#Also man do I struggle with queue because what was interesting then is maybe not interesting in 9hrs…tumblr really is a ‘livestream’ space

[divinekangaroo]

The strange thing of being online only partially is, now I feel even more awkward “””interacting””” because I don’t have the contextual ebb and flow

[ridiasfangirlings]

Hey so I was the one who gave this ask but erm I actually meant Non-binary Yata & Asexual Yata, like yata not having a gender and not liking sex when I said 'Sarumi AU' I didn't mean Non-binary Fushimi, I just said Sarumi au because I know you also get Misaru asks and I'm not a huge fan of that dynamic so I put Sarumi AU, but never meant it as Non-binary Fushimi & Asexual Yata. (I'm hoping this didn't sound rude or anything)

Aaaaahhh sorry anon, that one was my fault ;; I have no idea how but my brain thought that ask read ‘non-binary Fushimi and asexual Yata’ and I don’t know why, I had to go double check after I got this one and was like ‘how did I even miss that?’. So! Since this one was my fault I’m gonna answer this one out of order so you still get your place in the queue properly. Non-binary Yata is interesting, I feel like Yata is a fun character to explore with different identities because canon indicates he’s not really good with computers or online a lot and I think especially as a kid he would have less exposure to different identities so I see him struggling a lot with a thing he knows but can’t vocalize (also again, just using ‘he’ for convenience sake. I could see Yata going for more of a ‘he/them’ pronouns, though on that end it’s much easier to use non-gendered language in Japanese so he might not even really need to ‘pick’ a pronoun, everyone just uses neutral language for him).  In this case I could see that actually being part of why he has all these masculinity issues, because he’s increasingly aware that he doesn’t really feel like a guy and he’s desperately trying to hide it, overcompensating by trying his hardest to be aggressively manly so no one thinks he’s weird. I could see his only exposure to trans people being like unfortunate comedic stereotypes on TV so any idea that he could be a girl also doesn’t work for him (and then at the same time even without those stereotypes he doesn’t feel like a girl either, he just thinks that if he’s not a guy then girl is the only option and he rebels aggressively against the idea).

It’s in meeting Fushimi that Yata really starts to realize who he is, imagine Fushimi not only being supportive of Yata but also the one who kinda realizes what’s going on. Fushimi can be perceptive when he wants to be (and especially in situations where he himself isn’t directly involved) so I could see some time shortly after they’ve become friends when Yata’s putting on a show of masculinity and Fushimi clicks his tongue and calls Yata annoying. Yata’s a little hurt by that and Fushimi says it’s annoying, when Yata keeps putting on this fake show that Yata himself doesn’t even believe, how bothersome. Yata realizes that Fushimi’s seen through the whole thing and imagine him kindly nervously admitting it, that he doesn’t feel like a man. He quickly adds that he’s not a girl though and Fushimi scoffs: ‘why do you have to choose one or the other? Idiot.’ Up until this moment Yata’s never even thought about that, that he doesn’t have to make a binary choice, and this is really one of the big moments where I could see him just falling for Fushimi all over again because Saruhiko is that amazing, finding the answer to the question Yata’s been struggling with for most of his life.

So then post-ROK Yata has a whole new crisis with realizing that it’s not just that he’s a virgin, or nervous about sex, it’s that he’s simply…not interested in it. I could see this bringing back his old worries from before he realized that he was non-binary, like maybe this is another thing that’s weird or wrong about him and he doesn’t like this because he thought he was finally comfortable with himself. Imagine he tries to force himself to ignore these feelings though, because he does love Saruhiko and he doesn’t want Fushimi to think Yata isn’t attracted to him or anything. But then when things start getting hot and heavy Fushimi suddenly pulls away from Yata with a tongue click. Yata asks what’s wrong and Fushimi coldly says if Yata was going to fake it he should just say so. Yata tries to argue but Fushimi’s already getting dressed and leaving.

Afterward Yata’s really upset, feeling like this is his fault for being weird (and also aware that Fushimi absolutely thinks that Yata’s issues were because there’s something about him, not that Yata doesn’t care for sex in general). This would probably turn into one of those ‘Kusanagi/Homra alphabet teach Yata what asexuality is’ moments, and Yata is again amazed because there are all these things about himself that other people have felt too and it’s kinda cool, realizing that there’s a word for what you feel. I also think it would help him a lot to learn that asexual people can still have and even enjoy sex, it’s just that it’s not something he actively desires. I like the idea that someone tips Fushimi off about this conversation too so when Yata gets back to his apartment later Fushimi is there being all awkward and trying to avoid apologizing but looking like he wants to. Yata feels this rush of relief that Saruhiko still came back after all and they get to sit and have this talk, imagine Fushimi being like didn’t I already have this with you when we were in middle school. Yata’s like yeah but that one was different, smiling as he says even if he isn’t interested in sex himself that doesn’t mean he hates it or anything, maybe just take it slow, and that Fushimi’s gonna need to learn to be honest if that’s what he wants from Yata because Yata doesn’t want Fushimi to think that Yata doesn’t care just because Yata’s way of expressing love is different.

[zippy-reacts]

Sonic the Comic Liveblog: Issue 85

I am now immensly jealous of some kids from thirty-or-so years ago. I wonder if any of those jackets are still around?

(Also assuming I don't change the queue scheduling, this is being posted on the 23rd, so happy birthday Sonic!

What an outfit. Smoking jacket, bright-ass shoes, and a very impractical looking cane

First sentence this guy has spoken and he's already iconic

Yeah, defininitely sounds like important information to give in advance. Also, this is a very random to bring this up now, I know, but I wonder if anyone has ever made dubs of StC with British accents. I mean, I literally live in the UK and I'm struggling to hear anything other than these character's American voice actors when I read dialouge

When Omni was first introduced he was treated like a god but now a holding cell twarts him lmao

StC hasn't really been subtle at all so far so I'm expecting this guy to turn out to be evil BUT I would love it if this guy was a bit like Mihawk from One Piece where he's just a dramatic goth who's really committed to the aesthetic

Well, turns out he is indeed evil, but perhaps more importantly, stupid.

Got a couple of thoughts so here's them all in quick bullet points:

Really nice art on that first panel.

Interesting way to depict Super's teeth though

It is so funny the entire mansion just fucking exploded without him so much as lifting a finger

Top-tier expression

Jerkyl and Hyde thing going on, nice, cool to see even the side characters are going along with the horror theme

This panel is pretty funny in it's own right in terms of timing with the previous panel but uhh… choosing to make the laser beams or whatever piss yellow also makes it hilarious in an unintended way

I don't really like the way these comic depict Sonic's quills from the back but I do gotta acknowledge and applaud the effort that went into shading them here.

OHH I really really like how Sonic is drawn in this panel. The perfect mix of cute and badass

I think the joke here might be that Frink is a made-up word because I CANNOT find any definition for it other than a few Urban Dictionary entries that I don't think quite fit

Anyway back to Knuckles. Between now and writing last issue's liveblog it occurred to me that this whole story is reference to The Wicker Man (1973), right down to the inn having the same name. Very interesting choice of reference though, I imagine that film is a bit before the time of the kids who would be reading these comics.

I should probably also mention that while I've read a plot summary, I actually haven't watched Wicker Man myself. I don't really like horror movies but maybe I might give that one a shot sometime.

The Archie comics may have microwaved Knuckles in his egg but it looks like StC is gonna roast him in one!! 👈👈😎

Also I do love how in the following panel the villagers response to this is "lmao do you really think Robotnik gives a shit?"

There were two stories with Tails and Shortfuse. I have no comments for either one.

Well, even if I think the recent Tails stories have been boring as hell, I'm glad some kid out there enjoyed them.

[juiceastronaut]

Sang-woo is extremely interesting character

There's some people saying his actions are "realistic" and there's other people saying he's a dick. There's...merit to both interpretations I think but both aren't the whole picture.

