at least, cut through the good cheer, succeeding in finally getting both knights to shut up. 

“I’m dead if I don’t fix this, but worse is if they go on and target Wayne, or Gareth or the rest of the band, or--” He wasn’t exactly hyperventilating, but he was breathing awfully fast. “I can’t let that fucknut Carver go on a whole rampage and hurt everyone who ever associated with me!” 

Wayne was fairly talented at talking the village down, but that had always been when Eddie had been accused of selling fake potions or replacing the town flag with Jason’s undergarments. 

He was not going to be able to fight off an angry mob, should they decide to make the trek to him. 

“Hey.” Steve said, his voice losing all the humor it had before. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay!”

“We can help make it okay.” Robin said gently and it become abruptly clear that his kidnapping victims were now trying to comfort him, because life just had to kick him while he was down. “We’re Knights of the Kingdom, after all.” 

“Oh and I suppose I’m just supposed to untie you and you’ll--what?” Eddie glared at them, hands pulling hard at his hair. “Just let the whole kidnapping thing go? Help me out of the goodness of your hearts instead of arresting me and throwing me in the stockades?” 

Steve shrugged. “I mean, yeah.” 

“I don’t believe you.” Eddie said flatly. 

“Does it help if we tell you this isn’t a contender for the top ten weirdest situations we’ve been in?” Robin asked. “Like, it’s not even close.” 

“No. No it does not.”

“Okay.” Steve said, in a ‘thinking aloud’ sort of voice. “How about this? We give you our words as knights that we’ll help clear your name, and you can stick with us so no one else tries anything until we do.” 

Like Eddie was dumb enough to fall for that bullshit. 

“And why would you do that? What's in it for you to help clear my name?” He challenged them. “We both know the second I untie either of you, you’re going to overwhelm me and take me in. I’m not taking that chance.”

Not with Wayne on the line. 

“Has anyone ever told you you have trust issues?” Steve asked, pushing Eddie right over the edge. 

“I was convicted!” He dropped his hands in a crazed movement, only to smack the back of one against the other's palm in time with his shrieking. “Of! Murder!” 

He must have hit another shrill note, because Steve and Robin both winced. 

“Easy.” Steve soothed. “You know who I am, right?”

Eddie snorted. Sir Stephan’s face was plastered across a shitload of banners all over the kingdom. You couldn’t go anywhere without knowing who the Queen’s Champion was, and Robin was nearly just as famous.

“Yes.” He grit out. 

“Then you know that while I myself don’t have any kind of magic or power, I am tied directly into the Kingdom’s power.” 

In an impressive display of athleticism, Steve maneuvered himself up into a proper kneel, hands still tied behind his back with softly glowing ropes. 

He looked up at Eddie through thick lashes, expression earnest. “If you want, I will tap into it to make you an unbreakable oath. That way I can’t betray you.” 

Stunned into stillness, Eddie stared at him, before his eyes swept to his companion, trying to check if this was some kind of trick or trap or--something else he was too stupid to catch.

Instead of an answer, Robin looked just as shocked as Eddie, her jaw dropping.

“Dingus, you can’t be serious,” She protested, while Eddie finally found his voice to choke out;

“Why would you do that?”

“Because we’re the good guys,” Steve replied, with a smile so bright it could probably power the sun. “and the good guys help people.” 

That was said a little oddly--like he was quoting someone who’d said it many, many times before. 

Eddie opened his mouth, struggling to form the words. 

“How,” he started, his voice cracking on the word. He paused, biting his lip before finally gathering the strength to ask, “How do you know I’m not just lying to you?”

“You?” Steve echoed, the word practically a challenge, but he was still looking up at Eddie through those damn eyelashes, his expression calm, like they'd known each other for a hundred years and would know each other for a hundred more. “No way.” 

They stared at each other for a long, drawn out moment. Eddie didn’t know what Robin was doing, didn’t have room in his brain to even recall her presence in the room. It felt like he and Steve were connected, his entire life was teetering and this moment would decide the outcome. 

Steve had been right. Eddie did have trust issues. Big ones, and this entire situation had only made them worse, but somehow, in that moment, he felt like he could do the impossible.

He could trust Steve.

“Okay.” He said quietly, all his bluster and wild hand movements gone. 

Steve beamed at him.

“Kneel down in front of me.” The knight instructed, and as if drawn by an invisible thread, Eddie did so, dropping down so his face was level with Steve’s. 

