#[ i wanted to try those fancy schmancy sets

[sillywizardman]

HI!!! After finishing Disco Elysium I wanted to read Sacred and Terrible Air, but there were two issues:

1. It’s not officially released in English

2. I don’t like staring at pdfs!

So I did what any sane person would do. That is take three days of my life printing and binding it.

TRANSLATION (“thank you Group Ibex” we all say in unison!):

PROCESS PICS:

I apologize in advance for anyone who has experience in this sort of thing this is so botched.

I have NEVER done anything like this before, I don’t even read books on my own volition, but if the Disco fixation wants me to learn how to sew and bookbind I’ll do that.

Four of the signatures above. There were nine total, eight of them with 8 sheets/32 pages and the last was five sheets I think. Threw the pdf into adobe acrobat and went straight to printing with those settings and the “booklet” option enabled.

Pricked holes through each signature! Used thumbtacks and a piece of foam I scavenged from my room, worked out great. It’s probably also worth mentioning I do not have a bone folder, book press, or any of the other fancy schmancy bookbinding tools. Flattened the pages with a pencil and pressed with D&D books…

SEWING TIME. I have never sewn in my life. My success in this regard can be majorly attributed to Sea Lemon on youtube, particularly this tutorial:

The process from printing to finishing sewing the signatures took ~8 hours. Now we hit our first roadblock, I had no glue for the spine! After going to sleep and waiting what felt like ages (literally 10 hours or so) before I was free to visit a craft store, I tried to find PVA glue because that’s what you’re supposed to use I think?? Yeah. They were out of PVA glue and my impatient ass got mod podge.

‘Tis glued! As you can see I added cardstock to the ends. Joyous day.

Also, you see that sketchbook in the pic? Yeah? You see that lovely cardboard?

It is now the cover. Rest in piss bristol sketchpad backing.

———

EDIT: I see a bunch of people want to attempt this so here’s a video on how to make the hardcover: https://youtu.be/Av_rU-yOPd4?si=7T5zgVJGAfPFBxn-

I didn’t use any measurements or advice from it but it’s a good reference for when it comes to assembling the cover from ~3:50 onwards. The boards are same size as your text block pages and spine, I think I made the cover width a bit longer just in case it doesn’t cover the text block though. Do not do this with the spine, I regret it.

And note, this is NOT a tutorial, it is the process of someone who got a bit too silly and decided to bind a book, obviously do your own research lol. Don’t be afraid to try it though, it’s surprisingly simple!

———

… So, now that’s done! I swore to myself I wouldn’t start reading SATA/PJÕL until I finished this project completely, meaning I’ll be doing that now yippee :]

[once-in-a-blood-moon]

If The Obey Me Boys Played Skyrim

I've recently gotten back into Skyrim and was thinking about how the Obey Me characters would play it, so here we are! I hope there are other Obey Me/Skyrim nerds out there... Well either way, enjoy! :)

Lucifer 

Plays as a Nord, picks the warrior stone at the beginning and sticks to it.

Doesn't want to play but is forced to by Leviathan and Diavolo.

Actually pretty good and efficient, and will only complete the main quest line.

Has to have the best armor and weapons, so he either stumbles across somehow lucky that way or buys Ebony armor.

The only one to actually use a shield.

Doesn’t have a follower, he says he doesn’t need the extra help, but does welcome the stray dog as a companion. 

And if one more dragon imposes on his time when he’s trying to get stuff done, so help him...

Mammon

Plays as an Argonian, picks the thief stone and follows the Weaponmaster route, using dual one-handed weapons and has a bow as backup.

Naturally gravitates towards the Thieves Guild quests, makes a lotta money ;)

Probably has mismatched armor on. Likes Elven gear, it looks all fancy schmancy to him. Starts out with two scimitars. 

Actually really likes playing, but hates that he gets spooked so easily in barrows, those draugr are some sneaky bastards! 

He has Lydia as a follower she was free and a dog that he bought. 

He has stolen a horse or two. 

Makes it his mission to own all of the houses in Skyrim. 

Leviathan 

Plays as a Wood Elf, picks the thief stone as well, but not for the same reasons as Mammon. He just wants to be stealthy, and this stone will help get him there. 

Follows the Archer route, he’s surprisingly really good at long distance combat

Completes all of the main quests, favors the Dark Brotherhood quests though.

Picks lightweight armor to go along with his stealthiness, uses Dragonscale armor, primarily uses Auriel’s Bow, until he gets a Daedric bow.

Has Serana as a follower, thinks she’s so OP! 

He loves finding the shipwrecks and going through them. 

Satan 

There’s cat people?! 

Obviously plays as a Khajiit and picks the mage stone. Probably follows the Rogue route, mostly using spells and bows. Like Levi, really good at long distance combat.

Finds the main quest and the College of Winterhold quests the most fascinating. 

Either uses Glass or Elven armor and weapons, not really picky either way.

Surprisingly really likes Skyrim, it’s like something he’d read from a fantasy novel.

Picks up any books he finds, the sheer amount weighs him down the most. 

Actually reads them.

All the shelves of the houses he owns are full of books. 

The first time he goes to Solstheim, he rages. It’s outrageously hard and he is very underprepared.

Asmodeus

Plays as a High Elf and picks the mage stone, though it really doesn’t matter. 

Does not fight, but likes exploring.

None of the quests get done, unless they are small side quests and he doesn’t actually have to fight. 

Picks any flowers and other ingredients he finds.

Loves the medieval aesthetic though. 

If he does get a house, he will adopt the children that live on the streets, almost riots when he can’t adopt all of them.

Also wears the Amulet of Mara everywhere he goes only to be flirted with by the NPCs.

Beelzebub

Plays as an Orc, picks the warrior stone. He doesn’t really follow any set route, just kinda does what he feels like. 

Beel’s just here for a good time. 

Really likes the Companions quests, loves the familial vibe of it :’)

If he can, he will adopt the little girl in Whiterun, he feels so sorry for her. 

Will also adopt the stray dog if it comes around, but has no followers otherwise.

He's is really good at hunting and fishing in the game.

Thinks the food looks so good, def orders a Skyrim cookbook so that someone will make him some of the food from the game. 

Belphegor

Plays as a Dark Elf and picks the mage stone. He plays as a Battlemage and uses an Orcish dagger with an immobilization enchantment.

He’s really good at enchanting, and enchants everything himself.

Sticks with the Nightingale armor, it looks cool and edgy. It has good perks too.  

Not really picky with the quests, he just does them.

He does like the Dark Brotherhood quests though. Absolutely loves Shadowmere.

Likes to have a companion who's good at close combat, not really picky there either, probably picks Uthgerd from the inn in Whiterun. 

Lives to mock and make fun of the guards.

Diavolo

Plays as an Orc and picks the warrior stone. Switches between the Warrior and Berserker routes. 

Favors two-handed weapons, and thinks the Orcish armor is cool. Hopeless with bows though :/

He’s excited to play!

It will take him a second to adjust to the game's controls, but once he gets the hang of it, there’s no stopping him. 

Has a follower, a husky, and an armored troll through the Dawnguard quests. 

It’s definitely his favorite quest line too. 

He often gets sidetracked with quests, most of them go unfinished. 

There’s just so much to see and do.

Barbatos

Plays as a High Elf, and picks the mage stone. Goes between the Mage and Archer routes. 

Not picky about the armor he wears, but gets really lucky in his exploration. Like enchanted Glass armor and weapons.

Only playing at Diavolo’s request. 

Like Lucifer, he’s highly efficient, does not mess around. 

Absolutely brutal, “fuck around and find out” kind of guy. 

No followers for Barb, likes to do things alone. He only does the main quest line. 

He did do a few Daedric quests and really liked those.  

Simeon 

Plays as a Khajiit, mostly cause he’s never heard of such a thing and finds it charming. Picks the mage stone. It really DOES NOT matter for Simeon.

Struggling™

Barely makes it out of Helgen, how do you expect him to play the rest of the game? 

Beyond doing actual quests, he really likes the scenery, and likes to just wander. 

Wandering does sometimes lead to problematic situations, and Simeon cannot for the life of him remember what button to use to bring out his weapon. 

Death is pretty inevitable, but from exploring, he has thought of some cool story concepts, so it’s not a complete loss. 

Simeon always buys the flowers from the orphan girl in Windhelm, when he figures out how to get there. 

Luke 

Plays as an Imperial, they seem strong! Naturally picks the warrior stone, and tries to stick with that route. 

Uses Leather armor and has a simple steel sword.

Easily spooked as he plays the game. No one told him about giant spiders and the dead coming back to life! 

No he’s not scared, he’s just concerned, who thought of all these horrible creatures? 

Scared.

Simeon has to supervise, so that Luke doesn’t get too nervous. 

Mostly does small side quests to get a taste of the game.

He also promised Beel that he would try to recreate the sweet rolls. 

Solomon

Plays as a Breton, picks the mage stone. Goes between the Spellsword and Necromancer route. 

Just uses any armor and weapons he comes across, but fancies the Glass weapons. Also wears the mage robes quite often.

Favors the Daedric and College quests. He likes the staffs he gets from the Daedric quests.

Loves to just wander and explore, really good at potion making and enchanting. 

Has Cicero as his follower, vibes with his energy. Both are chaotic menaces.

Makes it his goal to collect every shout in the game. 

Is probably a vampire. 

Bonus

Belphie, Levi, and Solomon all compete to see who has the most bunnies slaughtered. 

When Mammon is going through a dungeon, one of the brothers will sneak up on him and scare him as something pops up on the screen. All of them have done this at least once. 

Luke often goes to Levi to ask for tips and advice, which often ends up with them gaming together. Luke doesn’t feel as nervous playing if Levi is with him. 

When either Lucifer and Barbatos play, Diavolo sits with them and watches. He’s kind of a helicopter viewer, pointing out that they should’ve done that a different way, or they missed something in the last room, which is usually worthless. He just wants to help. 

Levi, Lucifer, and Barbatos are the only ones to successfully kill a giant.

Solomon, Belphie, Satan, Lucifer, and Barbatos are all vampires, either accidentally or on purpose.

Mammon, Levi, Beel, and Diavolo are werewolves. 

[celebritypiner]

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[eclipsenoir]

@seramiamor

“Everyday feels like I’m running out of time until you’re gone with someone else to be miserable with, so excuse me as I act completely crazy and obsessive.”

“You say you feel like you're running out of time until I'm gone, but you're wrong about that because I'd never leave you. — (...) I'm sorry. I’m happy that you love me. I do love you, too.”

a self portrait in letters by anne sexton / house of hummingbird (2018) / june 20th’s good night / my first first love / “p.s. i still love you” jenny han / us and them (2018) / ??? / Lucy R. Lippard — I SEE / YOU MEAN / night in paradise (2020) / ???​

[stupidbeecandle]

Can you tell us more lighthouse strories? :)

Hmm. I made a few other lighthouse stories but I think a lot of them are harder to track down these days? I should probably just make a pinned post.

Stories: The lighthouse and the watch house were right next door to each other the same way you might put a shed out back if your shed was a three-story glowing tower that screamed at a decibel level akin to violence at predictable intervals. There was a white painted line, or maybe it was yellow? On the rocks in a circumference, you were never to cross because beyond that line the noise could permanently deafen you.

The house we stayed in had a rich history of tear-downs and rebuilds. The Atlantic ocean is not fond of houses and does its very best to destroy them with ice, tides, and occasionally very large rocks. It was two stories, downstairs there was a kitchen, a living room, and a gear-storage room where we had a bunch of fancy-schmancy equipment set up and either running, or ready to take out and run. Upstairs were the sleeping quarters but it was weird. At one point the house had belonged to a family with normal bedrooms, then some new owners came in and boarded up the upstairs into two gendered halves so that boys and girls couldn't touch each other in ungodly ways. Then some door-holes were cut in those shodily put up barriers so the upstairs kind of had a spirit-halloween popup store vibe with the construction.

No heat, no electricity or running water. Water was usually packed in on ships and the bathroom was converted to a compost system that was actually fairly well done. Fire stove and gas appliances that we shipped gas in with kept the downstairs super cozy so often we just slept there instead even though it was cramped and sometimes we wanted to kill each other. One of my teammates had the nastiest unwashed white girl dreads Id ever seen because she didn't take advantage of any of the camp hair-hygene options available and kept trying to convince us to dredge our hair with seawater and tie it in knots. Blessedly I had lost my sense of stank by a few days into expedition mode.

Once I lost my hat in the wind and it blew into the circle zone of bodily harm near the lighthouse and I timed my sprint so I could run in, get my hat and get out before it could go off again in what was a spectacularly stupid move, exactly the half brained shit you would expect from an 18 year old with no thoughts in her head.

The moose washed up but so did a leatherback turtle which took a lot longer than the moose to clean and prep. We never killed animals but we often recorded the contents of dead ones and used/sold/donated bones and things to museams, researchers and various societies. We all hated the turtle, while the moose brought us together in a task of madness and hubris, no one wanted to touch the turtle and it was the most cursed task on the island for some time.

Various sea birds (assholes) were the main species living on the island. You had to walk with one hand raised above your head in a fist at nearly all times when they were nesting because the assholes were stupid and would attack the highest part of your body thinking it was your head. You would wear a glove or use an umbrella if you knew you would have to be out there for more than a few minutes.

All of the food was vegan and I hated it. We had a joke that if you threw the vegan scrambled eggs on the ground they would bounce higher than the hight you threw them from. They didn't bounce that high but they did bounce suspiciously high.

The other lighthouse I stayed at had a fancy helipad we could all sit out on made of wood. On off days we would sun ourselves. For some reason despite only a 3 hour difference between the islands great duck island was green and sometimes nice while great rock island was grey and bitterly cold.

Thgis lighthouse had electricity but still no plumbing. It was a much larger research station with at least one permanent resident but I didn't stay long. they studied burrowing owls, horribly invasive rabbits, ruins from early new england settlers and a now feral cow population the settlers just left for some reason.

Its bizarre to be warned about the dangerous cows that lurk in the woods nearby and how they can appear and disappear into the trees faster than you will realize it. It is even more bizarre to be walking in the woods planting your little pink flags to mark burrows when out of nowhere there is a huge godamn cow in front of you that is blessedly more afraid of you than you are of it as it slowly backs back into the trees and disappears.

Loved the research lighthouse life and the cool stories I got to be a part of. Unfortunately decided that it was not what I wanted to dedicate my life to for various reasons tumblr wouldn't find interesting.

For people who are super interested in lighthouse adventures, look up college of the atlantic where I was a student when I had my cool lighthouse adventures (they have a kickass program)

For people who just want to get the fuck away from everyone, enjoy some nature and live a nice quiet life I much more highly recommend checking out forestry jobs.

[lyracasstuff]

!!!! could i please get hcs for naib and demi (separately) with a princess s/o (fem)? like her role is a princess and all that jazz :D (i recently made a main which is this one, im an idv blog myself i just like requesting things for other blogs :D)

I really really like this request..（・∀・）

Although, please excuse me if these headcannons are shorter for your taste,, I had been busy for quite a while,, and so my brain juices are a little drained...(⌒_⌒;)

Also,, hello fellow idv blogger!!（〜^∇^)〜

Naib and Demi x Fem! Princess! S/o👑✨

Naib Subedar🌛🌌

He would really be shocked and confused as to 1) HOW you got here? And 2) WHY are you here?

You, a ROYAL? Someone who's been sheltered and pampered ALL her LIFE, would PARTICIPATE in a gruesome game like THIS???

He really couldn't understand it..

Although he was very curious about you,, he *did* hold himself back from walking up to you and just bombard you with ALL sorts of questions..

So, it took the both of you some time to be acquainted with each other.. Naib started out small,, like greeting you with a rather stiff and rusty bow in an attempt to "match" with your own elegant courtesy whenever you two crossed paths..( ´ ▽ ` )

Or pulling your seat for you whenever you would sit down and prepare for a match..

To even lending you a hand in carrying your stuff when they were too heavy such as books, clothes, personal hygeine items, hair care, skin care, etc...

(Naib really wonders if you REALLY needed all of your 50 ballgowns and dresses...)

He just really wants you to feel at home despite being trapped in a manor..

On the topic of making you feel at home...

There's another thing aside from doing acts of service: protectiveness

He understands that you were most likely protected and guarded by knights before you went into the manor,, so you *probably* didn't know much about self defense...

So if anyone EVER tries to touch you, be it your hair, your face, your arm..

You can *BET* that Naib is going to be slapping said person's hand away while ushering you to get behind him..

He WILL do this to BOTH survivor OR hunter by the way...(｡･ω･｡)

You were very much pleased by Naib's protection and support,, he was just like your own personal butler and knight back home!!

Over time,, Naib's gestures had gotten bolder and bolder...

He went from doing acts of service, to teaching you how to kite, how to heal, how to rescue, how to vault windows, etc...

However,, you may or may not have teared up from the fact that you accidentally snagged a piece of your favorite dress from trying to put down a pallet...(^_^;)

Naib really panicked at that time.. He knows how to sew open wounds, not dresses and ballgowns!! (◎_◎;)

Nevertheless,, the both of you would still have fun by the end of the day..

Naib really couldn't help but be in love with you... How could he not though?? You were so sweet and elegant in everything that you do..

Even during the moments where you weren't the most elegant,, he still cherished it all the same..( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ

Which is why he REALLY couldn't deny his jealousy and saltiness towards Wu chang, Joseph, heck,, even Mary sometimes.. Joseph and Mary are both nobles so OF COURSE you would relate to the aristocratic life,, and Wu chang were GUARDS before they got into the manor,, so OF COURSE they would serve as better protectors than he is..

Then, look at him,, he's nothing more than a man whose ENTIRE job revolves around killing targets that his clients propose.. Well,, at least that's what he thinks anyways..

Be that as it may,, Naib's mind would still be plagued by this thought.. So much so that He doesn't even notice that he's been distancing himself from you...

You aren't the same however... You KNOW that something's been disturbing him, you KNOW that something's upsetting him.. You can literally FEEL it..