Wee bit of a disclaimer: I'm not Korean, this analysis will come from what I understand about Korean culture but its obviously open to correction.

In Korea, the pressure to get good grades to succeed is off the charts. The suicide rate in Korea is high because of this. Sang-woo was considered a smart kid, on top of that a smart kid from a poor area. Their pride and joy. The pressure from that alone, and the pressure from the culture at large no doubt got to him, repeatedly.

So. He graduates, top of his class, starts working. Gets into debt. How exactly isn't quite stated, maybe he didn't get as well paying job as he was expecting and felt like he needed to make more. Maybe he just starts playing with stocks because that's what people like him do, but that started a slippery slope and landed him in debt. These are understandable circumstances I think. Putting his mom's shop as collateral was a dick move, but still understandable if someone was that desperate and felt like he needed to keep up a "reputation." People like him don't go in debt. He's not allowed to fail. So he delays the inevitable and it hurts his mom in the end.

Queue the games. Which is a perfect microcosm of how capitalism operates, putting your life on the line in order to get money, not being able to get help when you need it. It's the end of the line for him, and everyone there.

And, capitalism makes people do shitty and terrible things for money. It's true in and out of the Squid Game. Notice how (most of) Sang-woo's shit moves come from *inside* the Squid Game.

Look at what he does outside of it. The man's in soul-crushing debt, but he feeds the guy who has no money and gives him the bus fare home. Even though I know he was thinking about how much he needed that money. He had nothing but he still gave it away. That's pretty selfless if you ask me. So, if squid game is an allegory for capitalism then *outside* of capitalism Sang-woo would be pretty selfless.

But he needs to get out of debt. He needs to save his mom from his mistakes. Sang-woo votes to stay in the games, so does Sae-byeok. Gi-hun voted to leave. I can understand the incline to think "the people who voted to leave are good, the ones who stay are selfish" But think about it. Gi-hun has a (meager, just his mom who was also struggling) support system that he could return to. When that collapsed, he chose to return (also the fact his mom was sick and he wanted to help her). Sang-woo and Sae-byeok had no such support system. And they had people relying on them too. They, eventually like everyone else, had no choice but to return.

Which leads to how he acted inside the games. I would say, the only decision that was 100% him being a dick for no reason is not telling Gi-hun about the shapes. It's not like he was that much of a threat, and they were early enough that working in teams that they could trust was still a good idea. No reason to do that. Unless, (a interpretation that Ive seen before) is that he didn't want to be the one to kill him. But the games weren't necessarily "kill everyone and the last survivor gets it" everyone just kinda died by the end. I think people forget that. Idk tho

All his other actions were the fact he was man desperate for money, because society didn't give him the support he needed. The immense pressure to be the "successful" one and the one that didn't need help.

(Before you murder me, Ali was probably one of my favorite characters and I really liked Sae-byeok too. Sang-woo, while interesting is probably further down on my likes list so this isn't me jumping on his dick or anything)

I think eventually what crept into his motivation too was "If I don't win this and get this money everyone else had died for nothing. There was no reason for it"

Which directly tied into why he stabbed himself at the end. He didn't want it to be for nothing, but if they both stalled or died everyone would've died for nothing and he would've done all those evil things for nothing, so he stabs himself so at least a winner could be declared and the money could go somewhere.

There's no win scenerio for Sang-woo that didn't involve him winning. If he and Gi-hun gave up then neither of them would've gotten any of the money. He'd be right back where he started. All that evil for nothing. It makes sense. It's also what he directly stated for why he killed Sae-byeok. A very Not Good decision, but understandable for what his mental state was at that point. He's not dead so he wouldn't even get consultation money. He would've killed Ali for nothing.

And I think he knew Gi-hun would probably help his mom. I think that's what he was asking for at the end.

In conclusion, I think Sang-woo was a man who buckled under the weight of the society around him. No person is inherently good or evil but a person can be pushed to evil under the right circumstances. I think Sang-woo was supposed to portray that.

I think that's why the scene with Ali is so important. Against all his instincts he gave him money. That shows that he could've been a good person if he was allowed to be.

[taetaespeaches]

“I didn’t think you’d care if I came back.”

yoongi x reader (or oc) genre: angst; fluff word count: 3.2K

a/n: Finally we have some fluff again! I mean, the angst is still here, but we’re getting to a resolution. This drabble is inspired by “this is me trying” off of Taylor Swift’s album, folklore, and it takes place after, “You know that I would ruin myself over and over again for you.” This also includes a hint of crack for some comic relief, and because where Jin and Poopsie go, crack follows. I hope you all enjoy, and thanks for reading! :)) 

STEPPING into your apartment, returning home from work, your eyes scanned the small space with distaste. You dreaded coming home to your empty sofa and your empty kitchen and your very empty bed. Even more so, you hated the disappointment you felt in yourself for letting another person get so close to you that they started to feel like home.

Dropping your bag at the front door, you kicked your shoes off carelessly before making your way straight to the bathroom to take a shower. Your showers had been doubling in length, perhaps in hopes that the heat of the water would scald the past couple months right off your skin. Or maybe it was just to feel something other than the hurt.

It was just two months of your life. Why was it having such an impact? It had only been three days since Yoongi walked out, so you hoped it was just the newness of it all that had you feeling so hollow.

Yoongi was just stopping by the dorm for a change of clothes and then he was heading back to the studio. He had spent three days straight in his studio, not even returning to the dorms after leaving your place. Whereas his fans would probably think he was working hard on the second Agust D mixtape, he was mostly just sulking.

He did what was best right? You said you were ruining yourself over him. He was ruining you. So, he left. He didn’t try to work it out, he left. For you. That way, you would have a chance at happiness with someone else. Someone more suitable for you. Someone who could give you what you deserve.

Walking toward his bedroom with his overnight bag in tow, the sound of his roommate’s squeaky laughter echoed through the hallway. Yoongi was suddenly very thankful for the isolation his studio provided, as he remembered Jin saying his girlfriend was visiting family for a few days so he wouldn’t get to see her right away upon returning to Korea from Japan. She must be back now.

“I don’t care if the whole game and franchise is named after Mario, Yoshi is hands down the best character in the Mario realm, and that’s just a fact,” her ranting sounded through the closed door, Jin interrupting her with overdramatic sound effects. Yoongi’s hand was on the doorknob and he had half a mind to ignore his need for a change of clothes and escape back to his studio before anyone noticed he was there.

“There wouldn’t even be a Yoshi if it weren’t for Mario because there would be no Mario franchise,” Jin shouted back, Yoongi’s motions still stalled as he stood on the other side of the door in disbelief. Fucking Mario? Really?

With a sigh, Yoongi opened the door, clearing his throat to alert the two idiots of his presence. Jin’s head popped up off the pillows, greeting Yoongi with an, “oh, hey,” his girlfriend sitting up from her spot next to Jin on the bed.

“Oh, Yoongi, thank god you’re here,” she exclaimed, Yoongi flashing her a surprised expression. “Tell Jin that Yoshi is the best Mario character.”

“That’s ridiculous and you know it,” Jin shouted with wide eyes, his girlfriend turning to look at him. “Yoshi can be your favorite character, but you can’t argue he’s the best.”

“Why can’t I?” She complained, Yoongi quickly losing all interest as he escaped to his side of the room, separated from the bickering couple by a large bookcase.

“Because it’s not called Super Yoshi, or Yoshi Kart,” Jin informed her. Yoongi hurried around his belongings, shoving some clothes into his bag so he could get back to this studio without being dragged back into the couple’s pointless disagreement.

“You’re so annoying,” she huffed, Jin laughing at her attitude.

Zipping the bag back up, Yoongi started toward the door, anxious to get out of the dorm, away from everyone.