“Come closer.” Steve ordered, and waited as Eddie shuffled, closer and closer, until they were barely a breaths width apart, so close he could see the streaks of gold in Steve’s warm, brown eyes. 

“I,” Steve started, in a voice that was both powerful and intimate, “Sir Stephan, Knight Commander of the Kingdom of Light, Queen’s Champion and head of House Harrington, call upon the bonds that make me and that I have made in turn, to hereby swear to you,”

He paused, waiting, and it took Eddie a moment to realize he had never given the man his name.

“Edward Munson, of Town Hawkins.” He muttered, bespelled entirely by the warmth in Steve's eyes. 

“Edward Munson, Bard of Town Hawkins,” Steve said, and oh, what the addition of the word ‘bard.’ did to Eddie’s stomach. The flips it made when he realized just how well Steve was continuing to read him, better than anyone else in his life ever had.

(It made him feel insane.)

“that I will aid in clearing your name, restoring your reputation, and ensuring your safe return to the life you were meant to live.” 

Something built up between them, humming with the buzz of magic. The weight felt tangible, the threads growing thick tying Eddie and Steve together.

“By the powers that be.” Steve whispered, leaning ever so slightly forward, eyelashes lowering. 

Eddie repeated the last line back to Steve, guided by the nudging insistence of the magic that circled them. 

For a second the oath become visible, strings of bright yellow magic surging about, and Eddie was almost drawn to look at it, had he not been distracted by Steve closing the distance between them.

“Wha--” Eddie started to ask, only for Steve to draw the word into his own mouth, sealing their oath with a kiss. 

In the songs Eddie sung, the world exploded when one experienced true love's kiss. Birds sang, and people cheered, fireworks rose to explode in the air. 

This kiss was nothing like that.

This kiss felt like coming home. 

Steve ended it as chastly as he started it, pulling back to smile at him. “And there you have it. One sworn Knight Commander, duty bound to clear your good name.” 

“Uh huh.” Eddie said, blinking rapidly, trying to come back into himself, trying not to look as dazed as he felt. “Right. My uh, name.” 

Steve beamed at him. Tentatively, Eddie smiled back, and if a moment could be warm then this one was the warmest thing Eddie had ever experienced, like a gentle blanket being draped across them both.

It was ruined entirely by the forced coughing that started up next to them. 

“If you two are done now, my arms are going numb.” Robin announced, making Eddie jerk back and Steve roll his eyes. 

“Sorry.” Eddie said automatically, face going red for the third time that day. “I’ll uh. I’ll do that now.”

In his mad scramble to get to his feet and hide how aroused he was, Eddie missed the smug look Steve gave Robin.

In his attempts at removing the spelled ropes from her wrists, he equally missed the sarcastically mouthed ‘Slut.’ Robin aimed back at him. 

He did, however, somehow understand that Robin came with Steve, and that he had just damned himself to their bantering.

Weirdly, it made him feel better instead of worse.

xXx

 “So out of curiosity, what name did you give yourself?” Steve asked a handful of hours later, as the three of them began their trek to Castle Hoosier.

Eddie frowned at him. “Name?”

“You know.” Steve nudged his shoulder against Eddie’s playfully, like they were buddies. “Your evil wizard name, or whatever.”

“I never said I was a wizard, Steve.” 

“You cannot tell me someone as dramatic as yourself didn’t immediately decide to change your name to something ridiculous.” The knight challenged, and Eddie hated how easily the guy had clocked him. “I bet it has evil in the title. Or Mean. Or--” 

“It was Dread Lord Munson.”  Robin interrupted. 

With a grin so wide it overtook her entire face, she turned a little leatherbound notebook to face Steve. There, in Eddie’s spidery scrawl, was the offending name taking up half the page. 

“Where did you get that!?” Eddie squawked, lunging for the book. Robin, in a show of skill he wouldn’t have thought her capable of, tossed it right over his head, into the waiting hands of Steve. 

Eddie spun, cursing wildly as Steve took a look at his personal (!) writings. 

(He hadn't even seen her grab it, dammit!)

He ducked out of the way once, then twice, laughing the entire time, before closing the book with a snap and holding it out to Eddie. 

“Come on, Dork Lord, let’s go get your name cleared.” He said, a fond grin on his face. 

“I hate you. Both of you.” Eddie whined, a blush dusting his cheeks as he snatched his book back, but followed Steve anyway. 

He had the worst feeling he was going to be doing that for a while, now. Even if his name got cleared.

Fucking knights.