And so,, in these times, you would decide to come visit him in his designated room,, all the while comforting him and telling him that while he may not be a noble or a guard,, you still love him regardless of his status and that you are grateful for everything that he's done for you..❤

Naib says nothing,, however, his body language and look of pure love and adoration on his face tells you everything you need to know..❤❤❤

That day has now marked an important event of your lives: the start of a new, blooming relationship..（⌒▽⌒）

First of all,, remember how I talked about his jealousy and protectiveness?? Well,, those just got amplified when you two are confirmed to be in a relationship now..

He sometimes does this thing where if someone wants to speak with you,, Naib would do either of these 2 things: either he asks you if you want to speak to them OR if he's feeling a little selfish with your time,, he just tells them to go "set up an appointment" with you...

He is really astonished at all the different kinds of spoons and forks, all the different etiquettes you follow, the amount of tiaras that you have...

And *especially* at how many relatives that you have.. Which was MUCH larger than the average family size...

((Fun fact: During the Victorian Era, the average family size was actually 6 children.. It had gone down by half by the end of said Era..))

I can't tell why,, but I have this headcannon in my mind that Naib actually prefers more simpler clothing on you.. He just doesn't like too much "eye clutter" per say...

That,, and there's just something so mesmerizing about your regal beauty meshing into the very simple clothing that Naib just finds so.. Heavenly..

All in all,, Naib is just dumbfounded and amazed as to how you had fallen in love with him and just how lucky he is at being with someone like you..

🌛💚🌛💚🌛💚🌛💚🌛💚🌛💚🌛💚🌛💚

Demi Bourbon🍺🍷

Much like Naib,, Demi over here is confused as to what a royal is doing here...

Unlike Naib, however, Demi is more upfront and straightforward and would just walk up to you and ask you directly..

"Woah!! Hey there!! What's a cute lil blueblood doin here??"

You get this question a LOT.. It stuck around for so long that it became an inside joke whenever Demi sees you in the same room as her...╮(─▽─)╭

Now,, she may be a girl,, but don't be fooled... She's surprisingly strong for her physique... So she'll DEFINITELY help you carry your stuff...

Just be prepared to be bombarded with ALL SORTS OF QUESTIONS about your stuff..

"Daaammnnn~ You royals really love your fancy schmancy stuff,, do you??"

"Ooooohhhh~~ A diamond encrusted necklace?? Hey, you wouldn't mind me borrowing it right??"

"This ball gown matches well with one of my costumes! Hey, how about we both dress up? We would REALLY look great together~❤"

You're going to have to get used to these questions someday...（・∀・）

She DOES teach you the basics,, but in all honesty, she never really lets you apply the things that you learned when you're actually in matches...

A hunter is right behind you?? You can bet that Demi will chug down her D.U.P.H.R.I.N, run as fast as she could and sweep you off your feet in a bridal carry..（＾ｖ＾）

"It is I, Your Knight in shining armor!!"

This happens all the time in matches

A hunter is preparing to take a swing on you?? Well,, not on Demi's watch!! Before the hunter can swing their weapon at you, Demi takes one of her bottles and smashes it onto their head...

She DID lose some morality points for that though....

Eventually,, you had to tell Demi that as much as you appreciate her "support", you still have to stand on your own,, ESPECIALLY when Demi is not in the same match as you are..

Demi would *reluctantly* agree and say that she just can't stand the thought of you being hurt, she doesn't want you to be in harm's way because she knows that some survivors *probably* just see you as dead weight,, considering you've been pampered your whole entire life..

Demi would then go on and tell you that she had been taking a liking towards you, and is interested in being in a relationship with you..

"Listen, your highness, I may not be an ACTUAL knight in shining armor, or a prince from some far away land.. But, I'd still want to take a chance at persuing you.. So, what do you say? Will you allow me to take a chance at wooing your heart??"

You of course say yes,, besides, you don't really care if she is of noble blood or not.. Her bold and daring personality is what made you like her..

And thus,, your relationship has started!!

Demi gets a *little* protective over you,, ESPECIALLY when someone's trying to flirt with you..

"Ah, ah, ah, she's mine~~"

"Oi, she's already taken, you idiot! How about go flirtin with someone who's NOT TAKEN???"

Demi over here doesn't really have any problem regarding jealousy,, if anything,, YOU might be the one having some jealousy problems here and there..

Because Demi practically flirts with anything and everything..

Never fear!! Demi would ALWAYS be there to give you reassurance that you're her one and only..( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ

After that,, she'll tone down her flirty nature by a couple of notches so as to not worry you too much...

Demi would also serve you drinks!! For FREE!!(ノ^o^)ノ

The best part about this is that,, not only are you getting it for free, but you're also getting the FINEST quality...

And she serves your drink in the most dramatic way possible,, all accompanied by a cheeky wink at the end..😉

"Only the FINEST for your highness~❤"

Overall,, your relationship with Demi is surely an exciting and playful one! But don't let that make you think that Demi doesn't take you seriously..

Because she does!! And she will ALWAYS take your relationship seriously!!❤❤❤

🍺🍷🍺🍷🍺🍷🍺🍷🍺🍷🍺🍷🍺🍷🍺🍷

Author's note: I apologize if these headcannons are shorter and a bit "lackluster" for everyone's taste.. As stated before,, I had been busy as of late, so I wasn't able to regain much of my brain juices to write properly like usual..

Nevertheless,, I still hope that you enjoyed reading these headcannons!! (⌒_⌒;)(*´∀`*)

Until next time!! See you all in my next post!!ヾ(＠^∇^＠)ノ💚

[softkuna]

𝚁𝙴𝙽𝚃-𝙰-𝙱𝙾𝚈𝙵𝚁𝙸𝙴𝙽𝙳 | meian shugo

𝚆𝚎𝚕𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚁𝙴𝙽𝚃-𝙰-𝙱𝙾𝚈𝙵𝚁𝙸𝙴𝙽𝙳! 𝙴𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑... 𝙼𝙴𝙸𝙰𝙽 𝚂𝙷𝚄𝙶𝙾

Meian settled into a Jeep Wrangler Rubicon that he rented from some fancy schmancy place. His date would be waiting for him not too far from that point. From her profile photos, she was cute. Small from what it seemed, but when you’re 6’5” most people were small. The profile was very obviously not written by herself seeing as most the answers included “my friend likes…”

He pulled up the map and sent an ETA through the app. He rolled the window down, letting an arm fold out while his hand remained on the wheel. Driving was his serenity and it was a damn shame he couldn’t drive as often as he wanted to. He was a humble man, not one to brag about his garage of cars. Not one to talk about how he liked to fix’em up.

It took all of 15 minutes to reach the meet up point. He saw you, but your head was down in your phone, hand along your neck and fingers tapping at the skin. He was supposed to be your boyfriend for the day. He had a date or two already to which he was tipped generously for his time. It was a natural thing for him. He was a relationship type of guy. He was always more on the natural air of things, confidence coming with age. With a face like his and a career like his, it could only grow with each person who approached him.

But for some reason, seeing you look so nervous while waiting for him made him want to not lay it on so heavy. Others he laid it thick with the ‘doll face,’ ‘pup’, ‘sugar’. (One date he didn’t even need to leave his room. It was a zoom call where he had his camera off. She had told him ‘I want you to piss my parents off.’ )

You looked up to see your date for the evening, Meian Shugo. He was in a black Jeep, high off the ground. His smile was broad, confident, gleaming. All the confidence you had built up from Shoyo had suddenly vanished. You thought you’d do so well this time but the butterflies swarmed in your stomach so violently you feared their wings would cut through your stomach.

There was a moment of silence, both of you staring at each other until he barked a laugh and hopped out of the car. Oh lord he was huge. Massive. You resisted every fiber of your being that wanted to ask him about the weather.

Meian placed a hand gently between your shoulder blades, guiding you to the opened passenger side door, “I don’t bite… much.” With a wink, he closed your door and sat on his own side.

“I-is this your car?” Your stammering was adorable.

“Nah,” he waved a large hand, “Rented it. I do own one like it back home.” He gestured a thumb behind him, pointing to a figurative ‘home.’ You nodded once and fluttered fingers to your cheeks, covering the blush when you felt his eyes on you.

He blinked at your non-winter-weather outfit; light wash and high waisted denim shorts with a thick belt. They looked big, but he figured that was the style now’a days. You had on some cream colored spaghetti strap tank top that cropped just above the belt. And a dusty pink cardigan made of…

“Ey, hon, what’s this fabric? Mind if I-?” He pinched a little between his fingers, rubbing the material. It was soft. Really soft. Nothing like he’s seen before.

“Polyester? I think??” You pulled it off and looked at the tag, “Yep! It’s not mine though. It’s my friend’s. They likes to dress me up.”

“Aren’t ya cold?”

“A little, but we’re in a car so it’s no big deal.”

His arm hung out the window, pulling back in to shift gears here and there. You stared out to the horizon, stiff as a board. You weren’t the easiest to talk to at first, often muttering single worded responses.

You couldn’t help it. He was handsome as hell. Shoyo had a boyish charm to him, especially with how energetic he was, but Meian. He was a man. A sharp edge to him that definitely couldn’t be read as anything other than comfortable masculinity.

Snapping out of your daze, you perked. You were going across a bridge. A beautiful one at that. You could see the sun just above the ocean. Probably an hour or two before sunset. Both of your hands gripped the car window,  “Meian,” you called with a slight pitch in your voice, “this is gorgeous!” You beamed at him a tad over-excitedly.

His lazy smile broadened, “Figured you’d like it.” It did say in your profile that it was one of your favorite spots to be at.

Within another set of minutes, awkward silence melted into comfort. The car stopped in an empty parking lot. It wasn’t like there were many people at the beach around 4 PM on a winter weekday. Your eyes were glued on the man as you watched his hand shift the gear to park and suddenly you remembered his proposition.

You were learning how to drive a stick shift.

“Alright pup, gonna teach ya a new trick,” He reached underneath the seat, craning it back as far as it could go. Not like it was far considering how long those legs were. Nervously you unbuckled, leaning on the console to peer at the petals.

Your heart stopped and your lips pursed slightly. Meian took one look at your expression and bit back his laugh. You looked up to him with a crease in your brow, “Why are there three petals?”

Soon enough, you were in the driver’s seat and he was in the passenger side. You searched for the lever to pull the seat up and blushed when Meian reached under to show you. At this point, it wasn’t even that he was uncomfortable to be with. It was quite the opposite. He was relaxed and maybe a little teasing. If people were colors, he’d be a serene seafoam. No, what made you nervous was how attractive you found him and how he so perfectly acted out the role of boyfriend.

“Let’s start in first, ‘kay?”

You nodded, swallowing down your anxiety. Push out of your comfort zone. More like shove you out the comfort window.

“Remember which one’s the break?” Meian peered to your legs, foot hesitantly over what you thought was the break, “Good! Now what?”

“Emergency break?” Now it was your hand’s turn to hover.

“Atta girl!” He was impressed at your memory. Most people would’ve forgotten that step if they only drove automatic. When his eyes met yours he could swear to god he saw the sparks light up in them. So you’re a praise learner, huh?

You glanced down, moving your left foot to the clutch and pressed it down. While still on break, your hand slid onto the gear shift. You waited. Picking up on the subtle clue, the captain nodded, “Yep, go to first.” His right hand hooked to the handle by the window casually.

You shifted into first. Feeling his eyes on you, you wanted to show him that you remembered his mini lesson and peered at the dash to the RPM, watching it move up before slowly letting go of the clutch. Just like that, the car began rolling.

Meian’s palm smacked the roof of the car as he hollered, lop-sided lips tugging up. You bounced excitedly, eyes switching between the gear shift, the petals, and the RPM.

You switched gears successfully not once, but twice. Each time, Meian showered you in praise. Your heart fluttered and it made you want to do more. When you turned the wheel, he encouraged you to go to the road. Anxiety crept up in you and you felt your palms sweat on the leather. He leaned the seat back, “Nothin’ta worry about. You’re a natural. Just keep doin’ what you’re doin’ and you’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?” Your voice wavered with giddiness and uncertainty. Should he really be trusting your novice driving skills like this? You seriously questioned his judgment calls.

He peered at you from the corner of his eye, taking in the laser focus you had on the road. Hell, you even stopped gnawing your lip like it was the last food to grace the earth. He crossed his arms and tilted his head back, deciding to close his eyes, “Sure as I can be, pup. Gotta question for ya.” You hummed, leaning forward slightly to view the empty road better. He continued, “How’d ya get so good at multitasking?”

You took a moment to answer, making sure to shift appropriately as you picked up speed, “I do a lot of art – pottery and all. Professionally.” You really couldn’t multitask as well as he thought you could, but you wanted to impress him, “It’s kind of like a pottery wheel with petal and speed and hand things. That’s the closest I can get, though. There isn’t a lot of multitasking in the other art things I do, really. Not like this.”

The Jackal’s captain fully looked at you in that moment, a small ‘huh’ leaving his lips. He took in the bit of clay that lodged itself under your bitten nails and the small stripe of white paint on your thighs from propping up a canvas before the edges dried. Meian never dated an artist before, but he wanted to now.

Comfort came after driving a few circles. Eventually you found yourself on a strip of road that extended far out. Meian remained laid back, eyes closed. He never fell asleep and instead listened to you sing along to songs that played on the radio (which was turned on after the third circle seeing as you were deemed ‘good ’nuff’ for the minor distraction).

 You occasionally chit chatted about this and that. You learned that he was an athlete – like your last date. He learned that you’re supporting yourself alone. Your parents didn’t exactly vibe with you being an artist and skipping university all together. You didn’t tell him you had a date with Shoyo, though. Just like he didn’t tell you that he was part of a professional team with Shoyo.

He felt comfortable. You felt comfortable. That’s when three things happened.

1.       You passed a 15 mph speed limit sign.

2.       You saw that you were going 65 mph.

3.       You felt Meian rest a warm palm on your thigh.

Now, in quite literally any other context, that would be a pleasant boyfriend-like thing to do. He was simply acting his part’. Surely, he did the same thing with other clients. However. That combined with the other two made your heart, lungs, and soul try to jump out of your corporeal form and into the next dimension.

First gear. First gear! First gear!

Whipping it into first, the car decided you were the bourgeoisie and it was the working class. It straight revolted, a loud clattering was accompanied by you scrambling around in a panic. Meian sprang up, but his torso was snapped back by the seatbelt’s safety. He unbuckled (like a moron) and kicked your foot out of the way from its spot to press and pull both available breaks.

You sat in silence, hands over your mouth and eyes wide. A choir of ‘oh shit’ sang in your mind, commemorating your funeral with their harmony.

It took some shuffling, but Meian went back to driver’s side. You stood next to the car by the shoulder of the road. A burning smell tickled your nose. Your date came out, hands on his hips and lips pursed to the side. Coming to you, he sighed, “Transmission or clutch went awol. Damn thing won’t start back up. Nothin’s leakin’.”

You sucked your lips in and resisted the urge to scream. Throwing up was one thing. Breaking a rental car was an entirely different one. You bowed, “Meian, I am so so sorry. I should’ve been paying attention and I-I-“

“Woah, woah, girlie, calm yourself. Don’t need’ta do any of this shit,” He bent at the waist, peering at your squinting eyes. His hand rested at the curve of your shoulder into your neck, thumb stroking calmly at the spots you had tapped at before he picked you up. The effort brought near immediate relief, but anxiety made you wonder if he was masking his anger for the sake of his job. When he smiled, you knew it was genuine, “I’m damn near 30. This isn’t even the most expensive car I’ve had this happen to. Don’t worry about a thing, pups. ‘Sides, I shoulda been watching you closer. Blame the teacher, not the student.”

The words were like warm lavender winds brushing away your damp and dead leaves. You offered to pay for the expenses, not daring to mention how it would clear out your savings. Meian waved a hand, “Nah. I got it. I make more than enough to cover this plus some.”

“Then why are you a rental boy-“

“-Help me push it, will ya?” He interrupted, not wanting to admit that it was because of a bet with his troublesome teammate.

You tried to put the car into neutral as per his instructions the best you could, jogging to the back to join him in pushing. You had to admit, the view of his arms working and him pushing a vehicle was a sight to behold. 

All the two of you did was push it to the side of the road, so no cars could hit it. You leaned on the rail protecting traffic from tipping off into the waters below while Meian called the company to explain what happened.

When he hung up, he went to put the phone in his pocket, but the sight of you stopped him. You sat on the rail, facing the ocean at sunset. The cardigan you wore slid just below your shoulders and the cool breeze tousled locks so gracefully. A ghosting feeling went through his fingers as they yearned to be the wind. He snapped a photo in landscape mode.

You turned, brushing hair back around your ear and smiled to him. He snapped another photo and you gestured to him to the spot next to you. He did, leaning his forearms on the cold metal, “Hope ya don’t mind.”

“That you took photos? I mean… I thought it was against the rules. Just ahh…. Hm. Send them to me through the app? Can you do that?”

“Think so, yeah. You looked good. Cold, but good,” The words were said as the photos were sent. You saved them with a bashful thanks.

“Since the date’s almost up, my friend’s coming to get me. Will you be okay?” You glanced down to him, leaning forward as you added pressure to the bar at your toes, keeping you from falling.

“I’ll be just fine. Gotta wait for a tow,” He paused and moved to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you to lean into him, “Makin’ me anxious leanin’ like that.” His husky laugh was whisked with ocean breeze. You followed, reveling in the warmth. He liked that you were comfortable enough to accept the gesture. It’s what boyfriends did, right? Even if they weren’t real. Even if reality settled wrong in his stomach.

“The ocean’s so pretty,” You’ve always admired how the waves soaked up the sun’s colors. Oil paintings you’ve made throughout your life a testament to that love.

Meian glanced at you, then the horizon, “Yeah, but I’ve seen better.”

“If I rent you again, take me to ‘better’,” You giggled, missing the look in his eyes and the meaning of his words. Your phone rang, “Oh! That’s my friend, they’re here now - across the street!” Head tilted back, you looked up to him, “Thank you for teaching me how to drive and I really am sorry about the car. I wish I knew how to help.”