“Aw, but I got you something in Japan,” Jin told his girlfriend. Her silence piqued Yoongi’s interest, for reasons unknown to Yoongi, enough for him to look back. She was looking at Jin with her eyebrows raised as Jin pulled out a Yoshi figure from his pocket. “It’s Yoshi!” Yoongi watched as the girl held back a smile, trying to keep up her challenging glare. “I may disagree with you, but I support you and your poor judgement,” Jin teased the girl, lowering himself onto his knees on the bed.

“I'm in love with you, so you may be on to something with the poor judgement thing,” the girl teased right back, taking the figure before cooing at it. “It’s so cute, thank you,” she told him, Yoongi quickly exiting the room.

Part of him found the two lovers cute. A much bigger part found them annoying and gross. Shoving their love in everyone’s faces. He felt like a bitter old man as he shuffled out of the dorm angrily. Why was it that Jin could manage a relationship? How was it that Jin could have his shit together, but Yoongi couldn't? And Hoseok for that matter. Hell, even Namjoon was seeing someone. Why couldn't Yoongi do the same? Making his way out of the building, you overtook his mind. You would have called him out on being a bitter old man. “Jesus, Grampa Min, stop being so grumpy,” he could hear you saying with a giggle. You’d probably even press a kiss to his forehead, flashing him a warm smile. All anger and bitterness dissipated from his body, leaving him sad and frustrated with himself, even more so than before.

Another addition to the list of things you were growing to hate about your living space: it was cold. Bundled up in a large sweatshirt, baggy sweatpants, and colorful fluffy socks on your feet, you waited in the kitchen for your water to boil. All you wanted to do was have a cup of tea and plant yourself in front of the TV to waste away while watching the next Netflix series in your queue. Your still wet hair only made you colder, a shiver moving through your body, causing you to let out a groan.

You resisted the urge to check your phone. He surely hadn’t texted, and you didn’t feel like dealing with the pain that struck your heart every time you saw no notifications from him.

As you mindlessly played with the ends of your damped hair, a knock suddenly sounded on your door, and your heart dropped into your stomach. It had to be him. No one ever visited you at 6:30 pm on a Thursday night. You thought about not answering it, but when the knock sounded again, you convinced yourself you could be wrong. It could be someone else.

Then you caught yourself hoping it wasn't someone else.

Hesitantly, you opened the door, and if you weren’t so angry you would have cried at the sight in front of you.

Yoongi stood in your doorway, dark circles just as prominent as three days ago, eyes puffy and slightly red, one of his hands shoved into his pants pocket, the other hanging by his thigh as he held onto a bouquet of tulips.

Your eyes lingered on the flowers for a moment, not because you really cared about the gesture, but because the appearance of the man who had always been so composed before now looking so completely broken on your doorstep was almost too devastating for your heart to bear.

His eyes scanned your features desperately, though neither of you spoke. It was hard to find the words.

It felt like minutes passed by before Yoongi finally opened his mouth to say something, though he struggled to get the words out. “Kid, I-” he started, tears forming in his eyes.

“I don’t want your flowers if they come with disillusions,” you told him bitterly, holding onto your anger, despite the bubbling feeling of wanting to wrap him up in your arms.

Your eyes followed a tear as it slid off his plush cheek, the cheeks you adored so much, landing on the side of his hand. “If you want me to lay out all my mistakes right now, I will,” he told you sincerely, the comment taking you by surprise. “For starters, I shouldn’t have left. I should have fought with you, I should have stayed to finish that fight,” he said in frustration, partly to himself.

Maybe the words should have confused you, but you understood exactly what he was saying. For you both to express your frustrations with each other and with yourselves, the fight needed to happen. With Yoongi leaving, you didn’t get to the point of discussion following the anger. Instead, he walked away, as if you weren’t worth fighting with, or for.

“Why did it take you three days to come back?” You asked, a strange mixture of anger and sadness and hope swirling around your stomach.

“I didn’t think you’d care if I came back,” he admitted sadly, wiping his face with the back of his hand to get rid of the tears, the bouquet messing his fringe as it made contact with his forehead. He avoided eye contact, keeping his stare directed to your fuzzy sock-covered feet.

“Of course, I care,” you told him, taking a step back to allow him space to enter your apartment. His eyes followed the colorful fluffy material as you moved aside. “Now get in here so we can fight.”

You barely noticed the quirk in Yoongi's lip as it curved just slightly into the tiniest of smiles. He entered your apartment tentatively, and his presence already made it feel more like home again. You felt certain in that moment that no matter what room he walked into, it would feel like home.

Turning toward you, still avoiding your eyes but raising his gaze to your waist, he weakly held up the bouquet. "These are tulips," he told you dumbly, finishing the statement off with a sniffle.

You stared at him for a moment but he didn't continue. "I know," you finally said.

Another beat went by as you faced each other, a feeling of awkwardness enveloping the room. “They symbolize-" he started, just as the teapot started screaming in the kitchen.

“Hang on,” you told him, rushing to the kitchen to remove the pot from the stove, turning the burner off. For a moment, you thought about sitting in the kitchen for a moment to gather your thoughts, but with a vulnerable Min Yoongi standing just a few feet away, you found yourself hurrying back to him.  

“Sorry, what were you saying?” You asked, Yoongi looking to the side of the room.

“Tulips symbolize-”

"Yoongi,” you breathed out. “I don't care about the flowers right now, what are you doing here?" You cut him off, getting straight to the point.

"I want to fix this," he told you sincerely, lifting his gaze to meet yours.

You shrugged. "And how?" He stared at you for a moment, so you decided to continue. "I'm sick of feeling like I'm not wanted."

Yoongi quickly negated the comment, shaking his head. "I always want you."

"Then why do I feel unwanted by you?" Your volume raised as you asked the question, Yoongi appearing to hold his breath for a moment. Letting it out in a shaky breath, he looked back to your feet. "You say you want me but your actions say different, Yoongi. And you can't tell me how I feel, I feel unwanted."

"I'm sorry," he apologized quietly, lifting his gaze to meet your eyes. "I'm not trying to tell you how you feel, I'm just coming to terms with the fact that I made you feel that way," his voice broke.

"I don't want to hold this over your head, and I don't want you beating yourself up for it," you told him. "I just want you. But if I can't have you and feel good about myself and us, then I need to you to leave and I need you to stay gone." Speaking the words added cracks to your heart, but it also lifted a weight off your shoulders.

"I deal with a lot of shit," he suddenly said, your eyebrows pulling together in confusion. "Mentally. And that mixed with my work- I'm afraid of putting you through hell just because I'm selfish and want you," he told you with tears in his eyes. That’s what he’s afraid of? Putting his burdens on you? "I get so stuck in my head and I was in Japan and all I could think of was you and,” he sighed, looking into your eyes. “Fuck, Kid, I wanted to call you every moment I was gone. But that's for me, what am I giving you?" He shrugged hopelessly.

"You," you told him, your tears threatening to fall. "You're giving me you."

"And what's that worth?" His question shattered your heart. What's that worth?

"Baby, that's worth everything to me," you told him. "When you’re actually giving yourself to me, I feel more like myself. I feel braver and happier and-" looking back at the bouquet in his hands, you asked, "why tulips?"

He stalled for a moment, surprised by the question. "Right now?" Nodding at him, you bit back a grin. A faint smile appeared on his face, scoffing at himself. "Tulips can mean rebirth and forgiveness and true love, and I'm not saying we're in love,” he quickly backtracked. “I mean not yet, but we could be some day, and," he spoke slow but he was lost in his words, panicking over bringing up love, and the sight of him trying to find his way was enough to make you crack a smile. His speech faded out as he watched your face brighten just the slightest bit, a blush overtaking his plush cheeks. "I don't know what the fuck flowers mean, I don't know what I'm doing."

"That much is obvious," you teased, Yoongi letting out a single breathy chuckle at the comment.

"All I know how to do is care about you, Kid," he shrugged.

Tears forming in your eyes at his confession, you shook your head. "Then care about me."