Bonus:

“We both know that binding ritual does not involve a kiss, Steve.” Robin said, some time later, quiet enough for only her friend to hear. 

“Ah, shut up Robs. Let me have my fun.” Steve said. “Besides, it sets the tone. Now that he knows what kissing me is like, it's all he’s gonna be thinking about.” 

“Pretty sure all he’s thinking about is clearing his name, Dingus.”

“Okay, yeah.” Steve stressed the word, “but after we clear it? That little scatterbrained bard is gonna be fully focused on me.” He flicked a finger at his own chest, and gave what he thought was his best winning smile. 

Robin made gagging noises.

In retaliation. Steve tried to push her off her horse. 

[wroniec]

Melkor teaching the Noldor in Valinor

Now in his heart Melkor most hated the Eldar(...). Therefore all the more did he feign love for them, and sought their friendship, and offered them the service of his lore and labour in any great deed that they would do. And many of the Noldor, because of their desire of all knowledge, hearkened to him and took delight in his teaching.

Morgoth's Ring

[sillybillylulu]

I've recently had a dream about them kissing so this was absolutely necessary!!! 🌊⚡💜

Also please don't judge if the anatomy for azula isn't correct I cannot draw perspective 😭

[myoonmii]

Help me! cherik brainrot is here

[juliettejwnewinesa]

i need suho smut ff👅👅BTW LOVE UR WRITING!!

“Suho owns like 90% of my smut brain atp 💀 I need help.”

Evidence Room

Pairing: Ahn Suho x Fem!Reader (Y/N) AU: Police Academy / Criminal AU Genre: Smut, Power Play, Semi-public sex, Rough sex, Dom!Suho, Restraints, Corruption kink POV: Third person Word Count: ~3,000

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

It started with a whisper in the hallway.

“You’re not supposed to be here, Y/N.”

His voice—low, rough, tired from the fight earlier—sounded so much more dangerous in the dark.

She turned slowly. He was leaning against the wall outside the restricted evidence room, shirt unbuttoned to the middle of his chest, blood still crusted on his knuckles.

“You came straight from interrogation?” she asked, stepping closer.

Suho didn’t move. Just stared her down like he wanted to do something illegal.

“I asked you a question,” she said again.

Wrong move.

He pushed off the wall and had her against the door before she could blink, one arm caging her in, the other gripping her chin.

“I almost snapped a guy’s neck twenty minutes ago,” he muttered. “You think now’s the time to tease me?”

“I wasn’t—”

“You wore that little skirt on purpose.”

He was right. She had. And now she was soaked.

He kissed her like he was punishing her for it. Hard, messy, furious. Teeth clashing. Tongues tangling.

Then he dragged her into the evidence room and slammed the door shut behind them.

“Put your hands on the table,” he ordered, breath hot against her neck. “Now.”

She obeyed. The table was cold steel. His hands were already yanking her skirt up, dragging her panties down, exposing her dripping cunt.

“Suho—someone might come in—”

“Let them.”

He bent her over and spread her legs wider with his foot. Then—click.

Cold metal circled her wrists. Handcuffs. Evidence room issue.

Her breath caught.

“Oh my god—”

“You’re not getting out of those till I say so,” he growled.

She didn’t even get to protest. He shoved his cock inside her in one deep, brutal thrust. She gasped—he was so deep, so thick, so fucking hard.

“Fuck,” he hissed, slamming into her again. “You’re so wet for me. You love this, don’t you? Being bent over a table in a locked room like some criminal.”

The cuffs rattled as she writhed under him, legs trembling, moaning openly now. He slapped her ass, then gripped her hair and yanked her head back.

“Louder,” he barked. “I want the whole floor to know I’m the only one who gets to fuck you like this.”

“Suho—please—please don’t stop—”

“Oh, I’m not stopping.”

He fucked her harder, brutal and relentless, the sound of skin slapping echoing off the metal walls.

When she came, she screamed.

But he didn’t stop.

He grabbed her by the throat and fucked her through it, cock dragging through her overstimulated cunt, then pulled out and flipped her over while she was still cuffed.

Now flat on her back, legs spread, wrists above her head, completely helpless.

“You want me to fill you up?” he asked, jerking himself over her slick folds.

“Y-yes—”

“Beg for it.”

“Suho—please—please cum inside me—I need it—I need you—”

That did it.

He groaned loud and messy as he spilled inside her, hips stuttering, cum dripping down between her thighs.

But he didn’t uncuff her.

He just leaned down, kissed her forehead, and whispered:

“You’re not leaving this room, sweetheart. Not until you’re begging me to stop.”