“Not a problem, pups. Rate me good. That’s help enough.”

His arms felt empty when you left them.

He checked his phone and saw that once the time struck, the contact was erased automatically. Meian sighed, scrolling through the next few clients he had lined up - his last few dates, he decided. With good tips, he still had a good shot at the win, anyway.

“How’d this one go hot stuff? No throwing up?” There was nonchalant concern in the question. 

You sat back heavily, “No throwing up. I learned how to drive stick shift, though. Then broke the car..”

“You didn’t have to pay for that, right? Those cars are outrageously expensive, ‘specially from those rental places.”

“No, he said he made enough to cover it, weirdly enough.”

“Huh. Well that’s nice of him.,” You friend commented, “Wonder what he does.”

“Me too,” You thought about Shoyo and the up-scale restaurants he took you to, “Me too.” 

“Wait, didn’t he offer you a jacket? That was the whole purpose of the shorts! What a dick!”

Tag List: @flattykawadoorusmilkbread​ 

[endlines]

oh to ramble about autistic Malcolm Graves and how much i love him

he’s never felt like he’s fit into an NT worldview, even as a kid. the biggest thing that’s always set him apart is his sense of empathy/sympathy - he isn’t inherently good at recognizing other people’s feelings or relating to them, nor is he very good at articulating his own feelings to others. as a kid he wasn’t very good at understanding physical social cues/body language but that has mostly come to him with age and a lot of experience dealing with people. as a small child, his mom could get in his face and scream at him and Graves would struggle to understand that she was angry.

obviously this isn’t a lack of intelligence, on his part. he has mostly adapted to read other people decently well on the surface (interpreting common body language habits, tone indicators, etc etc) but with identifying more complex feelings and emotions in others he does tend to feel like he’s at a loss. he has a hard time feeling empathy or sympathy for strangers and sometimes loved ones (this is somewhat elevated by BPD as well, and i should clarify he is not INCAPABLE of feeling these things and most of the time he IS actively trying. it’s just difficult.) and he also REALLY struggles articulating himself out loud.

his solution to the latter is that he’ll write and/or sign something that Feels complicated or difficult to say out loud. (and yeah he knows sign language, on account of the fact he’s like. at least partially deaf at this point) for the most part he just does not understand the very delicate world of social cues and social expectations that NT people expect him to live in without offending all their sensibilities, and being in prison for ten years and effectively going insane did not. Help. he will shut down and go nonverbal if he feels overwhelmed or overstimulated; he’s pretty sensitive to stimuli but has a pretty Long list of PTSD triggers as well so shit kinda sucks sometimes, but he’s pretty good at identifying those things and making a point to stay away from them. 

at this point in his life, he doesn’t really care anymore. people are going to get him as he is and that’s fine if they don’t like him or think he’s weird. he is happy as a clam to leave all the chitchat to TF because lord knows Graves doesn’t want to do the mental gymnastics that is trying to figure out what people want from him when they don’t want to be direct. part of the reason he’s so content to exist in bilgewater i think is because it’s the only place he’s ever been that doesn’t have any fancy schmancy prim proper unwritten social rules he’s meant to follow. piltover is like his own personal hell.

he has his special interests, namely guns/artillery and such. he could ramble for literal hours about a gun and its make, the history of the manufacturer, how they made it, everything. he’ll tinker with destiny and anything else he can get his hands on constantly and in a way destiny is. definitely a comfort object (though he does have others). he stims primarily by pacing or putting things in his mouth (hence where the smoking habit came from - when he finally quits he’ll just chew on a toothpick or bite his nails something) and a few other menial gestures like bouncing his leg, tapping his fingers, etc. he isn’t a very animated guy.

and while Graves is just rude in general, you’re bound to get a better response out of him if you’re just direct with him. tell him what you want or what you’re looking for. if you make him play games in his own head to figure out what the hell you’re looking for out of him, he’s just gonna get pissed off and bite you probably.

Graves is just so delightfully neurodivergent :]

[ghost-chance]

Earlier today, I remembered something interesting that I just had to share.

If you live within the range of the Brown Recluse, chances are you know it's not a spider you want to mess with. Chances are, you also know that bites often result in necrosis - two tiny pricks turn into a giant, rotting, gaping hole in your arm, leg, or whatever, and if you're especially unlucky, you may lose whatever part of your body was bitten. It's common knowledge, and in parts of the South, it's drummed into kids' skulls as early as grade school that spiders with fiddles on their backs are to be avoided, and that being bitten will make your bitten spot rot clean off.

Some years ago - maybe as many as ten, maybe as few as five - I was perusing a forum where one could get medical advice. After finding the information I was looking for - I wasn't bitten by a spider but my cats were in need of a flea dip - I kept scrolling and the site kept offering me new threads to scroll through. Eventually, I wound up on a thread about treating Brown Recluse bites prior to visiting the doctor.

The comment with the most votes detailed one person's method of dealing with Brown Recluse bites, the fact that they still had all their limbs, and were not dead. If this person was to be believed, they were bitten routinely - a few times monthly, if I recall - and always treated the bite with the same method and success. Steps one and two involved scraping the skin off - not clean, off - around the bite and scouring it with lye soap. Step three made me throw up a little in my mouth: "pour bleach on the bite - undiluted, not laundry bleach."

I have to admit, after that horrible mental image, I skimmed to the last "step" and moved on; for all we know, this person might have also set their skin on fire in hopes of treating the deadly condition before it could gain hold. Whatever the remaining details, that person never suffered necrosis as a result of a bite and was darned proud of their system. Some people who read that post might believe the person was onto something - they discovered a miracle treatment that the world needed to know about - but other people will have a few more facts to work with.

The truth is...Brown Recluse bites do not always result in necrosis. They can result in necrosis if they aren't kept clean, if you try to squeeze out the venom like it's a pointy wasp butt, and if you don't seek immediate treatment if the situation starts to look off.

When schools teach their kids about the spiders most exaggerate the risk of necrosis. They're working with kids, and kids aren't the best judges of risk. Kids will often hear the "it won't always happen but it can happen and tell themselves "well, it won't happen to me." What happens then? They try to play with the spider because they're kids; when that happens they get bitten, and many of those kids end up with huge scars or even missing appendages, and the parents blame the schools for letting their babies be complete idiots. So, solution: Schools tell kids "you get bit, you get dead;" when those kids grow up and have kids, they tell them the same, even if they've learned the truth.

Now. Imagine you don't know that bites won't always go bad. You get bitten, get terrified, and do everything you can think of to clean out the venom before it can start melting the flesh right off your bones. Necrosis never happens. "Huh," you say to yourself, "maybe this is a solution!" You get bitten again, follow the same steps, and get the same results - no necrosis. You decide that your actions have prevented necrosis when, in reality, just taking care of the bite can prevent necrosis. On the subject of the person who shared this 'foolproof bite routine,' they begrudgingly admitted in later comments that not everything was roses and kittens. They developed terrible scarring each time they were bitten and shared some horrifying side effects...but it was worth it because they weren't dead.

Now, reverse the logic - imagine you think doing something will harm you when it's actually going to help you. You avoid that something, don't come to immediate harm, and decide that whatever it was really was harmful because you're safe after avoiding it. Sound familiar? It should. You're also liable to end up dealing with the consequences later on just like the Spider Bite Bleacher.

Your turn to get that fancy-schmancy new vaccine may come soon, and when it does, remember what I've told you. People say Brown Recluse bites will kill you, but they usually won't, and you'll be hurt more by tearing up your skin and pouring bleach on it. People also say vaccines will hurt you but they usually won't, and not vaccinating leaves you and others at risk for deadly diseases.

Don't be the crackhead slicing your skin off and bathing in bleach and declaring yourself safe. Get informed through reputable sources, get your shots, and don't play with the friggin' spiders.

[sugar-petals]

SuperM as Subs

↪ A/N. UGH these guys have me fucking spiraling. very excited to bring you this, please indulge 👀

○ warnings ⚠️ 18+, dom/sub, kinks galore, gender-neutral dom!reader

3.5k words | bullet points | this is all over the place there is so much to say i—

⌈ ten

— motto: kitten has ‘ten’ in it, but so does intense.

wowza honey

best choke out you’ll find

the stamina, too, oh lord. ten can handle a lightning fast riding without blowing up in two minutes

all while you choke him

with a waist harness on and ankles bound

bondage looks so good on him; he’s flexible and enduring. imagine a hogtie... art. 

such a beautiful man.

literally, rope marks, imagine that

we need to talk about his pain threshold as well there

things that have other guys screaming are a mere tickle to him

i can’t emphasize enough how lucky you’ll be. this fella does not have to be trained much. experience? abundant. talent? more than vast. he knows precisely how far he can go with what kind of kink. that is invaluable.

and now, the most mind-blowing part. stress: he encourages you to take it all out on him. in his mind, that’s an extra treat and a promise he gets it raw how he loves it. 

your satisfaction is his fuel, as is seeing you unwind. 

the whole progression from heavy beginnings to breathless ends

the boy needs you to go, for the lack of a better word, buck-wild

so yes, ten is your number one (pun intended) address for all things messy. he asks you to hatefuck him, you spoil him with it.

the sheer masochism of him

are you kidding me

listen i’m not a fan of the sin concept but in this case... you can sin all you want with him

tl;dr: angry sex is his thing. strong emotions. guts will be rearranged.

about the elephant in the room: yeah, this guy can bust some extraterrestrial, dazzling, sexy as hell moves

that means one thing. contortionism. you can bend him into every position you desire and fuck him like that. he’s petite but don’t worry. your babe’s strong

in fact, you can sit on his face and get one ferocious rimming daily

things will get wet wetter wettest

surprise surprise vice versa he likes his own ass filled with plugs and vibrators

the type that buzzes him into a delirium while you slap him. with his neck turning red and those pretty almond eyes going wide. 

they do hold the universe. he’s just so enthralling.

btw. talking about toys. having a fleshlight ready to make him moan and ruin his orgasm is a veeery good idea.

chances are you will draw cute english or thai interjections from him

in return, you can call him your prince and kiss him all over for aftercare. he’s no different, thinking of you as someone figuratively and literally noble to him. he’s thankful you fulfill his greatest sexual dreams. it’s true, you’ll really worship each other.

he’ll do his little mona lisa smile and doze off in your lap...

sub!ten is just priceless okay

10/10

i need a moment

⌈ kai

— motto: local strip club found bankrupt.

oh mY GOD nini

he knows how it’s done

did he go to sub school or something

you’ll find him at the stove around 6:30 AM in his apron

making you breakfast pretty much butt naked otherwise

flustered and sexy butler kim right at your service

looking very sculpted

dancing a little, as usual, he’s getting into it

in other words, you’re sure to get those eggs fried well

now, besides his skimpy clothing and waiter allure

kai as a submissive is almost definite to be an epitome of organization. he’s just good at it. period. lube and protection are always in the house.

you do your part doing maintenance for toys and cracking the occasional whip but really i mean... as the great oh sehun once said... never don’t mind about a thing when jongin gets the chance to put something in order

so lean back — kai is a service sub. he’s the type who wants to break a sweat for you

and have that very visible because he doesn’t own clothes anyway. well, well.

something more about organization

fucking according to a schedule sounds about right

you have it all planned out with a special calendar book just for that purpose

but don’t believe he’ll be boring and hyper-structured beyond that

kai is the precise opposite of dull as a lover but that’s a huge duh

he has both the acute sense of bashful romance and strong erotic feelings that come with a regular eyebrow wiggle

he likes to provoke the wild animal in his partner

reckless abandon

kai is 100% guaranteed to make you let out the beast. he enjoys feeling you go all out and grip him, pin him. everything hands-on is good.

grinding and gyrating is always part of sex. hell, even floating and flying. fuck gravity.

you need a certain level of dexterity. and hey if you don’t, you will pick it up from him in a solid minute

what i’m trying to say is that it won’t happen that the two of you rub against each other in the sheets like two blocks of wood (even when going into aftercare!). it will be fluid, ever-moving, energetic right and left with the mattress creaking all over the damn place

sex with jongin is one thing for sure: fucking fast. he won’t mess up his tempo if you know what i mean. the two of you will be thrusting and moaning until complete fatigue sets in

he whines a lot i’m telling you

it’s the surefire way to know kai is into it, being genuinely vocal is one of his best qualities as a sub

besides handling any rough pace 

this guy will have you sneaking into his gym room and have a quickie on the next best workout bench

and lord knows what else. 

the bathroom is another destination. wet!kai, the yearning romeo, is an image you won’t forget

prepare to get your hands on all of that

he’s gonna melt right into ya

and that is sub!kai for you

⌈ taeyong

— motto: vanilla? hardly heard of her.

to use an nct pun: the options are— limitless.

and another: you’re signed up for a... long flight.

and you’re gonna be the: boss

who gives it to him

and i’m warning you

he’s shy about it but

taeyong is simply insatiable. take his kinky reputation at face value.

what doesn’t he do

the softest softcore (feathers to tease him) to the hardest hardcore (edge play, hallelujah), the whole spectrum without any efforts for transitions

so you guessed it, a normal bedroom really won’t do.

neither does a standard dom

but since you’re knee deep into taeyong — go figure, you’re reading this — news flash you likely aren’t one

plug in all of your toys and cameras for date night. he needs his good dose of lube-dripping fantasy, homemade with a bunch of latex thrown into the mix

yeah i know that will escalate quickly

he wears it well i’m telling you

and also greatly enjoys you donning it for friday evening

it will frustrate him to the max which is a sight to see indeed

no other sub in super m gets harder boners over latex. that’s how it is. he’s just so drawn to the material and how much authority it gives you in particular

noona/oppa kink incarnate

hell, even daddy/mommy

he calls you that when you are forehead to forehead and catching your breath

because man these orgasms are going to get you so high, bodies gently intertwined

and very, very drenched

not just skin-wise

so let me underline this

your dear taeyong, no matter how innocently he can blink at you, gets his daily nutrient intake from cum. 

what fancy-schmancy protein shake is he interested in other than yours like literally none

put him on a leash together with baekhyun and you have two salivating, ultra dirty boys

so ready to please and swallow everything up

taeyong is a handsome handful

you’ll be horny 24/7

or 23/7 maybe because aftercare

where we revert back to adorable yong. he clings to you a lot, you nuzzle him all the time, the affection is off the charts

he’s pouty and sweet, smiling to himself

holding him tight gives him a big sense of security. 

safe to say he wants everybody to know he belongs to you in terms of PDA, too

it’s not restricted to domestic intimacy and sexual aftermath

taeyong truly has the perfect ratio of freaky and soft

god worked hard on him

⌈ lucas

— motto: when bigger is better, things get wetter...

ready for take off are we 

yukhei is one flirty crackhead you’ll love it

teasing will go back and forth

there might even be play fights and wrestling involved. messing around on sofas and carpets, you know the deal. things won’t get too rowdy, he’s being his 6′ baby self and you don’t want to use your whole bag of tricks yet vice versa

lucas eventually lets you win anyways

and acts like he’s lethally injured ffs

he’s an aquarius don’t come for him they roll that way

in comes the patient-doctor roleplay. yep that’s how the story goes

and you sure as hell get to take care of um

luke’s big lightsaber

alright

it’s throbbing a bit too much and needs medicine

so think of yourself as a jedi master training your disciple.

read: edging the living soul out of him. 

rough handjobs are just perfect

as is going on a rodeo trip getting the guy to tame those bucking hips with a lil punishment here and there. and with punishment i mean tickling even when he is close to orgasm

uh-oh

wong yukhei is a cutie pie but he has just about a bucket of cum for you spilling all over the place

he might get a lil embarrassed about it, that’s the sweetest thing

cleaning it up will be his greatest pleasure

so

ready for subby lucas yet?

he’s juicy

so what else do we have... 