"I'm trying," he told you, staring into your eyes. For a man who usually avoided eye contact, you were surprised by the sincerity he was trying to convey as he held your gaze. "I really am trying."

"I know," you nodded. And he was.  

"I wanted to protect you from me," he added, his orbs scanning your face. "But fuck, Kid, I can't stay away from you." You watched him thoughtfully as he spoke. "But when I saw the hurt in your face-" he paused to compose his emotions. "When you said you thought I left that morning," he shook his head. "That's when I first realized what I was doing to you."

"But you don't have to do that to me," you reminded him. "You don't have to protect me from you, I've told you I'm prepared to be with you regardless of your lifestyle and your work." Yoongi stared at you as you spoke, and you cocked your head at him. "I'm ok with the time apart and the late-night dates and the days where we can only fit a few texts in.”

“But are you ok with me? And everything that comes with me?” He asked. He was really asking, he needed the assurance.

“Of course, I am,” you told him definitively. “I want all of you. You don’t need to wear this mask around me, you don’t need to shield me from you. And you’re not the only one with demons,” you told him. “I want you and everything that comes with you. I’m just not ok with feeling like I'm always about to lose you."

"Baby," he whispered.

"I can't keep being afraid that every time you walk out the door, you might not come back," you whimpered, a tear falling down your cheek. "I need assurance too, I need to know you're in this with me as much as I am with you." Yoongi nodded quickly.

"If you want me here, I'm here," he assured you, sincerity coating his words.

"I want you here," you told him. Yoongi suddenly tossed the bouquet onto the table before approaching you. His arms wrapped around your body before you could react, your arms slowly folding over him, holding him close to you as he buried his face in your hair. You felt a kiss on the top of your head, your body responding by relaxing against his frame, turning your face to nuzzle it against his neck. "I'm sorry for the shit I said," you mumbled against his cool skin, still slightly cold from the night air.

"Don't apologize," he whispered into your hair.

"I didn't mean the mean shit," you added, Yoongi chuckling at the obvious pout on your lips.

"You were hardly mean, Kid," he told you, pulling away just a bit to look down at you with a soft smile, his eyes glistening in emotion.

“Well, I’ll never mean the mean shit,” you said with a small smile.

"I missed you,” he told you as he wiped the fallen tears off your cheeks.

"I missed you too," you whispered. “We were supposed to fight, you know,” you added teasingly.

“That wasn’t a fight?” He questioned in feigned surprise. “We still can if you want,” he playfully responded, his eyes widened humorously.

“You came in here trying to explain flower symbolization and I just couldn’t get mad at you,” you giggled, Yoongi smiling adorably just before pushing his lips to yours, giving you a sweet kiss. Before you could deepen it, he pulled away again.

"Yoshi or Mario?"

"What?” You questioned in utter confusion. “Min, I'm trying to make out with you," you complained with a look of dissatisfaction, Yoongi smiling fondly at the expression. With a sigh, you said, "Yoshi, obviously, what do you think I am, an idiot?" Yoongi laughed fully at the comment, his shoulders shaking as he flashed you that adorable gummy smile you were so obsessed with. "Why?" you asked through a small laugh, "what about you?"

"Honestly, I could not care less," he smiled, now your turn to laugh.

"I love that about you," you told him through your big grin.

"My roommate, Jin, thinks Mario is better," he told you, you raising your eyebrows in response. "I think you should come by the dorm to put him in his place. Maybe meet all the other guys too?"

You smiled widely as you nodded. "I'd love to," you said softly, Yoongi nodding before leaning in to kiss you again. "I mean, for Yoshi's honor," you whispered right before his lips pressed to yours.

"Of course," he giggled against your mouth. Pulling back just slightly, Yoongi stared at you for a moment, his eyes appreciating your every feature slowly, taking his time, as you did the same with him. Wrapping his arms around the back of your neck, he tugged you closer to him to hold you against his body once again. "Jin's a moron but remind me to thank him one of these days," he whispered against your temple.

"I will," you giggled. "But for what?"

"For having his shit together."

[hangekitty]

Birthday Special Headcanons

Birthday headcanons for @velvetheichou as it’s her birthday today!! So some of these may seem a little specific, but I did write it as an x reader for everyone else to enjoy!

Summary: it’s your birthday, your BF is Miche and you live with Levi and Erwin.

Genre: mostly fluff, mentions of smut

Warnings: swearing, alcohol, a couple NSFW headcanons, 18+

Universe: modern universe

A/N: this is only a short little thing for my IRL friend, I wrote this whilst getting ready for work so is it rushed? Yes I’m sorry, was this fun? Absolutely. Happy Birthday Amie 🌸🌙👑

Setting the scene: you live with Miche (your BF), Levi and Erwin (who are a couple) in a shared house. It’s your birthday and you have some surprises ahead of you...

- let’s start off with the main G, your doting BF waking you up with breakfast in bed. He would lay out a large spread filled with all your favourite things.

- Let’s face it, birthday sex would be a thing, but not till later because Levi and Erwin are waiting downstairs for you.

- Doesn’t stop Miche from being a little filthy with you (if you wanted it 👀)

- if the two of you did do the nasty, he would most certainly eat you out, 100% like it’s basically canon than he is great at head; you can’t convince me otherwise.

- Okay but like Miche would want to give you your birthday presents privately, guarantee he has bought you a dress or clothes that you’ve been wanting (and unable to afford). Miche would usually treat you to clothes any time of the year, but he’d make sure to get something extra special for your birthday.

- Miche has also bought you some pamper stuff (particularly Lush because Nanaba works there and gets discounts; means more products amirite)

- So after you shower and do your makeup, you put on your birthday gift (let’s say a dress), you go downstairs and Miche, Levi and Erwin are waiting for you, ready with party poppers. Levi and Erwin pop theirs, but Miche is way too in awe that he misses his queue

- Also can we appreciate the image of Levi popping a party popper, like he isn’t enthusiastic (he feels it, but he doesn’t show it)

- Levi would get you something that is specific to you, if you have a certain interest (or hyperfixation if we’re being honest) he would get you merch. Autographed picture from Lady Gaga? Band t-shirt? He’s got you that.

- Erwin, probably needed help the most from Levi and Miche to know what to get you. He would originally buy you something generic like a book, or a box set from a TV show you’ve never seen. So after talking the others, Erwin would go out his way to buy concert tickets. Let’s say,,,Download? Miche would get his own ticket ofc

- So basicaly the boys arrange a birthday party for you, during the day you get up to whatever you want; shopping trip? Miche will treat you to whatever you want. Trip to the cinema? You pick the movie, and as much as you insist on paying for your own ticket and/or food Miche will pay. This mans goal is to give you the best day.

- In the late afternoon, you go to your favourite restaurant, ordering whatever you like. Depending on how expensive the day is, you will probably pay towards the bill (mainly out of guilt, you wouldn’t want to make Miche broke)

- It’s romantic, candlelit and seated by the window; you watch the sunset as you eat the best damn thing in your life.

- At the party; so all of your friends are invited, even friends of Erwin and Levi; let’s just say it’s crowded to say the least.

- The playlist fucking slaps, not only is a mixture of your playlist and everyone’s requests, you have the special addition of anime music to which Erwin is like huh?? And Levi is like 🙄 but it’s your party and you can totally play Judgement from the DMCB soundtrack if you want to

- Miche brings out a cake with candles (as many candles as your age) for you to blow out, all of the party guests sing to you and cheer as you blow out the candles.

- Hange probably already started drinking, so you can hear them louder than anyone else.

- The cake is delicious of course, but the fact that there are so many paper plates around, it puts Levi on edge and he will most definitely be doing the tidying up.