[handweavers]

working class nonblack people when faced with the plain truth that We have more in common with working class black people anywhere in the world than we will EVER have with the bourgeoisie of our own ethnic groups in our own countries have 2 options: to choose to stand in solidarity with our black comrades and combine our numbers so that we may work together for the liberation of all working peoples, or attempt to "raise" ourselves by stepping on our black comrades and ultimately fail in enacting real change for ourselves let alone anyone else. your anger toward black people is misdirected, dangerous and reactionary, and too many of you fall for these attempts to distract you from who the real enemy is, and that enemy is not working class black people in any country. fucking get it together

[freyadragonlord]

Han Yoojin: the best way to tame beasts - and people! ;) - is through food!

Sung Hyunjae, serving him eggs: that's really clever, Han Yoojin-gun

Han Yoojin: I can surely bond with Chief Taewon if we have a few meals together

Sung Hyunjae, serving him dessert: how brilliant ^^

Han Yoojin: wow this is really good, maybe you're not completely terrible

Sung Hyunjae: ^^

[justmeexistinghere]

W H E R E S H A D O W S M E E T

pt.1 Trigger ˏ*⁀➷Masterlist

Summary:

You planned to leave your past behind and focus on keeping a low profile at Eunjang High. But when a violent encounter after school forces you out of the shadows, old instincts flare up and new connections begin to form. Sometimes, the fight you try to avoid is the one that changes everything.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･*✧･ﾟ:*⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

-> Geum Seongje x fem!reader (about to be) -> Warnings: violence / physical fights, bullying, blood / injury, swearing / strong language, mentions of past trauma, smoking (hopefully I didn't forget anything) -> Wordcount: 2.503 -> 📝English isn’t my first language & this is my first story — thank you for your patience ♡

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧:*⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Just like the past few days, the usually blue sky is hidden behind a wall of grey clouds. Even the sun surrenders, casting a heavy, oppressive mood over the city. Summoning any motivation for the lessons ahead feels impossible – not that you ever had much to begin with. 

Listlessly, you stare out the window, your gaze empty and unfocused. Occasionally, your eyes flick over to the clock above the door, moving so slowly it feels personal. You rest your head on your arms, knowing the teacher wouldn't say a word, since all of them have learned to keep their heads down, just like most of the students. You close your eyes, letting the hum of the classroom fade into the background as your thoughts drift away.

The bell finally snaps you out of it. Time for a break. Not that it matters... 

You are still new here, still alone – and, honestly, you prefer it that way. Choosing between bullies and their victims isn’t a choice you are interested in. Sure, a few students don’t fit into either category, but why take the risk? You know how quickly the wrong decision can blow up in your face.  

You hate this place. But it was your own fault. The thought had settled in your mind a long time ago. No sense denying it.

This place, Eunjang High, is infamous for brutal fights, relentless bullying, and a toxic atmosphere. Sounds fun, right? If one enjoys survival games, it would definitely get a five-star rating. 

You feel like an intruder in a system you had no desire to belong to. And honestly? You certainly don’t want to change anything about it, even if you are sure that you could. Maybe once, the old you would’ve thought about changing things. But not now. You have bigger promises to keep. Promises that tasted bitter the second you made them. Graduation isn’t far off. And you're counting the days – not to celebrate, but to leave this hellhole behind without a second glance.

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

After what felt like an eternity, school's over. Another level of this horror game is done.  You don’t know why, but instead of taking your usual route – the one where you're least likely to run into anyone – you take the shortcut through the notorious tunnel where fights happen almost every day. For a second, the familiar smell of blood and sweat, probably from the most recent fight, finds its way to your nose. You tense for a second, listening.   Nothing...   Just your echoing steps. “Lucky me,” you whisper to yourself after realizing that you could have walked straight into someone's fist or something. You start playing some of your favourite songs over your earphones, which give you a decent soundtrack to your after-school walk, offering a small escape from your sickening surroundings.

You are almost home until you remember that your dad asked you to get some groceries on your way back. You enter the 7-Eleven, which is nearby, and gather everything you need. While browsing through the shelves, you see someone slurping their ramen, and its smell makes your belly long for it with a quiet noise, you hope only you caught. You stop your music – shit, reality hits again – and wait quietly until the cashier breaks the silence with the annoyed-sounding words, “That's all?” You nod. “That's 13,000₩ please,” he says while you are already looking for your card. You feel how he eyes you impatiently as he cannot wait to return to the game he was playing on his phone right before you interrupted him. The people in this area really do not care about their jobs, but honestly, you kinda understand them.