(besides that he sounds like harry styles is dubbing him and that voice is going to turn you on so hard)

if his dominant doesn’t have an ounce of a muscle and biting kink that’s, how to put it, a missed opportunity

just licking him and leaving marks everywhere just has to be the biggest feast in history. you have him parade around sleeveless just to see the hickeys on his arms. 

and you don’t have to be frugal. it has to scream mine mine mine. yes, xuxi has some arm sensitivity going on. he needs your mouth on him doing chaotic stuff that leaves his jaw hanging open. to the point of you eating your brunch off his chest and shoulders.

there i said it 

breakfast with yukhei is cancelled. it’s breakfast on yukhei

as for positions: things are usually more chill and standard. just how much missionary will there be, you’ll lose count. he’s good at it. lucas has the condensed passion of ten people, it will be more arousing than you’d think. it’s also a good pause to your usual activities, you both get a chance to um take a breath

if he feels cocky, wong brathei likes to lift you up during sex and here we go again with a staring contest... which ends with a bright smile and kissing 

what did you expect

always remember this one thing. in his big himbo brain only one thought floats around and that. is. his. love. for. you.

a whipped boy

he’s irreplaceable.

patient xuxi reports speedy recovery

⌈ mark

— motto: good boys go to heaven after debuting a couple times more

sirs and sirettes, mark lee.

what did you think the “m” in super m stands for? mario, man, massive, market, model?

nope

SuperMark is what keeps the planet spinning

now here it goes

let’s get one assumption out of the way first

you’d think he fucks how he talks but you’ll be surprised

everything’s slow slow slow

the pace is very casual for someone who raps and thinks that fast

mark is just too friggin’ cute

a blushy cupcake

innocent and always curious what you’re up to

just perfect for all sorts of gentle dominance

you can reassure him when he gets nervous which happens every now and then

and put him into soft sweaters and blankets when he feels cold

maybe even building a pillow fort and just caressing him ad nauseam literally for minutes on end.

tousling his hair would be adorable beyond belief

the same goes for giving him cheesy pet names

or feeding him sweets

you can bet chocolate is his favorite. 

but it’s not just all about pampering him

keen how he is you can expect a lot of gestures of attention from mark, like carefully selected presents and foot massages

there’s a real gentleman at your hands.

a gentlemark

he might have come up with that himself 

you bet there will be lots of humor involved mark just can’t do serious sex

his intellect is yeahhh... superhuman

as much as his heart is squishy for you.

it’s hard out there. this world is tough

but mark is a safe haven to return to and have wholesome hours in bed with

30% sex, 70% aftercare.

you think that’s impossible? look into his puppy eyes and tell me all you’ll do won’t be spooning

it’s an art form and mark is just too inviting not to do a brush stroke on the canvas. 

and after you’re done spooning things are back to more caressing

a smooch left, a smooch right

for the 30% he might need a bit of outside support because his inner perfectionist compels him

so he’ll text johnny at 4:30 in the morning with urgent questions

because his mind is racing and he promised to wake you up with a set of spicy stuff

sex veteran johnny will calmly explain it to mark but also keep it short and simple

because man how early can someone text you 

and mark appreciates a crisp how-to that he won’t forget

even when you are chest to chest feeling each other’s breath and his brain almost shuts down

at the end of the day...

you say hey canada lemme get my hands on those big thighs of yours and ding ding his pants are off. he responds so easily to guidance

and his dancing skill always helps to get groovy with you

so

bust down markiana

you’re that bitch and you know it

⌈ baekhyun

— motto: you and me, relax and ch...oking

leader on the streets 

screamer in the sheets

even the most peace-loving, noise-sensitive neighbors are going to dig the things that come out of his mouth as caused by you

just how good are his lungs

imagine him making audios for you. yes, god is real.

you just hit the lotto

the things his mouth can do 

byun baekhyun is a synonym of oral fixation when will merriam webster admit it

if there’s one person in super m who can nail the picture perfect drooling ahegao face without hesitation it’s him

he will pleasure you with his tongue so vigorously

that level of spit blowing will haunt you

and the slurpi—

THE NOISES. we can’t talk about the noises. nope, nope. the noises are not meant to be described to this world. 

you’ll suffer from incurable lust once you picture it

you know what his voice can cause

that would trigger a mass hysteria

anyway. moving on. 

baeks is the type to appreciate a mix of cheek-on-cheek cuddling and getting his brains banged out

you can toss him around, grab him by the hair, fuck him absolutely stupid

while also kissing his forehead and playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. as if he doesn’t want you enough already this will have baekhyun needy for so long

he’s the king of slutty behavior

and making both of you crack up with mid-sex jokes about who knows what, suho’s butt mole or something

he’s just too hilarious. on the other hand he likes being creative and concentrated

in his free time you’ll probably find him reading erotic stories, sketching sexy stuff (i.e., well, you) in a journal, or even a manual to the kamasutra. it gets him all hot and bothered to the point where he can’t stop being chatty about it.

baekhyun’s arousal always first manifests as a wave of words or texts 

your part of the equation is distilling the essence of said texts and getting to work on that perky body of his

and praise him plenty. baekhyun loves a lot of verbal affirmations and you’re glad to shower him with it.

kink-wise: he really has a gazillion ideas to try

costumes, gags, whips, pet play, sounding, collars, semi-clothed sex, cock rings, suspensions, you name it

as the cherry on top, a three- and fourway could be part of your routine for sure. 

that being said he might have a few dicks in him physically or mechanically because geez bacon loves fucking machines and dildos

he is 100% ready to embark on one hell of an anal odyssey

how much he can stretch out you can probably guess. and he’ll make jokes about it either way to turn you on

you’ll be certain to exhaust and stuff your lil’ darling to the brim but i’m telling you what you already know

he’s gonna be the happiest ahegao boy in the world

and throw peace signs when you take pictures of him fucked out

that’s byunbaek for you. one of a kind

a subby gem

⌈ taemin

— motto: 500 points to slytherin! 

this is what you’ve been waiting for i know I KNOW

red carpets out for the sensual sub king and nation’s p.r.e.t.t.y. boy

the international bombshell blonde

a bdsm luminary

DEITY

now, listen. 

some erotic feats are truly hard to execute

but there is always one guy who’s the exception 

and his name is lee taemin

no matter how unrealistic or complex your imagination of sex with him is

with this man, most of it can become real

effortlessly

because he’s a) an open-minded lover b) rich enough to rent ten dungeons — per hour and c) closest to perfection we as a human race have ever come 

taemin is a pro at bringing all kinds of your and his fantasies to life. that’s why it’s important that you sit down to talk about how your intimate encounters could look like every other week

primarily, as far as his taste is concerned

we’ve all heard about his tales of creepypasta romance

literally he’s been an idol for so long and still comes up with new baffling ideal type stories

so according to those

he wants to be run over by you and thinks that’s hot,,, but i say... we stick to flipping him over... like on a bed,,, no car involved

this pal is macabre you have to be an embodiment of the law to rein him in

police roleplay much. arrest this provocateur!

furthermore and on a lighter note

besides being jailed

lo and behold, chained up and decked out in lace, draped on a lip-shaped art sofa is how he feels the most in his element

add a mask and a corset 

just how glamorous is he

this guy has mastered all techniques of drawing you in with the most elaborate seduction. 

tremendous!

including dance: for your eyes only. 

prepare to have your loins set on fire.

because within the 4 walls of your home his every move will be pure danger loaded with sexuality. it would be even more of a public menace than he already is when performed in front of a crowd

keep those handcuffs ready officer

because it is your mission to stop that guy 

the more restraints the better

put five harnesses on him i don’t care as long as it contains him

and once that’s done

taemin likes to be stimulated and teased with you running silk fabric all over his body

he also enjoys you creating artistic pin-up-esque photography of him

with sultry eyes and puckered lips

and no worries. taemin will put his plump lips to good use elsewhere, too. all. over. the. place. servicing his dominant is an honor.

and those moans will be like a melody.

the literal only weak spot he has

is to kiss and tell. taemin gets carried away in conversation and feels pride when the topic switches to you. so... if you lick his earlobe and call him your slave, jongin knows the very next day and finds it very entertaining. 

taemin won’t deliberately spill the beans in a group chat but one-on-one with a close friend? he’s too excited not to talk about your chemistry and lets some juicy details slip if he can’t control himself.

taemin requires a dom/me who’s definitely not insecure and wants others to know who’s boss.

on the flipside, if you enjoy voyeurism? he is your man. it’s a matter of perspective entirely.

so to speak — even his weakness is a strength.

that’s all you need to understand about him

in sum: you got yourself quite an ace 

taem will press your number and you’ll have no sorrow in the world.

we truly are blessed by his existence

peace out

© submissive-bangtan 2017-2019. all rights reserved. do not repost.

[wigwurq]

WIG REVIEW: THE UNDOING

You guys. Remember that time I said I was going to try to watch new movie releases and do more wig reviews in preparation for the weirdest Oscar season ever? Well instead I watched a lot of prestige TV. So. Here we are! Movies be damned, there are a lot of tv shows with women in bad red wigs and I watched them! The Undoing is one of those shows. Having already suffered through two whole seasons of Nicole Kidman in another David E. Kelley prestige HBO show (AND THE HORROR OF HER WIGS!) I wasn’t sure if I could stomach another one, but you guys - this one is TOTALLY DIFFERENT. It’s in NYC and her wig is curly not straight!!! Let’s discuss (and a whole lot more!) I will be going episode by episode...

Episode 1: The Undoing

First off, I love that this episode name is just the same name as the show. I can already tell we are in for some real creativity with this show! Anyway, we meet Nicole Kidman who probably has a character name but who cares! She is super rich and married to Hugh Grant which I absolutely love as a fan of the Paddington movies - she is the villain in the first one and he is in the second - and this show already feels like a villain supergroup movie because I definitely hate both of them. They’re both doctors, their palatial house looks like a magazine, and they have a seemingly well adjusted tween who doesn’t look like either of them (but he is the kid actor from A Quiet Place and Ford v Ferrari so ok I guess he can act?) Their one problem is that said kid wants a dog but they can’t have one because Nicole Kidman tells the kid that Hugh Grant once accidentally allowed his family dog to run into traffic and his family blamed him and that definitely sounds like a lie! A big little lie!!!

Speaking of which, Nicole Kidman’s wig. As we know from my harrowing journey through her Big Little Lies wig, David E. Kelley likes her as a redhead and I hate all her wigs. This wig harkens back to the 90s when she was still a scientologist and didn’t wear wigs all the time (what a different time!) Unlike back then, Kidman now has a new terrifying face to match her terrifying wigs. Truly, I don’t know what plastic surgeon she pissed off but her mouth is in a constant Joker grin and she is barely able to move parts of her face anymore? The wig is a tangled mess but the true horror is the seamwork - the part is from places not real and also imagined and the texture is something close to a Halloween fright wig.

Which brings me to the real theme of this show: Nicole Kidman’s addiction to midweight duster coats. She owns them all, y’all. We first see her in this green velvet number which looks like a robe, spans no seasons, and also carries you nowhere. BUT paired with this red curly mess, it does look like she is paying homage to Bette Midler in Hocus Pocus, and for that I say: amen. And also: PLEASE PUT A HEX ON THIS ENTIRE SHOW PLEASE.

Now to the plot??? Nicole Kidman sends her kid to a fancy schmancy private school and she is on some fundraiser committee with her only gal pal, Lily Rabe (praise be!) plus some other harpies that definitely won’t matter to the rest of this show at all. Also present is a new interloper of indeterminate ethnicity who has the audacity to be young, attractive, bearing curly hair WITHOUT a wig, and a small child who she has to feed from her own perfect bosom. THE HARPIES ARE SO PISSED BY BREASTFEEDING Y’ALL.

Anyway, this interloper chick is definitely weird and shows up at Nicole Kidman’s gym (where she does rigorous foot pointing exercises and somehow tames her wig back, kind of). The chick approaches Kidman in the buff with a combination of aggressiveness and openness that makes Nicole Kidman really uncomfortable though I definitely choose to believe that she’s mainly intimidated by bitch’s non-wigged hair.

Fast forward to the school fundraiser where Nicole Kidman switches up her midweight duster coat obsession for a friggin cape IF YOU CAN EVEN and all the harpies are present in their best dresses which could all definitely be worn to the Golden Globes and somehow the interloper is there also in a gown. HOW DARE SHE! THE HARPIES ARE PISSED! So is the vile Donald Sutherland (Nicole Kidman’s dad who just HATES Hugh Grant for reasons unknown). 

But Hugh Grant leaves for a medical conference just as....dun dun dun....the interloper is murdered!!! ALSO NICOLE KIDMAN CAN’T REACH HUGH GRANT. Also he left his cellphone in a random junk drawer! I refuse to believe this magazine apartment has a junk drawer! Kidman’s wig magically stays halfway up without use of pins or elastics because that is just how horrifying this wig is! This show is so stupid!

Episode 2: The Missing

So Hugh Grant is fully on the lam and mainly NOT at that medical conference which may or may no exist but Nicole Kidman is not interested in googling it and that hot interloper remains to be murdered. Also Nicole Kidman’s wig is still a tangle of complete and utter nonsense AS IS THIS SHOW. Also this wig has two settings: dried out desert or oily sweat lodge. This episode starts on sweat lodge. Anyway, Nicole Kidman goes looking around for Hugh Grant and only finds more questions at his hospital and then goes to her job where she is kind of an ineffectual couples counselor. Also David E Kelley/Nicole Kidman prestige HBO shows I guess always require some couples counseling that is highly questionable.

ANYWAY! I forgot to mention that the lead investigator in this murder is Edgar Ramirez who is hot but also kind of shifty. He starts questioning Nicole Kidman about all kinds of crap involving Hugh Grant and then lays down some hard truths: HUGH GRANT SUCKS!!! He got fired from his hospital job curing children’s cancer after he got too close to one of his patients’ moms and DUH IT’S THE HOT INTERLOPER. Nicole Kidman has to gather a calming circle of midweight duster coats to even deal with this new development. 

I really love that Hugh Grant is basically just starring as himself in the mid 90s (REMEMBER DIVINE BROWN?) and I’m kind of here for it. Regardless, Hugh Grant is now the prime suspect in this whole mess and Nicole Kidman’s beautiful magazine apartment is now being completely pulled apart and all she can do is look at her terrifying face and touch it with her terrifying talons and pack up all her midweight duster coats and get the eff out of there. BUT TO WHERE?! 

DUH NICOLE KIDMAN OWNS A BEACH HOUSE OBVS. So she drives out there and is somehow able to braid her damn wig! HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE. THE WIG IS VERY UPSET ABOUT IT AS AM I. She and her tangled tiny braid (she has so much hair in that wig - why is the braid so small??) stare out into the ocean a lot and ignore her child. Also new coat alert and this one is PLAID!!!

And then Hugh Grant shows up and is super creepy and chokey. He tries to explain his actions and confirms his affair with hot interloper which is basically just all a plot synopsis of Fatal Attraction but says that he definitely did NOT murder her. WE SHALL SEE ABOUT THAT. Nicole Kidman calls 911 anyway. 

Episode 3: Do No Harm

OMG GUYS THIS EPISODE STARTS WITH EDGAR RAMIREZ SHOWING UP AT NICOLE KIDMAN’S BEACH HOUSE IN A HELICOPTER. How much money is the NYPD really willing to spend on Hugh Grant? All of it? Anyway, Hugh Grant ends up in jail (which is not as fabulous as his prison time in Paddington 2) and we find out that he fathered that baby the hot (murdered) interloper had and willfully breastfed in front of those harpies in episode 1. THIS SHOW IS WILD AND ALSO STUPID.

Speaking of wild and stupid, Nicole Kidman visits Hugh Grant at Rikers and we are led to believe that Rikers Island has a COAT CHECK?!?!?! Look: she shows up in one of her millions of midweight duster coats and in the visiting room she has none. ARE YOU KIDDING ME, SHOW?!?!?! THIS ALSO HAPPENS TWICE BECAUSE THEY CHECK BOTH HER AND HER SON’S COATS THE SECOND TIME WHAT.

Hugh Grant maintains his innocence and somehow Nicole Kidman’s bent ass wig is convinced and they hire a fabulous defense lawyer which the vile Donald Sutherland is none too thrilled about paying for and spends lots of quiet time at the Frick Museum about it also WTF show you’re willing to pay for the Frick and not frickin wigs. Also Nicole Kidman is confronted by the hot interloper’s husband and it does not go over well. No social interactions in this show make any sense, also.

In the end, Nicole Kidman gets ANOTHER midweight duster coat, Edgar Ramirez questions Nicole Kidman AGAIN but this time with video surveillance footage of her walking outside the hot interlopers studio...the night she was murdered and YES IN THAT DAMN CAPE. WAIT WHAT?! Also even in surveillance footage, Nicole Kidman’s wig is a mess.

Episode 4: See No Evil

This episode introduces the idea that Nicole Kidman really likes taking walks. Long walks, nighttime walks, sleepwalks? Nobody knows, especially Nicole Kidman. When asked why she was walking near the murdered interloper’s studio, Nicole Kidman just kinda shrugs and says “I take walks!” AND EVERYONE BELIEVES HER!!! WTF IS THIS SHOW. It should be noted that this long walks are taken in her usual midweight duster coats (WHICH ARE SUBTLY DIFFERENT COLORS AND FABRICS FROM OTHER MIDWEIGHT DUSTER COATS SHE OWNS) and very not sensible boots. Her walks can last between 10 minutes and 10 hours and who is to say where she even goes and who she is followed by? Maybe the interloper’s husband follows her around or maybe it’s in her head? Maybe she murdered the interloper and didn’t quite remember it? Regardless: it’s a lot of walking and it is EXHAUSTING for us all and finally Nicole Kidman just passes out in Central Park after minutes or hours of walking around and a bunch of kids form a literal calming circle around her and my eyes rolled into the reservoir.

This episode is also all about money, hunny! Nicole Kidman has a lot of it - so much that it was revealed in the last episode she didn’t even notice that a lot of it was missing from that time Hugh Grant lost his job and didn’t tell anyone for a few months except the vile Donald Sutherland who loaned him $500K AND NO ONE KNOWS WHERE THAT MONEY WENT!!!! Well I hope you kept your check book out, Donald Sutherland because now you need to pay $2 MILLION DOLLARS to get Hugh Grant out of jail. Ok? OK. ALSO DO YOU JUST OWN THE FRICK MUSEUM????

So now Hugh Grant just lives in his old magazine apartment which has somehow returned to magazine status after Edgar Ramirez and a thousand cops completely ransacked it. Also now Nicole Kidman and the son live at the vile Donald Sutherland’s house so all is...well? Well no not really because Nicole Kidman STILL HAS THAT DAMN WIG. 

AND THAT ISN’T EVEN THE MOST HORRIFYING PART OF THIS EPISODE! That came when Hugh Grant, now free from jail and left to his own devices, visits the interloper’s widow and children! WHAT IS HE DOING!! Somehow, interloper’s husband lets Hugh in and lets him hold the baby which he fathered. AND THEN HUGH REVEALS HE’S MET THIS BABY BEFORE AND OFFERS TO TAKE CARE OF IT! WHILST ON TRIAL FOR MURDER! THIS SHOW!!!!!

Episode 5: Trial by Fury

WHAT IS EVEN DONALD SUTHERLAND’S APARTMENT?!?! It has a balcony, and it seems to have a balcony cover because no one gets wet when they go out on the balcony and it’s raining. Rich people really live in a different climate zone than the rest of us garbage people. Regardless, Nicole Kidman’s frizzy wig is at PEAK FRIZZINESS on this balcony.

Anyway, the trial of the goddamned century is finally here!! And Nicole Kidman’s wig part still remains an elusive mystery. What is being kept in there? NO ONE CAN SEE ACTUAL SCALP OR ANSWERS. Another question: why did everyone bring their kids to the trial where they could see very upsetting pictures (that I didn’t even look at!) of the murdered interloper. CHILD ABUSE! ALSO! WOULD EVERY SINGLE GODDAMNED CABLE NEWS NETWORK REALLY COVER THIS CASE SO CLOSELY??? I guess it’s not an election year in this alternate reality.