- Alcohol, lots of it

- Of course as soon as a bit of Alcohol reaches Miche’s lips he is outside smoking a cig

- Nile is out there with him, but he’s a bit of a chain smoker anyway

- The look on Levi’s face when Erwin tries a cig, he definitely struggles and coughs every time

- “No, Erwin you cannot request Piano Man by Billy Joel”

- “No, Erwin, Country Roads it off limits too - at least until we get more pissed then MAYBE”

- Levi doesn’t get drunk, he is the baby sitter after all, but will probs have a glass of wine to last him the night

- Erwin doesn’t get too drunk either, but he is definitely the one with the champagne

- Miche gets tipsy but not,,,terrible lmao

- Hange however, whew goes fucking feral. If they aren’t dancing and doing slut drops, they are hornee and will attempt to drunkenly seduce Moblit who is FAR TOO DRUNK for any of that.

- There will definitely be some party games like the ring of fire, drunk charades and an ATTEMPT at musical chairs, but at this point, most guests are too far gone for that; again, putting Levi on edge and making sure no one hurts themselves.

- The night ends with Hange and Moblit staying in the guest bedroom because they drank the most, Levi and Erwin going to bed mostly sober so Levi can perform his nightly routine; I can totally see him having a whole pamper sesh before he gets into bed.

- You go to bed, the room slightly spinning and you can feel your whole body in waves; this hangover is going to be too much. Luckily superhero Miche is there with the water and some toast/bread. “Eat this before you sleep, you’ll be grateful in the morning”

- The last few moments of consciousness is spent cuddling into Miche’s chest. “Happy Birthday my sweet”

[dovechim]

free delivery not included (m)

➾ 7.1k

➾ summary: the premise is simple, really. you’ve been wanting to have a baby ever since you and your husband got married three years ago. Dr Kim Namjoon is the top fertility specialist in town who boasts a 100% success rate. the thing is, your husband has given up on trying to have children, so you find yourself visiting Dr Kim Namjoon in secret, only to realise that his methods are slightly unorthodox. 

➾ warnings: mentions of infidelity and cheating, use of medical equipment (speculum), unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), impregnation, creampies, unprofessional behaviour from a medical professional, dirty talk involving humiliation

➾ a/n: a long time ago i said i was doing a fic for every member with this breeding kink and i didn’t know what i was getting myself into... a long time later, here is namjoon’s part :”) huge thanks goes to @jimlingss for as usual hearing my ideas out and hyping me up to write. i’ve been struggling with trying to like my own writing again but having kina’s support really meant a lot. of course, having all of you patient enough to wait for me is a huge motivating factor as well. without further ado, enjoy :) 

Nerves are fluttering in your stomach as you take a queue number from the receptionist and seat yourself in the waiting room. This is most definitely not where you’d ever expect yourself to end up. Casting a quick glance around the room, you surreptitiously turn your wedding ring around so that the diamond on it is hidden and less conspicuous. Everyone else in the waiting room is here with their spouse; you are the only one alone and its painfully obvious.

“______?” The voice comes out of nowhere and jolts you out of your self-conscious worrying.

You spring out of your seat and nod to the receptionist as she directs you to the door at the end of the hallway. Feeling multiple curious eyes on your back, you read the sign on the door before knocking.

Dr Kim Namjoon

Fertility Specialist

“Come in,” a pleasant, timbre voice answers and you slip inside, only to be greeted by a man in tortoiseshell glasses, his blonde hair pushed off his forehead. He motions for you to sit down with a welcoming smile, and his warm presence already puts you a little more at ease.

You smile nervously at him as you take your seat in front of him, adjusting your skirt and tugging it a tad lower to avoid any form of eye contact with the handsome doctor.

“So, _____, what can I do for you today?” Dr Kim smiles as he rests his forearms on the desk, leaning forward. When he smiles his dimples are so prominent that it takes your breath away a little. 

You can feel his attention focused on you, and for some reason this makes you even more nervous, so you drop your gaze down to your hands in your lap, absentmindedly playing with your wedding band in order to keep your nerves at bay. But then you remember that you’re also drawing attention to the fact that you’re married and here without your husband, so you immediately cover your left hand with your right. It’s too late though, with a tiny glance up, you catch Dr Kim’s gaze on your hands in your lap.

Clearing your throat, you pray that he doesn’t ask too many questions. “I-I’m here with concerns. A-about my fertility. I want to have a baby.”

Dr Kim chuckles pleasantly. “Well then, we’ll see what we can do about that. Just some questions for me to get a better sense of where you are in your journey to have a baby. How long have you been trying to get pregnant?”

He whips out a yellow legal pad and a pen to begin taking down notes, and without his piercing caramel eyes on you, you relax slightly; your heartrate slows down and the room in general feels less stuffy.

“I’ve been trying for three years,” you say in a near whisper, automatically wincing for the onflood of sympathy that you’ve come to expect whenever you tell someone about this.

But Dr Kim only nods once as he notes it down. “I see. And have you gone for any medical checkups in the past year? Anything of interest regarding your medical history I should know about?”

“No, I’m all clear,” you are now watching his fountain pen glide across the pages of his notepad with grace and ease, and before you can stop yourself, your eyes travel to the slim grip of his fingers.

“What about your… partner? That is, I’m assuming you have one,” Dr Kim looks up briefly to give you a smile.

“He’s also gone for tests and checkups,” you lace your fingers tightly together, thinking about your loving husband. “But the doctor said there’s no problem with either of us. I just… I don’t know why it’s taking so long. We’re both so desperate… I’mso desperate to have a baby.”

Your voice cracks slightly as emotion wells up in you, and you take a deep breath to center yourself again. “Dr Kim, I heard that you’re the top notch fertility specialist in town. My husband has lost all faith in us ever having a baby so he’s given up hope… he doesn’t know I’m here today. Please, can you help us?”

Dr Kim finishes his notes with a flourish, then he puts down his pen and looks up with a reassuring smile. “First of all, ____, I deeply sympathise with your struggles over the past three years. I know how incredibly emotional and difficult it can be to face such issues, and especially over such a long period of time. You are a very strong and determined woman to come here alone today without your husband. It shows that you don’t give up hope for something that you truly want, and for that I really admire you.”

His words take the tension out of your shoulders and sets you more at ease. You’d read articles about this man online, seen pictures of him even, but in real life he looks even more suave and breathtaking. Every single action and word of his is fuelled by a quiet confidence, a professionalism that is warm and reassuring.

“Over here, we have a 100% success rate with all of our procedures,” Dr Kim goes on. “We are proud to be the first fertility clinic that carries our own supply of sperm curated from our sperm bank.”

“Th-that’s amazing, Dr Kim” you nod as he hands you a brochure, but your eyes are fixed on his handsome smile.

“Please, call me Namjoon. I hope you can be more at ease with me. I want all my patients to think of me as a close friend,” Namjoon pushes his glasses up. “I can definitely help you with having a baby… but first I’d like to ask you what approach you prefer to take.”

You hesitate as you turn over the brochure in your hands. “Approach? What do you mean by that?”

“Well, I have several suggestions to help you conceive,” Namjoon says as he points to a list of options on the back of the brochure. “Firstly, IVF. In Vitro Fertilisation, a popular but very costly procedure that can take up to one year to show results. Seeing as you mention your husband not wanting to try any more medical approaches… I think it would be difficult for you to convince him to commit to this.”

“No, you’re right,” you sigh as you read over the estimated cost stated on the brochure. “Not only that, we just don’t have the means to afford that kind of procedure right now.”

Namjoon nods in understanding, and he directs your attention to the next option on the page. “No worries, let’s move on. The second option we have here is sperm donation, the most popular option for most of my patients. This treatment requires a healthy egg, which you definitely fit the requirement of. Like I mentioned before, we have our very own sperm bank here in the clinic, and once you make your decision, after a brief checkup, you can choose to have your first donation as soon as today. That is, if you’re deemed to be ovulating and fertile, of course.”