A loud crash at the window facade makes your hand jolt, almost dropping your card. Fuck, what was that? Your heart skips. And you feel your muscles tensing up, ready to defend yourself, as if your body never forgot how it's done. You turn around with a swift move and quickly capture the ongoing situation.  

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

Outside the store, a group of teenagers – looking like wannabe gangsters from the Unit – have ganged up on some other students, one of whom was slammed into the window and was the source of the crashing sound. His dark hair is still being gripped by a taller guy who laughs shamelessly, looking not only at his "friends" but also at a dark alley, where a lanky figure with a lit cigarette is barely noticeable.  

It is time to act fast – fuck – no trouble, you remind yourself over and over again, while leaving the store and trying to get past the troublemakers. “Hey, you!” shouts one of the guys, but you ignore it, trying to look unbothered by the scene. “Is this bitch really ignoring me?” he says while taking fast steps in your direction until he is close enough to grab your wrist. His grip is strong, and the sudden pain makes your eyes water. You try to shake him off, which only leads to him gripping even harder – you didn’t think that would be possible, but damn, it was. “Let go,” you say, trying to be as direct and emotionless as possible. “Why would you tell me what to do?” he responds, laughing, and turns to his gang, which still hasn't let the other guys they harassed before leave. Only then do you realize how bad the condition of the boy is that was hit against the window. He is bleeding from his head heavily, and you aren't sure if he is still conscious. You hear his heavy breathing, and it feels like déjà vu. Your heart starts to ache and a small shiny tear rolls down your cheek. The guy on your wrist notices that your eyes were glued on the badly injured and bursts out: “Feel pity for this motherfucker? Do you know this loser?” You look at the attacker with a disgusted face, not being able to hide your thoughts for a second. No trouble, you promised. But some promises are easier to break than others. Fuck it.

You then look him right in the eyes, putting on a small grin, and let out a short snort of laughter, trying to irritate him. “Pity? Yeah, maybe. I mean, who wouldn't be pitiful looking, after having a fight with someone, one cannot stand a chance with, huh? But you are the one I pity even more, you know?” you answer him cockily. His eyes pop open, since he hadn’t expected that as your answer. "You pity me?" his eyes get darker, and his voice lower. The other gang members start laughing, but you know exactly how to shut them up. “You too!” You raise your voice, making sure they hear you clearly, which succeeds. All eyes are on you now. God, you have a love-hate relationship with this exact feeling. But you must end what you have started.

“The ones that pick weaker and defenseless victims to bully are the most pitiful,” you continue. You feel relief at your wrist, realizing the guy transfers his weight to his rear leg, along with the arm that was on you just now. You catch that familiar glint in his eyes, you had seen countless times in the midst of a brawl. With a swift motion you avoid the rising hand that was now aiming at your cheek. He stumbles to the front, not expecting to miss. "Shibal," he screams directly at you, feeling the anger he has more intensely. It isn’t the first time you have to dodge a slap, knowing there is no going back anymore. Like in old times, you study the situation – every movement, every little detail about your surroundings. You need to know what your opponent is about to do. How you can use the things around you to obtain an advantage. You feel your old self banging at the wall you set up inside yourself a while ago, and you cannot help but let it break through.   Even if you fought a lot in your past, you are a bit rusty due to your lack of exercise. But hey, no risk no fun, right?

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

It's six of them. Too many. But starting with the one that seems to be their leader might scare them a bit, since they clearly underestimate you. That will buy some time to leave with the boys on the floor. You look at their exhausted and scared, pale faces once again, catching their collective shivering, which is almost imperceptible and speaks volumes of their terror. Long story short... You seize the moment of surprise, your foot lashing out in a swift, precise kick aimed at the balls of the bully who held you seconds ago. A strangled gasp escapes him as he sinks to his knees, not expecting your next move, already approaching. Before he can react, your fist shoots out, connecting with a sickening thud against his left eye. The others, just as you'd anticipated, are frozen, their shock palpable as they witness their leader's swift defeat. "Run!" you bark at the boys, who are as surprised as the bullies, but listen to your sharp and commanding voice. Except for one... The badly injured boy, stubbornly unconscious, has a crimson stain blooming on the pavement beneath his head.

You find yourself between the decision of helping him and risking a bloody fight or leaving without him. "No trouble your ass," you mutter under your breath, your muscles coiling in preparation for the inevitable fight. In the meantime, the leader groans, pushing himself up with agonizing slowness, clutching his injured groin. "Take that bitch down!" he roars, his voice thick with pain and fury.