Which makes this scene where the whole family dines out and no one bothers them at all the more improbable. Also completely insane? At one point, Hugh Grant just storms out of the dinner and into the bar area of the restaurant (omg remember restaurants?) and Nicole Kidman follows him there and they have a very intense conversation about family secrets literally in the entrance of a busy restaurant. WHAT REALITY IS THIS SHOW IN?!?!?! The family secret? Remember that time Nicole Kidman told their son that he couldn’t have a dog because Hugh Grant accidentally killed his family dog? IT WASN’T A DOG IT WAS HIS 4 YEAR OLD SISTER. WHAT IN THE DAMN HELL!!!!

Nicole Kidman attempts to corroborate this insane story that she has never ever heard before with Hugh Grant’s family who don’t return her calls but do facetime her out of the blue in the middle of the night. Sure! And who is Hugh Grant’s mom? TONY AWARD WINNING ACTRESS ROSEMARY GODDAMNED HARRIS. WHAT. Not only does she confirm that Hugh Grant definitely accidentally killed his sister, but he also was never ever upset by it! Sure looks like Hugh Grant is a sociopath! MMkay!

Oh and then in the final moments of this episode Nicole Kidman finds the murder weapon - a sculpting hammer - in her son’s violin case. THIS SHOW IS A FRIGGIN LUNATIC.

Episode 6 - The Bloody Truth

So at this point in this show, I have fully gone. I don’t even know what is real or fantasy at this point: all I know is that Nicole Kidman’s wig is my nightmare. ALSO! She has a new midweight duster coat and it is the absolute most outrageous - a silk embroidered number you can literally wear NOWHERE EXCEPT FOR THE MURDER TRIAL OF HUGH GRANT.

The main concern in this episode is how Nicole Kidman’s son happened to get ahold of the murder weapon. So he just found it....in the beach house fire pit?!?!?! WHAT A DUMB PLACE TO PUT A MURDER WEAPON WHEN YOU HAVE AN OCEAN INCHES AWAY TO FLING IT INTO! Even dumber: this show wants you to believe that this 12 year old kid would have the wherewithall to put this murder weapon through the dishwasher - TWICE!! Vulture and I both say NAH to that. 

Anyway, Nicole Kidman’s wig which is somehow pushed back with clips unknown spends a lot of time in a robe (or a coat? WHO KNOWS AT THIS POINT) making secret phone calls to Lily Rabe (who I am happy is back because she’s kind of the only fun part of this show). WHAT IS NICOLE KIDMAN UP TO?!?!?!

Much like Big Little Lies season 2, it all comes down to Nicole Kidman taking the stand. BORING! Hugh Grant is all but gonna win this thing and then Nicole Kidman gets up there and totally backs him up...until she is cross examined by the prosecuting attorney (WHO IS OLD PALS WITH LILY RABE) and magically knows all about Rosemarry Harris’s facetime! Now everyone knows that Hugh Grant is a child murderer and sociopath! AND HE IS PISSED!

The final sequence of this show is just far too insane to even fathom BUT basically before definitely being found guilty, Hugh Grant texts his son and they meet for breakfast but then breakfast turns into a car chase upstate! It is never explained how Nicole Kidman would allow her son out of her sight OR how Hugh Grant wouldn’t already be tailed by cops but whatever! Also not explained: how Nicole Kidman is able to issue an Amber alert for her kid and then get into a GODDAMNED HELICOPTER and follow Hugh Grant north and then land on the very bridge he’s about to jump off of but WHO CARES!! THIS WHOLE SHOW IS WHO CARES BECAUSE IT TURNS OUT HUGH GRANT WAS THE MURDERER ALL ALONG JUST LIKE WE THOUGHT IN EPISODE 1 AND EVERYTHING ELSE HAS JUST BEEN A MIDWEIGHT DUSTER COAT FASHION SHOW!!! ALSO THE WIG SUCKED! GOODBYE YOU TERRIBLE STUPID SHOW! 

Verdict: Doesn’t Wurq

[daydreams-and-shortattentionspan]

Speechless: Chapter 1

A/N: Hey guys I'm so sorry it’s been a while since I last posted! I just had a really hard time finding inspiration lately. This story was a way for me to work through so emotions I could really find words to put to them It kinda (if you REALLY squint) deals with mental illness. It in no way romanticizes it but more so normalizes it and normalizes talking about it and talking your way out of a dark place if you can. I really hope you guys enjoy it!

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Black!Reader

Warnings: None(? If there is something you want to be tagged in this let me know and I’ll fix it right away!)

Word Count: 2k

Chapter 2

________________________________________________________

You never wanted to be a bother to anyone, so a lot of times you kept your emotions to yourself. You were more of a ‘team therapist’ without the degree. Not that you minded being a confidant to the team; you were definitely able to keep a secret, a really good listener, and tried to give some sound advice when asked. You always tried to make everyone else feel better when they were feeling down or calming someone down when they were on a warpath (mainly stopping Sam from killing Bucky for some prank he pulled). All that was good and dandy, but sometimes you needed to talk things out and have someone just listen to you for once. That’s where Steve comes in. He was your go to person whenever you could feel one of your sad episodes coming on, or it was like he could sense you starting to shut down internally. He was the one to distract you from the invading thoughts of self doubt and internal bullying. You never really knew the cause of these sad episodes but they were always there and you had no way of stopping them.

This episode felt like it was going to be one of the extremely bad ones and you could practically hear the Windows shut down chime playing in your brain, but Steve was out on a mission at the moment when you needed him most. Again, not complaining, obviously the safety of everyone else is more important than one of your little mental pity parties, but you needed to try and get through your emotions before some small inconvenience had you becoming a big crying mess.

To avoid that inevitable minor inconvenience that would lead to your public break down, you texted Tony telling him you were feeling under the weather and weren’t coming in today. He said that it was fine and that he (along with everyone else) would miss you and hoped you’d get better soon. You turned your phone off completely and just tossed it on some random place at the foot of your bed -not wanting the reminder that everyone was happier than you-, turned on your TV and put on a movie that would no doubtedly put you in a worse mood than before. You snuggled deeper into your blankets and started your endless sadness fest.

~~~

Steve had arrived a day early due to the mission being easier than expected. He had stepped off the quinjet looking for you and possibly bracing himself to catch you in a tight embrace, but instead was met with Maria giving a quick mission debriefing. Usually he would have been engaged in the conversation but he was so focused on finding you that he hadn’t heard a word Maria had said.

After half-ass listening to Maria, Steve had begun his quest in search for you. He started off with the training room, expecting to see you on the treadmill as usual trying to beat your mile run time, hair thrown up in a high puff bouncing with every step you take, eyebrows slightly furrowed from concentration; he always admired your commitment. Instead, he was met with Bucky and Sam wrestling on the floor, shoulders slouching slightly in disappointment.

“Have you seen (Y/N)?” mind too preoccupied to worry about their latest friendly squabble. They both shook their heads no and went back to fighting.

He decided the next place he should check was the lab; you were always trying to learn something new from Bruce or Tony and oftentimes you were a helpful extra set of eyes, hands, or a new brain to pick. You liked to say that you majored in Chemistry and minored in kicking ass. Steve had a fond smile on his face as he walked, remembering the way you giggled through saying that. When he had made it to the lab he was met with Bruce muttering to himself, most likely about whatever he was working on.

“Have you seen (Y/N)?” he asked while looking around, expecting you to come out of some back room with something for Bruce, or walking out with Tony talking about whatever he was working on. Something, anything, he just needed to see you.

“Uh… No, I haven’t. Did you try the training room?” Bruce asked in return, to which Steve shook his head no.

“Have you tried the kitchen?” Steve had mentally smacked his palm on his forehead for not thinking about the kitchen. He was already out the door without saying a word.

This should have been one of the first places he should have checked, you always loved to bake whenever you had a free day at the tower to take advantage of the ‘fancy schmancy’ state of the art kitchen as you so eloquently put it. He loved watching you bake, you always put your music that he always found so calming along with the view of you making your way around the kitchen, you always looked so carefree and happy when you were there singing and dancing and stirring up ingredients, he always thought you made such simple things look like art. He was down the hall from the kitchen and heard rustling in the fridge, but no music. He had turned the corner only to find Tony eating grapes and grabbing a water. Tony had tossed a grape into the air and caught it in his mouth, grinning to himself in cocky satisfaction. Steve had taken out his phone and decided to call you, only to hear the sound of your voicemail instantly. He sighed in defeat, all he wanted to do was see you after this mission but there was also a growing concern in his mind. With one last chance of hope he turned to Tony as he was scrolling through some hologram for whatever he was working on.

“Tony, have you seen (Y/N)?”

“Not here today. Texted me saying she’s not coming in because she was feeling ‘under the weather’” Tony had replied nonchalantly, not looking up from his hologram. Steve furrowed his brow; you never texted if you were sick, you always called, and you never said feeling ‘under the weather’ he knew how theatrical you were when you weren’t feeling well and always had to say you were so close to death. He walked towards the elevator and headed towards the garage. He immediately hopped on his motorcycle and only had one destination on his mind.

~~~

As you predicted, you spent all day in bed, only getting up for the occasional snack and bathroom break. You watched all the ones that lowered your spirits and brought them back up to still sad state but not as sad as before, Waiting to Exhale, Poetic Justice, Higher Learning. Now you were watching Cinderella with Brandy and Whitney Houston hoping this might be the one to bring you out of your funk but all signs were pointing to no at this moment. Most of the time, intrusive thoughts filled your mind taking your attention away from the films.

‘No one probably is even missing me right now.’

‘They’re probably happy I didn’t show up.’

‘No one even likes me there.’

‘They probably don’t even think of me as a friend

“They only talk to me out of pity.’

‘I’m such a waste of space there’

‘Why do I even bother?’

The sound of a motorcycle passing your apartment muted the thoughts for a moment and caused butterflies to erupt in your stomach making yourself believe it was your own prince charming Steve coming to your apartment to get you out of this endless, black pit that was your emotions. Your mood began to sour even more if that were even possible, you knew if you were to check out your window you'd be in for a let down so big; you didn’t even want to know how much more deeper you’d go into your sadness.

~~~

Steve saw your bedroom window was open, indicating that you were in fact home. He parked and made his way to your apartment, not even buzzing your apartment for you to let him up because he already had a key and the code to get in. You had given those things to him a few months back -and every time they changed the code- so he could water your plants while you were out on a mission. He had arrived at your door and knocked announcing his presence to you before using his key to enter.

~~~

You shot up at the sound of someone knocking on your door followed by the sound of someone messing with the locks. Your bedroom was wide open and faced the front door and the only distance between the two doors was your living area, so you had a moment  to think of what to do but also had to think fast. Instantly, you reached for the gun in your nightstand drawer. You might not have been in the right headspace and you weren’t exactly happy about your life at the moment but you’d be damned if you were going to let some dumbass try to take it from you. The door opened slowly and in popped Steve’s head, you instantly had let your guard down and stopped reaching for your weapon, Looking straight at you he looked to have breathed a sigh of relief and made his way straight to the side of your bed and sat down, grabbing your arm and pulling you in a tight embrace. This small act was pushing you closer to the edge of opening the floodgates that had been slowly building behind your eyes.

“I was so worried about you,” Steve had sighed, still holding you close, this caused the tears to flow with no end in sight. All the pent up feelings you had been holding were finally free, not just sadness but anger and happiness too. You just needed to release everything and Steve was the only person you felt safe and comfortable with doing so.

~~~

Steve could feel that this is what you need, he didn’t even have to say a word. He just knew that this is what you needed: to be held and to be listened to because that’s all you ever wanted at times like this. He was there to relieve the burden he knew was weighing down your heart.

~~~

After a few more moments of crying, you began putting yourself back together, wiping your nose and face, taking a few deep breaths and just overall calming down. When you had felt slightly better, Steve had given you a look; a look you had grown so accustomed to. Whether you two were standing at opposite ends of a room, or next to each other in a debriefing, it was always the same, it always said ‘are you okay?’ You simply shook your head no, this was followed by a look that said ‘do you wanna take about it?’ You shook your head again -losing all desire to speak at all-, he always took this as a sign to just be closer to you, to give you a sense of comfort. So he took off his shoes, jacket and pants and got under the blankets with you and just held you while you continued watching your movies. The more time you spent together, the more you could feel your spirits lift at a slow pace almost like your mental batteries were on a charger. At random moments during the movies, you’d bring up something that bothered you while he was gone, venting slowly and lifting the weight that had stayed heavily on your shoulders when he was away. You could feel yourself going back to ‘normal’, whatever normal was anyway. You felt whole again, almost new. You don’t know what you’d do without Steve, and you never wanted to imagine what life would be like without him. You snuggled deeper into the blankets with him and began to memorize all your favorite parts of him. You wondered if he ever did the same thing when it came to you.

____________________________________

Taglist: @disaster-rose​ @oceanscorazon​ @snazzyjazzytrash​

[magnusbanewastaken]

ONE NIGHT AT MR. DRY'S

SUMMARY: Nothing ever happens on Wednesday. Well, there was always something happening, especially in New York, but those ‘somethings’ barely amount to anything worthwhile. Like cogs and sprockets within an automaton, everyone and everything just simply are, evermoving and existing in uninspiring mundaneity, especially on Wednesdays.

RATING: G

CHARACTER/S: Magnus Bane

also @ ao3

Nothing ever happens on Wednesday. Well, there was always something happening, especially in New York, but those ‘somethings’ barely amount to anything worthwhile. Like cogs and sprockets within an automaton, everyone and everything just simply are, evermoving and existing in uninspiring mundaneity, especially on Wednesdays.

What was typically a place of raucous revelry and evenings filled with unbridled guilt, Mr. Dry's would sing a different tune that night. Despite the speakeasy only occupying a small space hidden behind a wig shop, enough for about twenty or thirty people moving and bumping into each other at a time, having it be occupied by no more than ten patrons almost makes it seem as spacious as the Plaza Hotel lobby. Most of the space was reserved for the dance floor and the stage, but there were no patrons wearing out the surface of the dance floor tonight. The band wasn't there either, save for the pianist playing a soulful, delicate tune to match the serene ambience of Mr. Dry's.

Connor Brannigan was a pale man with a long, severe face, and a mess of auburn hair like the autumn foliage in Central Park. He wore a lose-fitting dark grey three-piece suit and an untied bowtie hanging around his neck. He looked to be in his thirties but he was actually just in his early twenties and he had his stern and serious visage to blame for that. He was a difficult man to read at first glance but his eyes and hands, both gentle and passionate, would tell you a different story. He could play the liveliest upbeat melodies with the rest of his band on the weekends, one might even catch a glimpse of a smile on his face too, but it was on slow days like these when he preferred to play the most. He was practically playing for an empty room, but the pianist's demeanor and focus was the same as he would have any other night. Though he seemed to be quite a daunting person at first, he was not exactly a difficult man to connect with. Like any other man, he reacts quite well with the right kind of drink.

Behind the marble bar in the far side of Mr. Dry's stood its proprietor and only barman for tonight, Magnus Bane. He appeared to be quite the respectable young man with his perfectly coiffed hair, sharp bright eyes, and prepossessing smile, though no one would imagine someone who looked as young as he was would own the joint. He was wearing a gothic-style, midnight blue waistcoat over a white dress shirt that's unbuttoned just enough to expose his bare chest. The sleeves were rolled up to this elbows so it wouldn't restrict his movements as he mixed drinks. He filled in the shaker in his hands with ice then poured in some whiskey and a chilled, strong brew of earl grey tea. He capped off the open end of a shaker and shook it so that it all blends well together as he hummed along to the tune that Connor was playing. He poured out the light rusty brown liquid into a glass pint then topped it off with ginger ale and stirred it before setting it on a tray. He filled up another glass with just water and let it sit next to his cocktail concoction before putting up the countertop to get to the other side of the counter. He skillfully picked up the tray with one hand then made his way towards the stage.

“Your drink, sir,” Magnus called out with his most charming smile as he approached the pianist, setting his drinks on the coasters placed atop the piano. Connor turned his head to face him without interrupting his playing.

“Thanks, Boss,” he smiled and nodded at him in acknowledgement.

He kept playing, even with one hand, as he took a swig off the drink, inhaling the spicy scent of the whiskey cocktail. Magnus called it The Piano Man in his head since the colour reminded him of the pianist's red hair and the taste of his fiery yet firm passion when playing. Magnus hasn't exactly been a fan of redheads before or green eyes, but people who had a penchant for music and the arts in general have appealed to him. There was just something about the way they made him feel safe and loved even without saying a word. It's a shame what happened to his fiancée, but even after five years he has never taken his ring off. Magnus admired him for that.

As soon as Connor set down his empty glass and went back to playing with both hands, he smoothly segued into a slightly more upbeat and soulful tune compared to the slow and serene one he had been playing. The pianist's expression subtly lit up which made Magnus perk up a bit as well. No one was sitting by the bar right then as the few people in attendance were satisfied with the bottles of beer they had on the tables, so Magnus thought to stay with Connor for a moment. They didn't speak, if one could believe Magnus capable of not speaking for more than a minute, but he was more than satisfied with just listening to Connor play.

“Magnus Bane!” came a voice that echoed throughout the room. Magnus recognized it but did not want to hear it at all, not when it was one of the few quiet nights of respite he had at Mr. Dry's. Connor seemed to know who it was too as he simply said, “Good luck,” and punctuated it with a light chuckle.

After getting a pat down from the doorman, the young man who called out to Magnus followed him back to the bar area. He looked to be barely even legal to drink but he was very clearly made of money and people like him normally think they were above the law. His name was George Vanderbluff and was the shining example of the privileged. He had blonde hair combed neatly, parting towards the right. He also had bright, ocean blue eyes which Magnus would normally be enthralled by, but on other people, not George. He was wearing a loud, yellow, patterned full suit lined with jewels at the lapel and a vest to match but he did not wear any dress shirt underneath. He was adorned in fine gold jewelry around his neck and his hands and wrist and just generally stuck out like a sore thumb. If Magnus was going to be honest, he thought the young man was looking quite tacky even for him who, on special occasions, liked to be adorned in all things glittering and sparkling.