Your heart skips a beat. “Today? But that’s so soon! I mean, I’d love to see results as soon as possible, but my husband…”

“Ah, yes, he doesn’t know that you’re here, does he?” He shakes his head slightly in apology. “Forgive me if I’m stepping over the line here, but from a medical professional’s perspective, seeing as you and him have been trying to conceive for three years, it might be that your egg and his sperm simply aren’t compatible. If the both of you have gone for fertility checkups, and nothing abnormal has shown up…”

Namjoon’s voice trails off, and he looks at you to gauge your reaction.

“Actually…” your voice is hesitant as you meet his gaze. “I’ve come to that same conclusion myself. And before I came here today, I told myself to be open to the idea of getting sperm from another man. It’s just that… I don’t know how he would take it. Obviously he might not be very open to the idea, so that’s why I came here today without telling him.”

“I see.” Namjoon’s face is completely expressionless except for the muscle that jumps in his clenched cheek as he leans back in his chair. “Do I take it that you wish to receive a sperm donation today? Without your husband knowing?”

His question lingers in the air for a few moments. Your husband can’t possibly blame you for doing this. You’ve been trying for three years with no luck. Maybe it just wasn’t fated for you to have a baby with him. Why should you be deprived of the experience of motherhood just because of fate?

“He really, really wants a baby too,” you say, fully aware that you’re not answering his question. “If this goes on much longer, if I don’t get pregnant soon… he might end up leaving me for some beautiful, young and fertile twenty something.”

“I highly doubt that,” Namjoon shakes his head and holds up his hands. “Excuse me for being inappropriate, but any man who would leave someone like you is an idiot. You’re far too gorgeous for that to happen. And from what I can tell, you’re a strong and determined woman who knows what she wants too. It would only be a loss on his part, believe me.”

His smooth words and charming smile only make the butterflies in your stomach worse. “Dr- Namjoon… you’re used to complimenting women, aren’t you? Is that how you became the top fertility specialist here?”

He lets out a loud chuckle. “My patients feel right at home with me, and what can I say? I know women… intimately. Women like you deserve to be told how beautiful they are, and you deserve to be treated right too.”

Namjoon’s double entendre makes your heart pound in your chest. “You know… you really remind me of my husband. He could sweet talk his way into anyone’s life. That’s pretty much how I fell in love with him… and that’s why I’m worried. A charming and sweet man like you must definitely have a lot of women fawning over him.”

For the first time since the appointment began, you see Namjoon blush a little as he glances away for a moment. It seems like he is not used to being on the opposite side of receiving compliments, but the shy side of him is absolutely adorable. Namjoon pushes his glasses up on his nose a little, and he scratches his neck.

“That’s a wonderful compliment, thank you,” he manages to smile professionally, but only just. “I’m sure your husband knows how lucky he is to have such a wonderful wife like you. But if you’re really worried about that… let me help you. Personally, I want to make sure you have a nice and healthy baby, one that looks just as beautiful and is as kind as you.”

Elation lights up your face as you reach forward to grasp his hands involuntarily. “Thank you so much, Dr Kim!”

Namjoon holds both of your hands in his as he stands, motioning you over to the chair in the corner. “I’ll just do a quick checkup to determine where you are in your cycle right now, and then we can discuss options for the sperm donation. There’s a gown on the back of the chair, if you could just slip off your bottoms and put that on? I’ll give you some privacy.”

Namjoon draws the curtain and leaves you alone to change. Once the curtains are drawn, you slip off your pencil skirt and underwear, putting on the gown that comes down to your knee. When you’re done, you call out to Namjoon again, and he parts the curtain.

“Just hop up there for me will you?” Namjoon holds out his hand toward the chair.

You feel his hand on your waist helping you into the slightly high chair, and he directs your legs into the stirrups that go on either side. Namjoon’s warm hands secure your legs in a comfortable position as he checks in with you frequently. Your legs are now spread wide, and you are aware that your gown has ridden up all the way to your upper thigh.

“When was your last period?” Namjoon is washing his hands over at the sink and pulling on some gloves. He grabs a large container of what you assume must be some kind of lubrication before he pushes a wheeled chair over.

“Um, about… two weeks ago?” You hazard a guess, confirming after you check your period tracking app on your phone. “Exactly two weeks ago.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” Namjoon raises his eyebrows in surprise. “That means you could be ovulating right now. I’ll know when I examine your cervix and your discharge, but let me just take a quick blood sample and send that off to the nurses just to be sure.”

He comes over to your side and takes your wrist gently, cleaning your skin with an alcohol wipe before drawing a vial of blood from your arm in the blink of an eye. It doesn’t even hurt, considering the fact that you are deathly afraid of needles, because all through it Namjoon keeps your attention on him with his gentle and soothing voice, and that charming smile of his.

“Let me get that sent off…” Namjoon is frowning in concentration as he scribbles something onto a label and sticks it onto your blood sample before he parts the curtains. A second later he is back again, and he positions himself in between your legs, a gentle touch on your calf. “Results should take about 20 minutes. Meanwhile, let’s see what’s going on here, shall we?”

“That fast?” You comment in surprise. From this angle all you can focus on is how the handsome doctor looks in between your legs, and his warm touch on your skin. “Wow. Technology sure is advanced these days.”

“Sure is,” Namjoon laughs in agreement. “Now just relax for me… I’m going to part your lips now and take a look.”

You can feel Namjoon spreading your lips with two fingers as he peers closely at you, and a heated blush is on your cheeks. You feel extremely exposed in front of this handsome doctor, even more so as his fingers brush across your slit, and you realise that he doesn’t even need any lube at this point. You’re about to hastily come up with some explanation as to why you’re this wet all on your own, but Namjoon saves you the trouble.

“Very nice, there’s some clear discharge indicative of ovulation,” Namjoon smiles as he gently collects some of it on his gloved fingers, showing it to you. “See how it’s so stringy? When I pull my fingers apart it doesn’t break easily. Kind of looks like egg whites.”

You feel his fingers part your lips again and this time, they are probing at your entrance.

“I’m going to slide two fingers in this time, it’s going to go deep so that I can feel your cervix. Tell me if you feel any discomfort, alright?” Namjoon smiles at you before his head disappears between your legs again, and two of his long, slim fingers enter you.

His fingers might have looked slim just now when you were eyeing them, but when they’re deep inside you, you feel a stretch that isn’t uncomfortable, but definitely something to get used to. Your instinct is to clench your walls around his fingers; at this point you just want him to stroke that special spot inside you. You can feel that you are drenching his fingers with your arousal, so there’s no pretending that you aren’t turned on. It must be because of your ovulation that you’re this horny just from getting an examination.

“Relax, you’re clenching really tight around me,” Namjoon’s voice comes off as a relaxed laugh, and you immediately make an effort to relax. “Has it been some time since you had intercourse? You feel really tense.”

“Um, no it hasn’t,” you say truthfully. “My- my husband and I had sex just this week. A few days ago.”

“Hmm,” Namjoon hums under his breath as he withdraws his fingers a tad. “Then you must be naturally tense. I need to examine your cervix, so I’m going to use a speculum. It might feel a little cold and the stretch might hurt a little, but bear with me.”

Namjoon pulls his fingers out, and your breath comes out all at once at the loss. He turns around and ducks out to grab the needed equipment, returning a moment later with a metal contraption. You’ve had speculums inserted before at previous checkups, so it’s no big deal.

He pours some lubrication onto the part that will be inserted in you, and you try your best to relax for him. With one hand on your inner thigh holding you steady, Namjoon slides the speculum into you, and goes deeper until it nudges at your cervix. Then, he starts to turn the screw on the side so that it begins to spread your walls open slowly, until he gets a clear view of your cervix.

Being spread apart like this and allowing someone else that isn’t your husband to see the most intimate parts of you only adds to the overwhelming rush of arousal that you feel right now. On one hand you feel incredibly immature, having a crush on your fertility doctor and wishing he would just help you with your problem personally, but the more primal part of you argues that it’s perfectly reasonable. This man right here is tall, fit and good looking, he’s smart on top of all that. Why shouldn’t he be the one to give you a baby?