Round 1!

A thick-necked guy with closely cropped hair charges forward, swinging a clumsy punch that telegraphs his intentions a mile away. Instead of meeting his brute force, you sidestep, narrowly avoiding his fist, and your hand instinctively grabs the heavy terracotta flowerpot sitting precariously on the ledge of a house's window next to the 7-Eleven. As he stumbles past his missed strike, you swing the pot, not to smash it, but to fling a handful of loose soil and grit directly into his face. He roars in surprise and claps his hands to his eyes, momentarily blinded.

Another one of his cronies, leaner and faster, sees his chance and lunges. But your attention is already elsewhere. You quickly reach for the plastic name tag pinned to your school uniform. With a sharp tug, you rip it free. As he comes at you, you grip the rigid plastic tightly between your fingers, using the pointed corner – ironically bearing your own name – to deliver a quick, stinging jab to the side of his neck, targeting a pressure point, leaving a message. He gasps, momentarily stunned by the unexpected sharp pain and the sheer audacity of the attack, giving you the opening to maneuver.  

Shortly after, some passersby step in, saying the police is nearby, which leads to the attackers finally leaving.

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

The cloying scent of blood and sweat, the unwelcome aroma of the day, assaults your nostrils once again. You kneel beside the injured boy, the sticky warmth of his blood radiating faintly. His eyelids flutter open, revealing unfocused, pain-filled eyes. "Hey, you alright?" you ask gently, your voice shows a stark contrast to the earlier command, as you fumble for your phone to call an ambulance. The boy seems to have lost his voice due to the pain and shock he just experienced. You can feel the adrenaline slowly fading, and even if you are not as weak as you pretended for a long time, your knees are just like jelly in that moment.

What you just did surprises you. You just have to think about Him. He would be proud, but also disappointed. He, the one who taught you to fight. He, the reason you never wanted to fight again.

But if you were brutally honest, you liked it. You liked the feeling of being in a fight, blood boiling, and always thinking about a divine move that made them lose against you, even if no one would ever bet on you. You find yourself being proud of something you wanted to ban from your life and even promised it to your dad and Him.

"Not bad," you suddenly hear from the direction of the dark alley, where you noticed the smoking figure before. A tall, slim guy, wearing an orange windbreaker and glasses, comes in your direction. You have to admit he looks quite handsome, walking casually with one hand in his pocket while the other has a cigarette between two fingers. You look at him a bit confused, but curious about what exactly he wants. "What do you mean?" "Your fighting. Not bad for a girl." The way you hate these words – for a girl – why is it always this statement? Unfazed, you turn around to finally go home. Gladly, the groceries are still all in the bag and mostly fine, after you threw them away before the fight. While walking, you perceive another pair of footsteps right behind you, before you can hear the person that follows you saying: "No really, I didn’t expect someone like you to be that tough. You turned them into cowards, which gives me a reason to beat them even more later. Thanks, sweetheart." Now you are even more confused about this guy than before. "You saw all that?" You keep your cool until you realize what it means... "So you were there the whole time and just watched? You know them? Are you behind the attack against the other students?" You stop walking and look at him furiously. He just smiles with that damn smile and look in his eyes. A look without any regret, rather just amusement. "Maybe, but sweetheart, it seems like you can handle yourself. No need to step in," he says, super relaxed. "You fucking–" you start but stop in anger, just continuing walking towards home. The guy laughs and just looks at you from behind.

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

In bed, you cannot stop thinking about what happened. The usual morning at school ended in a sidequest, which seems to be just the beginning of something that may change your life for the time being. In your head, you replay the whole fight you went through and study all the movements you remember. How could you improve your attacks for your next fight... A next fight... three words you never thought would be formed like that in your head again... but they did and you do not regret... not at all... just that you didn’t hit that damn gummy smile of the windbreaker guy...

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

to be continued...

ˏ*⁀➷pt.2

Thank you so much for reading so far! I wanted to create atmosphere and some depth, why its quite a long start without the pairing actually know each other 😅 It's my first work ever so i hope you like it (please leave some feeback hehe). Would you like part 2?

picture was generated with Ai

[anceh-atsiome]

New angel enemies in Fraud truthers rise up

[honey-bird10]

Been reading the novel of tscir and I'm starting to think yoojin could call hyunjae a "motherfucker" and he'd just reply "yes mommy"