“Magnus, my friend, I see business is slow these days,” he spoke in an annoying, nasally voice with a terrible imitation of a Trans-Atlantic accent. Or at least that's how it sounded like to Magnus.

“It's a Wednesday, George, unlike you some people have jobs to busy themselves with,” Magnus replied as he returned to his post behind the counter.

“You wound me, Magnus, is this how you treat your customers?”

“Not normally, no, only with you.”

“I feel special.”

Magnus really disliked George. Not so much as loathing him but he did feel like he was a massive nuisance. He didn't like the way George would treat him. He was trying to be nice to Magnus which wouldn't normally be bad but not when George, just like any other bored elite out there, was currently into foreign exotic cultures. And Magnus being the closest “foreign exotic person” he could find, meant that George was very much interested in him. Despite all that, Magnus was in no position to have him be blacklisted lest he wanted to risk Little Georgie to run and tell daddy—who was quite close with a certain Officer McMantry—about Magnus's little speakeasy. And so he had to endure a little inconvenience, hoping George tires of his fleeting flights of fancy in the exotics soon.

“Will you be drinking or do you plan on wasting both of our time?” Magnus asked, his arms folded across his chest.

“Easy there, Mags, be nice,” said George as he leaned against the edge of the marble bar. “I brought the friend I mentioned before here tonight, see?”

True enough, he did bring someone along with him. Magnus completely missed him on account of his attention and ire have been directed towards George. Unlike him, this new person was dressed simply and sensibly in a white dress shirt and red tie underneath a brown blazer that was a little bit tattered around the edges, and he also wore black slacks and shoes. Thomas Wagner, George said his name was and he had chestnut brown hair, a lovely set of hazel eyes behind his square, thick-framed glasses, and an apparent burnt scarring on his neck and jaw, something Magnus wouldn't want to ask about, or until the third or fourth drink perhaps. Why a seemingly-ordinary young man was friends with George was beyond Magnus.

“Pleased to meet you,” Thomas smiled stiffly as he shook hands with Magnus. His grip was just as stiff as his smile and he felt a bit jittery, like he was nervous or something. It took Thomas a couple of seconds too long before he broke away from the handshake. Perhaps he really was nervous, Magnus thought, but for what, he didn't know.

“Give me the usual, Magnus, and one of your very best for my cousin.”

Magnus rolled his eyes shut immediately got to work. The sooner George gets his fill, the sooner he might stop talking to him. George's ‘usual’ drink was called The Prick's Drink in Magnus's mind, because he was of course a massive prick.

“George told me all about this fun operation you got here,” said Thomas.

“You do know that the main point of this ‘fun operation’ is secrecy?” Magnus was looking at George as he started mixing together equal parts of vodka and rum in a glass jar then followed it with a hefty amount of squeezed lemonade they had in stock.

“Oh, you don't have to worry about me, sir, I haven't any friends to tattle things to,” Thomas smiled. “That sounded less pathetic in my head.”

“And that's why I brought my dear cousin here to check out the place before throwing him here 'round the weekend. Fancy schmancy scientists like him ought to be going out more,” George spoke, but Magnus was barely listening, he was filling the jar with ice until it reached its neck before capping it off tightly to shake it and mix the contents until it looked frothy.

“So you're a scientist?” Magnus asked as he uncapped the jar and poured in the icy, frothy, yellow liquid into a glass goblet, and garnished it with a couple of mint leaves before sliding the glass towards George.

“A physicist, yes,” Thomas began and then he continued talking about the kind of work he did.

George laughed and looked at Magnus symapthetically thinking that he might get bored with Thomas's talk of quantum mechanics and equations but he was not. He very much preferred that than listening to another word coming out of George. Magnus would even throw in questions which the physicist was very much excited to answer. Suddenly, he felt grateful for actually listening to Ragnor and his Royal Society friends over coffee all those years ago.

Thomas did a lot of talking but unlike George, Thomas was actually quite pleasant to talk to. He even told him about how he got his scar from an experiment that went awry back in his university days. He was also genuinely interested in what Magnus was doing as he watched him fix him his drink which involved mixing together moonshine, spiced rum, and lime juice in a shaker. Thomas was amused when he saw Magnus also put in a couple of dashes of Tabasco sauce in there as well as honey. He didn't think any of that fit with alcohol but Magnus was more than happy to explain his methods. George would sometimes throw in a few quips here and there but they would remain largely ignored. After some vigorous shaking, Magnus poured in the lime green liquid in a pint glass until it was all in. He picked up the glass and put it under one of the taps behind the bar and filled the rest with a clear, carbonated lemon-lime liquid of Magnus's own making.

“Here you go,” Magnus spoke brightly as he set down the pint glass back to the surface of the marble bar then gave it a little stir before pushing it towards Thomas.

Magnus watched him expectantly as he gulped down from his pint, hoping that the physicist would react well to it. As he drank, his eyes widened and when he set the glass back down a smile formed on his face.

“This is really good,” said Thomas. “It's sweet but I feel it pack a punch and—woah, I think my head just throbbed a bit.”

“Let's call it The Quantum Punch then,” Magnus smiled.

The three of them talked more a bit afterwards, with George finally sounding a lot more tolerable now that he had a drink. By then some of the patrons who had been there on separate tables have started to leave, a few times calling out to Magnus just before they go and he would tell them that he'd be expecting them in a couple of days. Even Connor followed soon after and went home. Not long after that, George already had too much to drink. Thomas held on just fine though and they had the same amount and kind of cocktails to drink.

“We should get going,” Thomas said.

“Good, I can't stand your cousin anymore, and it looks like he physically can't stand anymore either,” said Magnus, looking at George, knocked out and slumped over the counter yet still somehow standing. As soon as he said it he almost regretted it not for George's sake but because he thought he might have offended Thomas. But Thomas just laughed and said,

“Sometimes I can't stand him either, but it's just the money talking, he's a good kid.”

He helped George out from literally slumping over the counter and flung his cousin's arm around his neck as he carried his weight beside him. George still had the sense to walk, or more accurately wobble, next to his cousin.

“See you around, Magnus!” Thomas called out without looking back. He faintly heard him say, “Morning, ma'am,” too and when he looked up from cleaning up the glassware there he saw a woman making her way towards the marble bar sporting a nurse's uniform, a black coat over her white dress uniform and a nurse cap still pinned to her hair.

“That funny looking blonde, was that your admirer?” she asked as soon as she reached the bar and leaned forward and rested her arms over the countertop. She wasn't blue—the literal shade of blue—today as Magnus had observed. She had skin of dark brown and instead of her silvery white hair, her hair was as black as a raven. That was her go to look when under a glamour for the mundanes.

“My greatest nuisance, yes,” Magnus replied as he took out a couple of fresh old fashioned glasswares and set it aside. “But he was kind of alright today, his cousin Thomas was quite nice.”

“Do you like him?” she asked as she unpinned the cap from her head, letting loose her raven hair, flowing like the invisible currents hidden deep in the ocean. Magnus was gathering half-and-half, condensed milk, instant coffee, chocolate syrup, and vanilla at the same time.

“I don't like every well-mannered pretty boy I see, Catarina,” he said as he began pouring in the ingredients he just gathered into an electric blender, mixing them at low speed for half a minute.

“No, but you'd think they're the bee's knees,” Catarina teased. Her elbows were perched on the counter and her hands joined together underneath her chin as she grinned knowingly at Magnus.

“Well, he was,” he replied as he filled the two glasswares he set aside earlier with ice. “How are things at St. Mary's?”

“Where do I even begin,” said Catarina then let out a heavy sigh of exhaustion before she got started on her story.

It wasn't an easy job being a nurse at a children's hospital, even more so when you were one of the few ‘coloured people’ working there since a lot of children of colour going in there don't get the same treatment and care as the white children. Helping those kids was one of the main reasons why Catarina decided to have her glamour be of someone who was a person of colour. She was already technically coloured originally and while her warlock mark wasn't specifically her point of prejudice, she was still someone who can sympathize with those mundanes, especially the children, who would experience a lot worse.

As Magnus was listening to her, he started pouring about an ounce of black coffee liqueur in each glass then filled the rest with sarsaparilla. He then topped off both glass with the crème liqueur he concocted in the mixer. He called this one The Graveyard Shift. He listened on to her as she recounted how her day went all while drinking with her. He would refill it every now and then with the black coffee liqueur and crème liqueur until the very last drop, most of which were served to Catarina since between the two of them, she was the one who needed to relax and let out her weariness.

Before the sun rose, it was finally time to close up shop. Catarina helped Magnus with cleaning up, both sneakily using their magic under the doorman's nose as they did. As soon as they were done, they all came out of the wig shop, which would be open for normal business in a few hours, and parted ways to go home.

Wednesday didn't turn out to be as uneventful as Magnus had originally thought, perhaps he was wrong in thinking that nothing ever happened on Wednesdays. It would seem that Thursday should be the one to take that crown, as he had experienced after opening up Mr. Dry's the next night. He couldn't hardly wait for Friday, he thought, that's when the fun begins and that's when Magnus—and the rest of his weary-hearted, wayward patrons—would begin to shine and live, there in the mundane world's own brand of Downworld.

[katcadecascade]

A Late Atlas Ball prompt fic

Title: They Dance Across the Darling Rooftop Wreck

Summary: An Atlas ball isn't something Qrow is prepared for. He wants to go to spend time with his kids and Clover, really he does.It's just that none of his wardrobe is fancy-schmancy due to the fact all his shirts have an opening cut in the back.Cause yah know, wings and all that jazz.

Ao3

Chapter One: everything you do

When James announced that they’ll have a ball to celebrate the Amity satellite’s completion, Qrow honestly thought he was joking. But no, good old Jimmy doesn’t joke about coordinated events at Atlas’ elite standards.

The kids’ high enthusiasm and giddiness is expected, immediately making plans to get new outfits but Qrow can’t quite share their feelings.

He’s a bit of a mess of anxiety as he tries to move away from his kids’ happiness filling up their lounge and media room. The furthest couch seemed like the best place for Qrow to just huddle into his wings and quietly sip his tea, wallow in a festering scramble of thoughts believing that this dance will be terrible idea for him.

Before more misery could snatch his will, the couch’s weight dipped as Clover sits next to him.

“Hey,” he begins gently, “I don’t think your tea’s doing its job right. May I?”

Already he reads Qrow too well, something that Qrow actually appreciates. Qrow sets his mug on the side table and scoots closer to his boyfriend, arranging his large wings carefully. Much to his embarrassment, Clover ends up wrapping his muscly arms around Qrow’s small waist to bring him into his lap.

After a bit of shifting to get comfortable, Qrow leans his head against Clover’s face.

“What’s wrong, baby bird?”

“I don’t really do dances or balls,” he admits.

Sure there were a few Beacon dances but back then his wings were smaller, easier to manage under his cape but unfortunately these feathery appendages decided to get bigger. It was hard enough to constantly alter his shirts to have a gap for his wing bones back then.

His huntsman outfits were always specially tailored to protect his back while also leaving an opening for his wings. Yet that detail is also prioritized for the sake of him being in the field. Off missions, it was always up to Qrow to patch up casual shirts or go bare.

Since this is Solitas, the second option isn’t recommended. Well only for Clover in their bedroom but aside from that Qrow’s been wearing shirts where the buttons line up his back. It’s simple and practical but not at all the standard for a ballroom.

So it’s understandable that Qrow does not own any sort of fancy ass outfit that takes account of his faunus traits.

Black feathers ruffle at the thought, basically projecting the root of his issues to Clover.

“Dances can be lame,” Clover assured. His warm hands soothing Qrow’s lower back. “Don’t tell James but the last party he hosted wasn’t too smooth.”

“Then it’s a good thing that Weiss and Winter are in charge,” he mumbled, letting himself relax into Clover. His wings fold inwards, reminding Qrow of what’s been clouding his mind. “I don’t really have anything to wear compared to whatever they got.”

One of Clover’s hands travels up to trace at Qrow’s jaw, “You don’t have to force yourself to go.”

“I know but,” his eyes flicker over to the kids and their commotion, “I want to be there with them. It would be nice right?”

His hesitation rang out with the tiny budding hope inside of him. For years he missed out on Ruby’s and Yang’s childhood for missions or hangovers. Now with a few months of sobriety under his belt, Qrow has a better conscious to make efforts in spending time with his family.

He prefers video game nights or cooking lessons over ballroom dances but still, it sounds like a good time.

“It will be,” Clover promises, “and maybe I can even sweep you off your feet.”

Qrow flicks Clover’ ear and tried not to scoff or laugh, “In your dreams, lucky charm.”

That only makes Clover hold onto Qrow tighter, brushing his fingers through his dark hair, “Too late, you’ve already stepped out of my dreams and into my life. No way am I letting you go.”

The way Clover trails kisses down Qrow’s neck sends his feather fluffing uncontrollably.

“Sap,” he huffed before digging his hands underneath Clover’s shirt, wandering his nails across the taunt skin.

Right as Qrow kissed the crown of soft brown hair, one of his kids shout, “Really? Right in front of my salad?”

“Nora, this is my salad.”

Nora rephrases, “Really? Right in front of Blake’s salad?”

“Alright we get it,” Clover got a secure grip on Qrow’s back and his thigh before he stood up.

Qrow had to loop his arms around Clover’s neck and warp his legs around the torso too. “Geeze, give me a warning, Cloves.”

His wings flapped once to regain balance but Clover had practice on picking up Qrow by now.

Clover winked, “I told you, Qrow, I wanted to sweep you off your feet.” As he carefully walks them out, Clover whispers to his ear, “I also look forward to dancing with you too.”

Dancing, right, that’s something that happens in a ballroom.

Oh gods, what has Qrow signed up for?

That night he decides to procrastinate on thinking on solutions or dwelling on failure. Clover is a helpful distraction, the best by how tenderly he holds Qrow, how intense his lips and devoted words are. It’s all something Qrow never thought he’d ever want, passion without consequences, commitment without pity.

It’s just Qrow and Clover and he will do whatever he can to keep each other.

And that includes going to some dance.  

He still doesn’t have a plan on what to wear so Qrow doesn’t know what to think when Marrow shows up at his door later in the week and announces, “Come on Qrow, we’re going shopping.”

There was no time to argue because Marrow was giving him puppy dog eyes.

It wasn’t as effective as Ruby’s but the results were the same. Qrow was helpless against bright eyed kiddos.

Marrow takes them down the humble business streets of midtown Mantle. The entire place has been newly constructed after the Grimm invasions that preluded the elections.

Long story short and one corrupted elitist CEO arrested later, Robyn got her council seat and finally got a real talk with James to truly fix the issues between Mantle and Atlas. Sure there’s still a shit ton of problems that can’t be solved in a few days but apparently this ball is to celebrate the achievements so far.

Qrow still can’t imagine Robyn agreeing to this. Flaunting money doesn’t seem like her style. Then again, it’s a party where the doors of Atlas academy are open to everyone in Atlas and Mantle. Maybe this is more than a dance, a peace offering or proof that things are changing here for the better.

Perhaps Qrow’s issues are minor to it all, that his silly worries are nothing to the whole political agenda or whatever.

“Are you okay?” He snaps his faraway attention off of the sidewalk to Marrow. The younger man gives him a nostalgic smile, “Your wings are drooping.”

Just like with Marrow, Qrow’s faunus traits would often emote what he’s really feeling. He quickly flexes his shoulder blades, fixing the wings back up.

“I’m just…” Qrow doesn’t want to admit something so blatantly obvious but he has to ask, “This ball is going to be a big deal, isn’t it?”

Marrow blinks at Qrow like he’s dumb, “Well duh, everyone wants it to be real.”

Now that wording makes Qrow even more confuse, “Be real?”

“Yeah,” he nods, “We all need something big and finite to finally get that this is really happening.”

“Okay, so this dance is big and finite.”

Marrow rolls his eyes, “Atlas loves a good party.”

“You’re right about that.”

The dog faunus huffed, “It was the best way to supplicate the masses, yah know?” Something serious and thoughtful eludes from Marrow, his past sarcasm or immaturity gone as he says, “Smile big for the cameras, really show off that things are alright now and that we won’t fall apart because we are finally in a better place than ever before.”

Qrow’s lack of response makes the silence deflate whatever energy Marrow had just now. He buries his face in his scarf out of embarrassment for venting.

“Wow kid,” Qrow manages to say, “You’re right.”

A smile peeks out of the brown scarf, “I know.”

“Were you always so…”

“Sage like? Wise? Academic?” All suggestions and baits for his ego by the looks of his wagging tail.

“I was going to say worried,” Qrow shrugged, “but yeah, all those things too.”

Marrow scratched his neck, “I try not to worry too much but it comes with this life doesn’t it?”

He’s not talking about his career, Qrow instantly knows.

Life as a faunus in a high end society is nothing to brag or shrug about. Qrow only got his popularity through his huntsman skill and even his teaching job if that’s not hard to believe. But that was in Beacon where Qrow had his sister and friends and even Ozpin.

Here in both Atlas and Mantle, it must have been a wild story for Marrow to become an Ace Operative. Constantly observed in and out of the uniform and with a faunus trait he can’t hide, Marrow must have dealt with a lot of scrutiny in his years.

Unintentionally or not, Qrow walked Marrow’s pace and brushed his wing against Marrow’s back. Where words fail him, he hopes that this gesture would be a comfort.

Marrow sends him a wryly grin, far too similar to Clover’s. “Huh, you do have your cute, touching moments.”

A wing flap aimed at Marrow’s head.

“Hey!”

“Oops.”

“Ugh, whatever,” Marrow waves off, “We’re here.”

They stopped at a store front decorated with reds, whites, and greens. On the glass windows reads the shop’s name, Northern Hyrule Designs and Seamstress.

Upon entering with the door’s little bell, Qrow tries not to groan at the sight of a fancy dress and suit shop. One side has racks of dresses, the other suits, the back is an entrance way leading to the dressing rooms where Qrow sees a three paneled mirror in the back. But smacked dap in the middle of the shop is a raised circle platform he hopes he doesn’t end up modeling on.