“All looks great here, you are most definitely ovulating, _____,” Namjoon’s voice brings you back to the present. “Cervix is soft and open, so a donation today will greatly increase your chances of success. But we can discuss that more in detail when you’re more comfortable.”

“What do you mean? I’m perfectly comfortable with a thick metal rod in me,” your joke makes him laugh as he places a hand on your inner thigh, closing the speculum and removing it from you.

With some tissue he cleans you up, wiping away some of the lube and your arousal that had smeared on your inner thigh. His gesture feels so intimate and personal that you can’t help but feel the intense desire to feel his fingers without the rubber gloves, or to feel something else of his inside you.

Namjoon glances up as he disposes of the tissue. “I’ll give you a moment, I’ll just be outside and we can discuss the sperm donor that you want.”

He slips out of the curtains, and you pull down the gown, fanning your hot cheeks as you wipe the beads of sweat from your face. Getting down from the chair carefully, you push aside the curtains, leaving your skirt off as you sit in the same chair.

Namjoon is looking through a document. “Good news, the blood test results are in. You are, in fact at the peak of ovulation now. You came at just the right time, ____.”

“Can I really get a donation right now?” You ask as Namjoon turns to type something into his computer, having shed his rubber gloves.

“Of course! In fact, as your doctor I would highly recommend you do it today. If not, you would have to wait until next month,” Namjoon says. After a moment’s consideration, he adds on, “and since you told me you and your husband just had sex recently, it would be reasonable to convince him that it is his child you’re carrying.”

There is a weighted pause as the consequences of what you’re about to do sinks in. You’re at a fertility clinic, ovulating and about to receive a sperm donation from a complete stranger. Then you’re going to go home and in a few weeks, tell your husband that you’re pregnant with his baby.

You take a deep breath. “Alright. I’ll do it today. What are the options for sperm donors?”

“Here at our clinic, we use fresh sperm samples, we never freeze them. This is to allow for maximum success rate for our patients. I can open up the database of donors that we currently have fresh samples from, and you can take a look and choose from there,” Namjoon says as he types at his keyboard, scrolling through and clicking a few times. There is a slight frown on his face as he opens a few files.

“Is something wrong, Namjoon?”

“No, no, it’s just…” Namjoon pauses to type a few more things and hits enter with a look of frustration on his face. “It’s very strange. Somehow, our database only has one donor right now. I’m not sure if this is an error, because we ensure that we have at least 20 donors at any one time…”

“Who’s the one sperm donor?” You ask out of curiosity.

“It’s a Jeon Jungkook, 50 years old with a Bachelor’s Degree at… Hogwarts Witchcraft and Wizardry…” Namjoon looks at your troubled expression and clears his throat, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I thought so too. Let me just make some calls and check if there are any other donors.”

The normally cool and composed fertility specialist looks a little frantic as he picks up his desk phone and starts to dial a number, but then you put your hands over his.

“Namjoon, it’s okay. I decided which donor I want,” you give him a confident smile as he looks up in surprise, slowly putting down the phone.

“What? You want… a 50 year old man?” Namjoon shakes his head in confusion. “Who graduated from Hogwarts?”

“No. I want you to be my sperm donor, Dr Kim.”

A shocked silence settles in between the two of you for a moment as Namjoon’s eyes widen. “B-but that would mean… your husband. You don’t want him to know right?”

“That’s right. I want my husband to think the baby is his. But in reality, it would be your baby,” you withdraw your hands from Namjoon’s and sit back in your chair. “To be honest, Doctor, I’ve been attracted to you the moment I walked in. I want my baby to be as smart as you. I hope you can give me a baby boy that will look exactly like you.”

Before the doctor can say anything else, you go on.

“You said you only use fresh samples here at the clinic right? Without any freezing,” you recall his words from earlier. “It’s just… today is the perfect day for me to get a sperm sample,” you direct your gaze at his lips with a small sigh as you say this, completely committed to your role now. “I don’t see why we should let this opportunity go to waste. You can give me a fresh sperm sample right here and right now.”

“_____, I- I don’t know what to say… your husband…” Namjoon fumbles over his words; he has trouble looking you in the eye. “A-are you saying you want me to inseminate you? Is that really what you want? Tell me.”

You stand up from your seat and make your way around the table so that you are standing beside his chair. “Yes, Doctor. I want you to give me the baby my husband couldn’t. I want to have yourbaby.”

You slide your body into his lap, feeling the crisp material of his dress pants on your thighs as Namjoon’s arms circle your waist to help you sit on him properly. His thighs feel firm under you, and his mouth is now dangerously close to your neck. You can feel his body is tense under yours, a sharp intake of breath at your words.

“Is that so? What an unfaithful wife you are.” Namjoon admonishes you, and his breath ghosts over your skin. “Asking another man to give her a baby. Tell me, has anyone other than your husband fucked you before?”

“No, not even once,” your breath is speeding up now as Namjoon caresses your waist tenderly, bidding you to spread your thighs slightly to get more comfortable on his lap. “I love my husband. I really do. But I just want a baby so bad. I’d do anything.”

“Who am I to deny such a beautiful woman the experience of motherhood?” Namjoon hums under his breath, kissing the skin just behind your ear. “If a gorgeous woman such as you says she wants a baby, then it’s my duty not only as a doctor to obey… but as a man too.”

“Please…” you can feel your thighs getting slick with your arousal, and Namjoon helps you onto your feet.

“We have to do this the proper way, to ensure maximum success rate,” Namjoon directs you to the chair again, and draws the curtains firmly shut. “Thankfully, you’re my last patient today, so we can take as long as we like. By the time you walk out of this clinic, you’ll definitely be pregnant.”

You lie back in the chair with his help, not missing the way his hands are soft and gentle, making sure your head is supported against the headrest, and your legs are comfortably spread in each stirrup. From your vantage point, you can see Namjoon begin to take off his white doctor’s coat and reveal his white dress shirt and black pants underneath, but you stop him.

“Doctor, please keep it on,” you say, reaching out to grab his wrist. “I always had a thing for the whole hospital fantasy.”

Namjoon relents, turning around as he palms the growing bulge in his dress pants. “Does your husband know about this… fantasy?”

“No,” you answer truthfully as your eyes drop to take in the tent at the front of his pants. “No, he doesn’t know. Doctor, why don’t you make yourself more comfortable? It looks like you haven’t been able to… let go of some tension for a while.”

“What would your husband say if he saw you now? On your back with your legs spread… about to get a baby fucked into you by her fertility specialist,” Namjoon tsks under his breath as he situates himself between your legs, stroking your thighs softly. “What a pretty pussy too. Just begging to be eaten.”

“He- he would never find out,” you gasp and your back comes off the chair as Namjoon’s head disappears in between your legs, and you feel his tongue against your inner thigh. His fingers spread your lips again the way he did before, and then he is giving you open mouthed kisses directly against your clit, making your thighs shake and tremble.

You can’t see anything with the gown in the way, so with one hand you push it up to your waist. Namjoon’s blonde hair in between your thighs greets you, but the man himself is busy stroking his tongue against your clit, your juices all over his chin.

“So fucking sweet. I must say, I’ve never had the privilege to taste any of my patients before, but I bet you’re the sweetest of them all,” Namjoon places his thumb on your clit in slow circles, making eye contact with you before his tongue slides into your pussy.

Watching your fertility doctor eat you out like this must be a dream, you feel as if you’re in heaven especially when Namjoon switches to suckling your clit, and pushes two fingers deep in you. His fingers are long and nimble, hitting your sweet spot exactly right, and the delicious friction from his mouth just about sends you over the edge.

But just before you feel the knot in your lower belly snap, Namjoon pulls away with a satisfied smile, licking his lips and wiping the back of his chin with his hand.