So far there’s only one employee in attendant or behind a door labeled for the staff.

“Hello, welcome!” A woman behind the front register greets them. She waves a clawed hand, sharp black talons matching the feathers blanketing her forearm. Near her elbow, the feathers have an orange hue.

“Hi Pito,” Marrow greeted and then whipped his head around the room searchingly, “Is Maddie here?”

As if summoned, a blur of pink and black jumps out of a circular clothing rack to latch onto Marrow’s leg, tugging at his winter coat.

“Mar!” A little girl chirped, her shiny grey beak nuzzles against the young man’s knee.

“Hey, Maddie,” he pats her brown hair, careful for the pink bow framing her face. It’s pretty cute how it matches her dress. “You dressed up for a party?”

“No, felt like being pretty in pink,” she trills and easily slides her hands into Marrow’s big ones. The kid has no personal space as she stands on his boots to physically walk her over to Pito.

The woman has a loving and aspirating look that only a parent has, something too relatable to Qrow, as she claps her talons, “Madeleine, you can’t tackle all of our clients.”

Maddie’s shoulders slumped, “Okay Mama.” She then peers up to Qrow and shouts, “Uncle!”

An undignified squawk betrays his composure while Marrow laughs sharply.

“Hah,” Pito smiles reassuringly, “my brother also has wings, greyer but that doesn’t stop Madeleine now does it?”

“Uncle,” she insists again, moving over with grabby hands but her mother guides her off that path, likely used to this habit.

“Maddie, sometimes you can’t surprise someone with a hug,” Pito lectured. She turns to Qrow with an offered claw, “Hi, I’m Pitohui and this is my daughter, Madeleine.”

“I’m Qrow,” he shakes her hand, “so, um, I’m guessing Marrow brought me here for your expertise?”

Qrow glanced over to some of the models at the window, noticing all had a defining faunus trait and wore a classy outfit.

The seamstress begins to explain, “I design and make alternations for outfits according to any faunus’ needs. Personally half of my business profits from my brother’s vanity but I make it a goal to make every faunus in Mantle feel as glamorous as any other Atlesian.”

“That’s a nice goal.”

Madeleine exclaims, “My goal is to sing like my uncle!” She looks to Qrow expectedly, batting her eyelashes.

Geeze, too many kids are good at melting his heart.

Qrow quirks a smile, “I’m sure you’ll be the best singer in Atlas.”

“I’m telling Weiss you said that,” Marrow teased.

“She won’t believe you.”

“So,” Pito cuts in, as a parental authority tends to do before two idiots start bicker, “what are you both looking for?”

“We’re here to get some new suits,” Marrow answered, already sliding hangers on their racks to examine the suits.

“Speak for yourself,” Qrow said, “I think a dress would be better for me.”

The younger man stared at him for a few seconds before confirming, “You’re not joking.”

“Nope.”

“In that case,” Pito has a kind smile as she leads Qrow to a rack of dresses, “let’s get started.”

They spend a good while looking around. Qrow would occasionally look at the suits but truly a dress is more to his preferences. Marrow sticks to the suits but sometimes Qrow would catch him peeking over to the prettiness of the skirts.

Eventually it occurs to Qrow that some of these clothes are pricy. Right, this is a business aimed towards fancy events.

“How are we paying for this?” He asks and ties to do math in his head regarding his paychecks.

“Oh right, the General saw me this morning,” Marrow reaches into his coat and hands Qrow an envelope. “This is for you.”

Flipping it open, what falls into his hand is a credit card under James’ name.

Huh, he could get used to getting spoiled with money but right now he’s not. Qrow was never a big spender, only got the bare necessities since he had to travel light. The tiny card feels too golden and clean to be in his hands.

“Don’t worry,” Pito winks at him, “I’ll give you a family discount.”

“Uncle!” Agreed Madeleine.

The little bird girl has an armful of suits and takes Marrow’s hand to pull him to the dressing rooms. That just leaves him and Pito to talk shop.

It’s kind of obvious that whatever Qrow’s going to wear it’s gonna be backless.

Cause yah know, wings and that jazz.

Plus, Qrow looks good in a backless dress.

He tries on a few different styles, from gown-like to modern. Because of he’s seeking professional help Pito had him on the raised platform and rolled over a full body mirror.

With each dress, Qrow gets more and more comfortable to seeing his reflection.

If clothes make the person then Qrow is practically ethereal and awing even to his own eyes. The skirts he wore in Beacon are child’s play compared to Pitohui’s designs. Each one is soothing to the touch, quickly adjusted for his wings and all are beautiful in their own right.

This current dress in particular is a bright shade of red that goes more into Ruby’s palette than Qrow’s but all over there are black threads weaving in looping designs into the fabric.

The collar is snug against his neck, thankfully not itchy like he hoped. The material is soft to the touch, connected to the collar and it dips over his chest in a pentagon-like shape. It wraps around his back to tie a large ribbon underneath the base of his wings. As for the skirt part, it’s a slanted cut to show off his left leg thigh and its ends nearly touch the floor.

Half of his mind is wondering what’s gonna be Clover’s reaction. Likely praises and kisses. Okay now more than half of his mind is thinking about that.

Qrow is unintentionally successful at making his cheeks match the dress.

“Ooh,” Pito cooed, “I take it that this is the one?”

He finds himself nodding before a chance to reconsider but he doesn’t dare to have second thoughts.

“Well,” he ends up saying, holding up the tail end the dress, “Can you shorten this part? I don’t want to risk tripping over it.”

“No problem.”

Marrow exits a dressing stall, a flattering blue suit vest emphases his waistline but he keeps fixing the rolled sleeves of the white undercoat.

He hums an impressed tune to the bird, “Wow, I honestly didn’t think you’d look good in a dress. I just never thought it would work.”

“What kind of teacher would I be if I didn’t make you learn new things,” Qrow said. He studied his figure in the mirror as Pito worked with a measuring tape for the skirt.

The red dress shows off his silhouette, curves and dips in a smooth wave that he vaguely acknowledged with his regular clothes. His muscles add to his features, a strong contrast that brings a depth of both beauty and power in him.

His wings flair out and he can’t help but shift around, see the different angles on how the large things work with the dress. Everything looks too good to be true, elegant even or graceful. Qrow spent years not caring too much on his appearance, just shucked on whatever shirt he could around his wings. Now in this dress, it feels more than okay around his wings because it was literally made with people like him in mind.

It’s kind of refreshing to dress up like this.

Marrow’s curious gaze gets Qrow thinking out loud, “Wait, did the others not tell you about when Jaune wore a dress?”

Blinking, Marrow asked, “He did what?”

“Yeah, did it to cheer up a friend.” That’s one way to describe a memory coated with both joy and grief.

“Huh.”

A dazed off look enters Marrow’s eyes until they wander off to the dress section. His hesitant feet leads them over to the frills and silk and lace. Little Madeleine is instantly by his side, piling dresses in her arms. Qrow picks up the wary curiosity in the unsure movement in the younger man.

Taking a page out of Clover’s book, he says, “You don’t have to force yourself to do this, Marrow.”

“I’m just trying stuff out,” Marrow said, more for himself.

The guy does look a little clueless. After all, simply picking a dress and wearing it is not as easy as it sounds. For skirts, that’s only a matter of hipbones or whatever. As for dresses, Qrow knows from experience how most dresses are designed for slimmer bodies or narrow shoulders.

Thankfully Madeleine is here with a keen eye. She double-checks on the sizes for each dress from hem line to sleeves before handing Marrow the appropriate size. The kid gives him a thumb’s up in approval, assuring Marrow as he goes back to the dressing stall.

“Maddie knows what she’s doing,” Pito proudly states, “she loves helping everyone with their dresses.”

“So I’m not the only guy around here that likes dressing up?” Qrow meant for a lighthearted tone but apparently Pito got a faraway look as she smiled at the sight of her daughter reorganizing the clothing racks.

She needed a stepstool but nonetheless, Madeleine worked diligently.  

“My little girl wants to make the world be as pretty as she believes it to be,” Pito said.

There was a small hitch in her throat at the ‘little girl’ part. It paired with the watery eyes Pito attempted to brush away.

“She sounds a lot like my kids,” Qrow shared.

The mother sends him a knowing look, something that Summer once had when the girls were cradled in her arms. That sweet security and peace and Qrow is slowly learning that feeling too.

They wrap things up. Qrow returns to his regular clothes, an overcoat where the entire back section is gone so that his wings don’t have any troubles.

Marrow hasn’t come out when Qrow finishes paying. Pito has a worried look but Qrow gestures to let him handle this.

Knocking gently on the door, he calls out, “Hey, Marrow, how’re you doing?”

“Okay,” is said too fast, too caught off guard but Marrow tries again with a calmer tone, “They actually do fit, well most of them I think but…”

“I’m not asking about the clothes, kid.”

There a pause and while Qrow is worrying, he also realizes that oh.

So this is what’s like to be Clover in these conversations. But Marrow is not Qrow. Perhaps they have similar experiences, but the dog faunus eventually opens up.

“I’ve never really wore anything that was for me. It was always a uniform and that was safe because at first glance, I belonged to a group.”

“I get that, kid,” he said, “Blake too.”

“I know that,” Marrow’s voice is a bit muffled but a twinge of exhaustion is there. “I just want to be confident in all of me. Like how you wear dresses or like how Blake cut her hair.” His words get softer but they make it through the door, “And May… You’re all so proud being yourselves.”

Again, words fail him. Qrow has those old gut instincts to argue against Marrow’s claim. The rooted knots in his stomach would actually hurt at someone else’s belief in him.

But those tangled threads aren’t holding strength as Qrow thinks of his pride.

Sure he has pride in his skill, in earning the two month chip of his sobriety, and most of all, pride in his kids.

As for self-pride, huh, is that’s what Qrow’s been walking with? Has that been intertwining with his acceptance and eagerness to be happy again?

Unfortunately now is not the time to have a revelation or self-reflection, Marrow is spiraling and Qrow doesn’t have much familiarity on this. He always thought as Marrow as a faunus with a strong sense of identity but Qrow should’ve know better, after all he hid behind thinly veiled self-loathing thoughts.

Qrow can’t get another word out, any idea of comforting Marrow is unsure when he hears the shop’s entrance chime.

It must be luck, good or bad, it doesn’t matter because guess who’s here.

Fiona Thyme is occupied with talking to Pito while May Marigold meets his gaze.

‘And May,’ Marrow had trailed off with, as if she’s the most important person to think about.

Without a second thought, Qrow walks up to the ladies.

“Hi Qrow,” begins Fiona. She’s the most familiar with him sense they’re the ones who had to keep Robyn and Clover from sassing each other when they meet up. She tilts her head, reading into his quiet turmoil, “Is something wrong?”

His frown isn’t reassuring as he turns to May, “Marrow’s in there.”

All he did was point to the dressing rooms and then May was already speed walking there, a panicked and vulnerable expression on her face.

The shop may have that idle instrumental music playing lowly in the background but he hears May gently say, “Marrow, it’s me, will you let me in?”

Five seconds of stasis and holding their breaths, the door opens and May is let in.

Qrow usually doesn’t look too deep into his kids’ relationships, usually because none of them are subtle about their fluffy affection or bad pickup lines. But for Marrow, he was Clover’s kid so Qrow had that innate urge to get on the good side of his boyfriend’s friends.

The other Ace Operatives still claim their acquaintances at best but that’s an utterly proven wrong at the end of the day. Each one of them cares about Clover in their own way and expressed their varying degree of enthusiasm and care for the Beacon hunters.

As for the rookie, Marrow got quite comfortable with Qrow’s flock, specifically Jaune. That is what Qrow is trying to wrap up to, Marrow and Jaune had that coffee thing and then suddenly Marrow’s joining them in game night.

So in shorter words, Qrow cares about Marrow but also wondering what the kid’s gonna do about his feelings for two people. Well according to Fiona who’s here to pick up her dress, the Happy Huntresses are all going so Marrow’s gonna be in a room with two of his crushes.

Just a normal day in Atlas.

They spend an hour longer in the shop helping Marrow decide on an outfit. Well, mostly May and Madeleine because the dog faunus trusts them. Although if Qrow guided the little bird away from the red dresses then that’s the least he can do to prevent Jaune from getting bittersweet flashbacks.

Actually, now that he thinks about it, Jaune wouldn’t be the only one reminiscing about the fallen warrior of reds and golds.  

By the time they finish shopping and thanking James’ credit card that either May or Fiona tried to steal, the two huntsmen were back at the academy as the sun sinks into the horizon.

Marrow wasn’t too elated to hang out with anyone so he retreated to his room hugging his garment bag tightly, a relieved smile on his face.

That leaves Qrow to handle his usual amount of rambunctious kids who demand his attention.

The moment they spy the garment bag carefully tucked under his arm, they turned into vultures.

“You got an outfit? Put it on, put it on!” Ruby demanded, bouncing in her feet and just like Madeleine, made grabby hands at him.

Weiss, the opposite of childish joy, pouted, “We were all supposed to go to my tailor together!”

“But we did that other day,” Jaune complained, slumped over the couch with Nora. He’s on warren duty, keeping the thunderbolt out of the kitchen while Ren and Oscar prepare dinner.

“It’s called final fittings.”

“Is that what you call taking three hours making sure your gear is lit free?” Blake teases.

Her eyes are still glued to her book as her fuzzy socked feet are swung over the couch’s arm. Her toes tap the air, meaning she’s at a good part. Blake’s head is rested upon Yang’s lap whose idly combing her hands in the cat faunus’ hair while Yang watches the superhero movie marathon Jaune has been raving about.

“Ha, nice one,” Nora grinned and while Jaune is snickering, she tries to escape his hold.

Nora could easily threaten to hurt Jaune or actually hurt Jaune but she loves handholding too much to do that to her leader. That and Qrow has given her the parental disapproving lecture about throwing threats around.

So far her escape plan is to slitter away but from pure instinct or insight, Ren looks away from his work to just stare at her with a raised brow. Nora sinks back to the couch, just in time to watch the superhero with slow motion powers use his powers for the greater good.

“Food’s almost ready,” Oscar announces and turns off the stove, “I don’t think Qrow should risk his suit against the curry.”

“Dress actually,” he corrects, walking pass his starry eyed niece and his grinning niece and a bunch of other children that have decided to look up to him. “You four,” he points to the couch potatoes, “go set the table.”

He feels a little vindicated when they listen.

Only Weiss and Ruby follow him to his room, the one originally assigned to him but some of his clothes have migrated to Clover’s room. Still, it’s nice to have a place close to the kids. It was also a hassle to be too near to the kids’ dorms simply due to how they are in the mornings.

The two coffee machines and one tea kettle are not enough for the eight youths.

Qrow gently places the dress bag in his closet, Weiss and Ruby instantly drawn to it while he searches for some more casual clothes. Look, Nora can be a messy eater, there’s a good chance curry will be flying thanks to his semblance.

When he’s trying to find a matching set of socks, a futile mission, he hears his niece and her girlfriend unzip the bag and start to wow about his dress.

“It’s so pretty!”

“Definitely a lot more tasteful than I expected.”

“You’re just jealous that your dress doesn’t have this much detail.”

“I’ve worn countless of dresses, Ruby, and a good number of them are up to this quality. I am not jealous.”

“Nice to hear your approval then,” Qrow said. Weiss quirks a smile at him, glad that her intentions are known. “Hey, can you help me with this thing too?”

His left wing hasn’t been feeling great against the cold evening air. Maybe a feather or two were misaligned during his dressing and left a patch of rough wing skin exposed to the chills. The wing wasn’t cooperating when he tried to remove his coat.

“Of course,” Weiss stepped behind him. The first time he asked for her help, her hands shook a bit, too nervous to mess up but determined to do the task. This time there isn’t any jitter or nerves, just helpful and careful.

Once the heavy coat is off, he reaches over to find the ruffled feathers.

“Thanks,” he said to the ice princess who ironically has a soft expression that’s melting his heart.

“You’re welcome, Uncle Qrow,” Weiss replies.

A high pitch squeal exits Ruby’s mouth despite the fact that her hands are clasped over, like that can tamper her excitement. The giddiness radiating off of her matches the squishiness in Qrow.

That squishy feeling always happens whenever his kids, aside from Yang and Ruby, call him uncle.

The first time each one said it was a total shock and it’s even more heartfelt knowing they still continue to do so.

Weiss rolls her eyes, like that can downplay the emotional impact she caused to the family.

“Come on Ruby,” she reminds, “there’s dinner waiting for us.”

She grabs Ruby’s hand and whisks her away. Ruby gives her uncle a parting thumb’s up.

“Clover’s going to love it!”

…oh boy, Qrow needs to mentally prepare for that.

[smartguyreviewed]

2x2 - Working Guy

Originial air date: September 17, 1997

Did anyone have an actual job when they were teens? I remember how embarassing it was for me, a high schooler in the mid-aughts, to tote around resumes in my little manila folder and then be told to either apply online or have some snooty white asshole at Eddie Bauer all but dismiss me because he was clearly racist. The only jobs I really “held” included being an election judge twice, once during that totally insignificant 2008 presidential race and the other being a summer camp counselor at the church I went to. 

Those little jobs sucked but I chose them. The students of Piedemont High were not that lucky. 

The setting for this episode is the work experience program that shows students what it’s like to have a job. I have a lot of questions. I’m sure some of these students fared better than me back then and already have jobs, so wouldn’t this make no sense? Would they have two jobs? Are all of these jobs suitable for minors? Why does Piedmont fund such strange things?

Mo, as usual, (or depending on the plot of the episode) only cares about the perks of whatever he’s doing. With the band, it’s the girls. With this program, it’s being able to leave school after lunch. Wait, what? They’re having the students skip multiple classes for this? Is this part of a class or an elective? I wonder because this seems like it takes up a lot of time.

TJ is more excited about working in the industry of his choice, but if that was the case, he’d already have a job assigned to him as opposed to having to pick what’s on the board, making it first come, first serve. This is dumb and I can’t believe I have this many questions about a fictional high school. Anyways, TJ is short so he can only grab what he can reach and it’s not what he wants at all because he has a menial blue collar job.

Meanwhile, at the crib, Floyd is pissed because his basketball buddy who is a doctor apparently has cancelled their game because he has to do surgery. Floyd is only petty every once in a while so I’ll let him have this one. Then Marcus comes in wearing a suit and even though we’ve definitely seen him dressed up before, the audience goes wild. I hate canned audience reactions! He says not to hate him because he’s wearing Armani. 

I first thought Marcus was joking because it looks like a Sears original to me, but apparently he took Floyd’s credit card and had a ball buying clothes for his fancy schmancy job. Okay, I have more questions. Marcus had to buy a whole suit and shoes to enter his predominately white workspace. Is Piedmont paying for things the students need to even work at their job? What if you’re a natural black woman and you have to get your hair straightened if you have Marcus’s job? This is all for a part time job during school hours, so will these hours count towards credit since you’re not in class? I am so confused. 

Floyd is surprisingly okay with Marcus running up his card because his next question is asking if he can help Floyd get ready for his game. Marcus jokes that he’s going to be drinking with the guys after work. Floyd doesn’t press further and says he’ll practice alone until Yvette offers. Marcus and Floyd have a nice kii at this because duh, Yvette’s a girl and girls don’t play basketball. I love how all the Henderson men (including Mo) are sexist in their own ways. This isn’t the first time Floyd disregards his daughter when it comes to doing “manly” things and Marcus and TJ bond over their hatred of Yvette when her feminine ways don’t align with their default male ways. 

TJ comes in and doesn’t want to talk because he’s embarassed to have this job that was forced on him. Marcus adds insult to injury by informing him that he’s working at Marcus’s job.

Speaking of Marcus, this dude just doesn’t quit. He begins sexually harassing one of the women who works there, inquiring about what she does. She has to explain to him what a DVD is, immediately dating this show. Luckily, she has sense and shoots down his attempts. Sis can’t even do her job without some horny little high school boy bothering her. This program is stupid, by the way.

TJ enters, wearing his blue collar work uniform and ringing a bell. After fending off the usual “aww he’s so cute” remarks, he’s led into the office that needs the grub. The buffoons working there can’t seem to figure out whatever physics equation makes the DVDs run and of course, TJ is effortlessly able to offer a suggestion. He gets poached from this stupid temp position to help them out.

Floyd and Yvette are practicing in the garage when Marcus and Mo show up to gloat about their temporary yet important positions. Marcus has his own office. I would hate to be the person who worked there for years, sacrificed weekends, holidays and their sanity to get a promotion and their name on a door, only to watch a punk ass intern from high school get it instead. Mo is somehow working for a judge but I’m not sure for how long because this briefcase that was foolishly given to him contains a document that should have already been mailed off to William Renquist. Mo quickly dashes from that scene to deliver the mailpiece. Marcus makes an extremely dark joke that i didn’t even catch at first about someone getting the electric chair due to Mo’s carelessness. I’m sorry but I bellowed at that. However, I question how many lawsuits will be filed against Piedmont after this program is over.

TJ comes home and announces that he quit his blue collar job and is now working as a special consultant for research and development at DVD Electronic. That’s the name of the company? It’s so bland and generic that i sounds like an Amazon seller of used books and shit. Floyd is confused but TJ gets hired by a large company every other week so it’s whatever.

At work, we see TJ has his own office. Remember that person I would hate to be? They have to watch a fucking 10 year old get it instead. Maybe they did a mass firing or something because they seem to have plenty of rooms to just give to people. Of course, TJ likes the new digs. After his friendly secretary introduces him to his space, the resident hater shows up. I guess the person I was describing earlier is this white man, because man is he salty about having to share a cubicle when he started. White man is now attempting to get into TJ’s head and asks that he pitch all ideas to him first. How TJ, who is probably a psycho or sociopath didn’t see through this as a ruse for him to profit off his black ass ideas is beyond me. Or maybe TJ is faking dumb so that when he does reveal white man’s treachery, it’s more believeable? 

Marcus barges in and the white man is two seconds away from calling the cops before Marcus lets him know they’re related. But white man thinks him calling TJ his brother is a “black” thing until TJ says they are related albeit with similar genetic coding. I assume this is an obvious reference to Marcus being darker than him? Funny because I just wonder if Floyd’s wife was dark or if they both have a dark skinned parents and it just so happened to manifest in Marcus and no one else? Or maybe Marcus is actually his half-son? Let me stop. 

After the white man leaves, Marcus correctly assumes he is a piece of shit but TJ disagrees. He then gets a call to join a meeting. The head boss who is stationed in Zurich makes it a point to consider that TJ’s work study day ends at 5--wait, so they’re away from school for that long?--but quickly ignores that tidbit when some meeting gets pushed to 6. Of course, TJ shouldn’t be here unsupervised and out this late but we’re gonna ignore that even if the logistics of the Piedmont Work Study Program still boggle my mind.

So yeah, TJ is stuck at work and being asked about one of his ideas, the big boss says that the white man told him to filter all ideas through him. The white man is clearly displeased with TJ snitching but the boss man ends up making TJ the new head of the project. That’s how you use your privilege, even if it is child endangerment! The hating white man (whose name is Dick Ferrett by the way) comments to another coworker that TJ is toast. How dare this little black bastard be better than him?

Meanwhile, at home, Floyd is nursing an Yvette inflicted wound from when they were practicing basketball. TJ comes home acting like a middle aged adult, complaining about work and how bad traffic was. When Floyd notices how TJ is being affected by this job, he suggests that he quit. TJ whines for a little bit and Floyd relents. What the fuck Floyd, drag him by his collar and make him sit down! TJ promises to make Floyd’s game which means he won’t be able to make it because of work.

The next day, TJ is at work and discussing things with his secretary. The hating white man is just itching to fuck up TJ’s day and it shows. You might not be wondering who replaced TJ as the chow wagon boy but it turns out that it was Mo. Yes, instead of being fired from this program that he had no business being in to begin with, he was demoted to TJ’s job.

TJ is about to leave for the day when hating ass white man comes and dumps a bunch of work on TJ’s desk. See? Told you he wouldn’t be able to make Floyd’s game! Luckily, his secretary is going to film it for him.

Back at work, TJ is falling asleep trying to carry these stooges to a victory and the hating ass white man is actually calling TJ names. They even go back and forth for a moment. Floyd finally decides that enough is enough and he’s bogarted his way through security to get TJ because I’m sure it’s midnight at this point. TJ tells Floyd he must be mad that the game was missed. Floyd says he isn’t mad although the other guys’ kids showed up. Aww Flody. Parents have feelings, too.

The head white boss offers Floyd to hire TJ permanently but Floyd declines. TJ is able to get the hating ass white man fired before he leaves, in a move that is definitely petty but deserved. Fuck that guy, exploiting a gifted black child like that.

TJ is mad at Floyd according to a conversation between Yvette and himself. He thinks TJ is going to be mad at him forever but he comes downstairs and asks to play dominos with him. Aww. This is quickly ruined as per the usual. We all know TJ only abruptly forgives and forgets when he has an ulterior motive. This time, he’s going behind Floyd’s back to keep working with DVD Electronics. Floyd comes in during a session. I’m assuming he got his ass whooped after this but we just fade to black before an arms-folded Floyd can dole out any punishment. Eh, guess we’ll find out in the next episode. Ha. No we won’t.

Stuff I noticed:

- DVD Electronics video chat has a pretty stellar, crisp quality for 90s internet.

- Mo rewore this shirt from a prior episode. I really like when characters rewear clothes. It’s much more realistic than characters who seem to always have money for new outfits no matter how broke they claim to be.

- When TJ is bringing in the food, there’s an audience member who yells “You go, girl!” I have heard this woman in the audience of a Boy Meets World episode and another show that I can’t recall, but further proves that canned laughter is creepy and needs to be banned everywhere.

[doc-pickles]

it’s nothing funny just to talk (p. 1)

What happens when you text that random number graffitied on a bathroom stall in your favorite bar? Jo Wilson is about to find out. - In which Bar Princess and Doctor Evil Spawn meet via text.

More Jolex on your timeline because y’all seemed to love what I posted before! Also I’ve posted this whole piece on AO3 as well so it might look familiar.  

this idea came to me in a fever dream and i am not sorry that y'all have to deal with it. 99% of this fic will be in "texting" format, so be prepared for that. 

Jo is regular Alex is italics

Saturday 11:04 PM

heeeeey is thiss doctor evil?

I gotta say ur phone sex namee needs sum weerk

u soud like a comic book village 

fuck

village

VILLAIN

Who the hell is this? And how did you get my number? 

i’m just a girl at thee bar!!!! 

Joe’s Bar?

noooooo

i’m at enerlad city bar

You didn’t answer my question. 

u asked a quesitoon?

whata was it?

i’m goos at takifjg tests 

How’d you get my number?

it qas in the bathrooom!!!

it said “for a good tiem txt dr evil spawne” 

so I did

I am ready to havee fun

You’re drunk, obviously, and I’m going to have to kill Cristina for putting my number up. 

ooooooh is thatt ur girleifnd?

hirlefiend 

girlfriend**

Wow you’re really gone. And hell no, she’s my roommate. One of them. 

ooooh how many do u hav

roomees not girlfriends 

Three. Two girls and a dude. 

intereeesting...

well it’s tome for fireball shoots

steph is yeeling at me 4 txting too much

goodbey doctor eviel apawn!!

Oh lord. Tell Steph you need water. Or an IV. 

I’ve got her. she’s throwing up on her shoes. thanks doctor. - steph

  Sunday 10:11 AM

You know you’re pretty funny, Bar Girl. 

jesus christ what fucking time is it?! 

10 AM

I’m assuming you have a massive hangover. 

hold on I can’t hear you over the sound of me vomiting

TMI as the kids say these days. 

what’re you a grandpa or something?? 

No I just don’t know how to use text lingo. Except WTF. I know that one very well. 

quick question

who the fuck are you?

Dr. Evil Spawn. You found my name graffitied in the bathroom of Emerald City Bar. 

holy shit

I thought I dreamed that... WHAT THE FUCK

Nope. I’m real. 

holy shit i’m so sorry

my texts were so annoying

Who hurt you? I mean you were shitfaced, I’m assuming someone broke your heart into tiny pieces. 

the opposite actually, I was at a bachelorette party

not mine, i’m so single it hurts

Ahhh that makes sense. So you got shitfaced in solidarity? 

exactly you get it

you seem like you’d be the DD at a bachelorette party

Well seeing as I’m a dude I don’t do Bachelorette parties. 

Well I did go to one, but that’s a different story.  

hmmm you seem like a very interesting man doctor evil spawn 

going to bachelorette parties, living with women who aren’t your girlfriend 

OMG ARE YOU DATING THE GUY YOU LIVE WITH?!

George? No absolutely not. And before you ask, my other girl roommate is gay. 

so you’re single?

i’m only asking so when you murder me the police have as much information as possible

Haha very funny. I would be a terrible murderer. 

you didn’t answer my question

Fine. Yes I’m single. 

i’ll note that in the “serial killer file” i’m building 

gotta go, I have to do work :/

Have fun, don’t die. 

  Sunday 8:38 PM

Arizona is trying to set me up on a blind date. 

who’s arizona?

My gay roommate. She wants me to meet this “bubbly blonde” she knows from her pilates class. 

ahhhh. why don’t you go?

Bubbly blonde is not my type. Sounds like she’ll spend the whole date talking about how much she loves dogs or her knitting hobby. 

Plus she does pilates, that tells me more than enough. 

you’re making some good points. I don’t pity you. 

You better not. How was work?

the longest day of my life

it was just paperwork, I don’t actually work on the weekends

What do you do?

hmmmm that’s exactly what a serial killer would say

i’m an elementary school teacher

Oh so you sing and dance and paint pictures all day?

what school did you go to?

were working on multiplication tables and basic photosynthesis tomorrow

Wow that sounds like a lot.

it’s may, ive got three weeks of school left so I have to cram all the crap we didn’t cover into these last few weeks 

Ahhh that sounds more accurate.

and what do you do? 

besides text strangers that you don’t know

I’m a pediatrician. 

oh so you make kids cry and wipe snotty noses all day? two can play at that game

Well we both have to deal with snotty noses sooo...

I GET IT!! Doctor Evil Spawn!! 

why evil spawn though? 

I wasn’t this nice when I started med school. My personality is an acquired taste. 

ha! that’s a funny joke. 

so if you’re a fancy schmancy doctor why do you live with three other people?

I’m only a resident, not making the big bucks yet. Everyone else is a doctor too. 

are they all pediatricians?

No. Arizona is too but Cristina is a cardiologist and George is a trauma specialist. 

interesting!! I too live with my coworkers. it’s not fun. 

the table is always covered in craft supplies. 

Well I can never read the grocery list on the fridge. Stupid doctors script...

oh that’s a classic. you’re pretty funny Dr. Evil Spawn

Thanks Bar Girl. 

I gotta go. monday tomorrow and you know how fourth graders can be. night!! 

Night . 

  Monday 9:47 AM

there’s not enough coffee in the world for monday mornings. 

  Monday 10:52 AM 

Sorry I was yelling at the interns. We have a decent coffee cart here. Keeps me alive. Are you texting in class?

no it was recess

now they’re at spanish class

i’m not totally irresponsible 

Oh good to know the future of America is in good hands. Teacher Princess is “not totally irresponsible”

teacher princess?

Well, Cinderella lost her shoe, you puked on yours. Same thing. 

wooooooooow

that was so uncalled for...

I thought it was funny. Gotta go set a broken arm. 

broken arm vs. adverbs... can we switch? have fun lol

  Monday 3:26 PM

I don’t even think I know what an adverb is. 

how did you become a doctor??

Don’t need to know adverbs to fix a couple broken bones and snuffy noses. 

oh darn I should’ve gone to school for seven more years then

Haha. How were the adverbs?

better than expected, grading papers while I wait for my roomies to be done

we carpool, saving the environment and shit

Okay Eco Warrior.

you text like a 60 year old man

you’re not a 60 year old man are you?

No I’m a 28 year old man though

28 a doctor and you’re single? your personality must be worse than you described 

I’m a busy man, I don’t have time to settle down. And I have no desire to. 

yet you have time to text a complete stranger? 

hmmmm interesting...

Ouch, that one hurt Princess. 

steph is making me socialize with the other teachers

if I don’t respond, they killed me or dragged me to an essential oil party

Hahahaha

  Monday 5:18 PM

Did you get roped into a pyramid scheme?

nooo but therew as wine

I should sotp drunk texting you so often 

It makes your presence that much more entertaining. And bearable. 

woah woah dude

i’m a gem 

I can tell. Elementary school teacher with a heart of gold. 

awwww your too sweet tome

It’s a Monday. Who the hell gets drunk on a Monday?

teachers

we deserve it

You’re a teacher and you’re single and still going to Bachelorette parties. You’re what, 23? 

i’m 25 and i’m doing greta thanks you very nuch 

cnat believe that i’m supplying my perosnal info to a serial killer

What makes you so sure that I’m a mass murderer? 

ur weird nickname and ur intimate knowledge of the himan body

Mmm yes well a good amount of women do find themselves screaming around me often. Or under me. On top of me...

omg are you sending me dirty jokes

you’re crazy 

What can I say. 

Gotta go, I’m on call tonight. Get to bed safe, Bar Princess. 

mmmkay thanks Doc

  Wednesday 11:29 AM

What do you think is worse: School lunch or hospital food?

hospital food, no doubt

thursday is mac and cheese day here... I could bathe in that stuff

We have Spaghetti Wednesday but that’s the only good thing here. 

mmm how depressing

the teachers do a pot luck once a month and that’s always good

the art teacher next door to me makes the BEST blueberry muffins. 

Lucky. All I get here is vending machine cookies. Anything interesting happening in the elementary world? 

a first grader got lice last week so naturally we all have it now

I had to chop off six inches of my hair

Holy crap. Lice can be vicious, be thankful you didn’t have to shave your head. 

it feels like I did, my hair hasn’t been above my shoulders since the backstreet boys were still touring

Wow. I’m glad to know you’re well cultured. 

of course I am

gotta go, kids are back from music class

Don’t be too hard on them, they deserve a break every once in awhile. 

  Thursday 3:06 PM

Incoming Voice Call

“Jenna you forgot your lunch pail. Have a good day!”

“Hello?”

“Hi Mrs. Peters. I didn’t grade Henry’s test yet, I’ll have it tomorrow. Thanks bye!”

“Helloooo?”

“Steph I gotta grab my things, I’ll be there in a seco- oh shit. Hello?”

“Bar Princess?”

“Doctor Evil Spawn? I must’ve butt dialed you, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay I... I don’t mind the interruption. Are you leaving work?”

“Just about, we’re wrapping up the solar system and I have to bring home the diorama.”

“I was never good at the models, I prefer working with the real thing.”

“Oh ho, a man that works with his hands. I can appreciate that.”

“You know now we’re officially talking and we still don’t know each other’s names.”

“Well around here I’m Miss Wilson, but you can call me Jo.”

“Jo. Hmm I like chicks with dudes names. I’m Dr. Karev but you can call me Alex.”

“Well nice to kinda meet you Alex. I’ll talk to you soon, I gotta get out of here.”

“Talk to you later.”  

  Thursday 4:34 PM

I wouldn’t mind if you were my teacher.

how did I know you’d send me something along those lines

I’m predictable. I’m still calling you Bar Princess. 

as you wish doctor evil spawn

I get to assist on a surgery today. Tonsillectomy. 

like removing tonsils? that’s awesome

for you, not for the kid

Oh she’ll be fine, she gets ice cream and jello for a week.  

okay yeah I might be jealous of her now

id love to be off work for a week and have you waiting on me hand and foot

the ice cream is a nice bonus

You think that’s my job?

well you said you aren’t making the big bucks yet so.... yeah 

Keep dreaming. I’ll talk to you later, gotta scrub in. 

have fun!!!!