“No cumming yet. You’ll conceive better if you orgasm with my cum right up against your cervix.” Namjoon knows exactly what a tease he’s being as he begins to unbuckle his belt, lowering his zipper and feeling the immense pressure against his cock subside just a little.

The sight of his cock awakens your desperation all over again. He is blessed both in length and girth; you surmise that the fertility specialist must be just as excited to give you a baby as you are, seeing as his cock is already fully hard. You feel a flutter of nerves as Namjoon strokes his cock and positions himself in between your legs. Trying to remember how big your husband’s cock is so that you can compare it to Namjoon’s is futile. All you can concentrate on is Namjoon as he fondles your clit, pushing three fingers inside you to prepare you.

“Please, doctor,” you push your hips toward him as a protest. Your eyes lower to his cock, already red and leaking, wishing you could wrap your hand around him and feel how warm and heavy he is. “It’s been so… hardfor me to have a baby. Please help me and my husband.”

“Don’t worry, just lie back and let me do all the work,” Namjoon pushes his underwear down, giving himself a few strokes and hissing in pleasure. His cock is engorged and angry, precum already dripping from the tip onto your inner thigh.

You can feel the head of his cock nudge against your lower lips, and your stomach tenses in excitement of finally feeling him inside you. “You feel so much bigger than my husband… fuck. A cock like that is sure to give me a baby… not like my pathetic husband.”

Namjoon places his hands on your thighs, hooking them around his waist as he begins to push the tip of his cock into you. The expression on his face is strained, his jaw is clenched at your words. The lubrication of your arousal and his precum allows him to slide in easily, but the stretch makes you wince and Namjoon swears under his breath.

“Fuck, such a tight pussy. I suspected so when I examined you just now, but it seems like even the speculum couldn’t loosen you up enough hmm?” Namjoon pauses for a moment to give you time to adjust, even though he’s barely even an inch deep. “Looks like your useless husband hasn’t been fucking you properly, or else you wouldn’t still be this tight.”

“Please fuck me properly then,” you hook your ankles around his back in an attempt to get his cock even deeper. “Show me how much better you are compared to my husband. When he fucked me I could barely even feel it.”

“Oh, you’ll feel this one alright,” Namjoon agrees with a laugh and a deep thrust of his hips that sends his cock halfway into your depths. Your walls are stretched to accommodate him, but you only urge him on, anxious to feel him all the way. Namjoon accedes to your whines and withdraws just a tad, then fucks you deep until he is buried balls deep in your pussy.

Namjoon leans over the chair to smooth a strand of hair out of your face as he presses a hand to your abdomen. “See this? I can feel my cock all the way here. Could your pathetic little husband do this?”

The veneer of professionalism is gone now as the filthy words begin to pour from his mouth. His hand is on your lower belly, where there is a slight bump from his cock being so deep inside you, and you gasp when he brings your hand down to feel it too. Never have you been penetrated so deep before, and yet the thickness of his cock leaves you almost breathless as Namjoon applies a light pressure on your lower belly.

“This is where I’ll be when I cum,” Namjoon strokes the soft skin of your belly. “Right up against your womb. Giving you a nice load of fresh sperm. Unlike your husband, I am perfectly healthy to fuck a baby into you. No pathetic weak shots of cum. No, my loads are so thick, you’ll feel every spurt against your soft, ripe little cervix.”

“Fuck me please,” you are begging, the torture of just feeling his thick length embedded inside you without even moving is getting to be too much. You attempt to push your hips against him just to feel some friction, but Namjoon’s strength pins you down to the chair. “Give me a baby.”

Namjoon pulls out and sinks back in so fast that your thighs twitch around him, hugging him closer and begging for him to go deeper and harder. Slaps of skin against skin begin to echo around the room, and soon you can feel how wet you are, dripping down your ass and completely soaking Namjoon’s heavy balls that are slapping against you.

“Yeah? You want a baby?” Namjoon’s thrusts are heavy, punishing, as if you deserve it for being such and unfaithful wife who would ask another man to give her a baby. “Whose baby do you want? Your husband’s?”

His cock seems to be splitting you apart. Your pussy is crying for relief, yet you want more of his brutal fucking. Every thrust brings his cock head right to the entrance of your womb, tapping your cervix gently as he reminds you where his cum will end up. When you don’t answer, Namjoon stops thrusting as a punishment.

“Tell me, whose baby do you want?” Namjoon asks again, rubbing his thumb against your clit and making you cry out. “You want your husband to give you a baby?”

“No!” You scream, body thrashing under him, and legs tightening around his slim waist. “I want yours. I want your baby, Doctor Kim.”

Satisfied with your answer, Namjoon resumes thrusting, abandoning his grip around your thighs as he circles your slim waist with his hands to pull you onto his cock. “This flat belly is going to be so round. Even after you’re pregnant, you’re going to keep coming back here aren’t you? Because you can’t resist a good fuck, and no one other than me can give you that.”

“Please, pl-ease,” you voice is barely there, your throat is dry. “Please keep fucking me. Even after you give me a baby.”

Namjoon chuckles as his cock sinks in deep, and he feels your walls flutter around him. “I’ll consider it after sales service for my best patient.”

You can feel your orgasm right there, just out of reach. Your clit is swollen and abused, throbbing just for a little friction that would send you over the edge. Fucked out and completely at his mercy, Namjoon places your legs back on the stirrups, spread wide as they can go as he continues with his punishing thrusts.

“Consider yourself lucky, _____” Namjoon’s thrusts are faltering as he swears under his breath. “I haven’t jerked off in nearly two weeks. You’re getting a huge load today. I hope you’re ready to get pregnant.”

You watch his sweaty face as he pushes his hair off his forehead, glasses slightly askew. His cheeks are rosy with exertion, and you want nothing more than to kiss his plush lips. “I’ve been ready for the past three years, Doctor. I want it. Give me all your cum and give me the baby I always wanted.”

Namjoon seems to want to say something else, but decides against it as he devotes the rest of his energy into his thrusts, pumping his cock in and out of you as you feel him start to twitch against your walls. The composure on his face is slowly slipping away as he pants hard against your skin, leaning over to support himself on the arm rests on either side of you as he fucks you good and deep.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, I can’t hold off much longer,” Namjoon is panting hard as he groans with exertion and pleasure. “Here it comes. Ahhhh, fuuuuck. Take it all. Take all my fucking cum!”

You gasp as he buries his cock to the hilt, feeling him hit your cervix hard one last time as he explodes. Rope after rope of warm cum drenches your womb, and you can feel his cock pulsing as he gives you every drop of his seed. After the first ten or so strong pulses of semen, it starts to slow down a little, and Namjoon thrusts in and out gently, making sure the last few spurts of cum still get as deep as possible.

It feels so wet and warm that you can’t help but relax as your pussy tightens around him to drain him dry. You can’t tell if Namjoon filled you up so much that you’re already leaking his cum, or if it’s just your arousal. Namjoon is still lazily thrusting away in your pussy, and his slower, gentler pace feels nice, but not quite what you need to reach your own orgasm.

After a minute or two, Namjoon slowly pulls out, making sure none of the cum escapes your pussy. He immediately reaches for a setting on the chair to tilt it backwards so that your hips are escalated slightly, and he secures your legs in the stirrups, making sure they’re still spread.

“We doing okay?” He comes over to stroke your hair and wipe away some of the smeared mascara on your cheek.

“I’m fine, doctor,” your eyes are closed and you are savouring the feeling of being warm and full of cum. Your pussy is still throbbing.

“Let me get you cleaned up,” Namjoon’s voice is soft as he moves away, fully aware that you haven’t cum yet.

To your surprise, a moment later you feel something metallic being inserted into your pussy again, and you open your eyes. Namjoon is back between your legs, and you realise that he’s putting the speculum back inside you and widening it so that he can see your cum drenched cervix once more.

“Just making sure you absorb all of that cum,” Namjoon reassures you with his ever gentle, reassuring hands on your skin. “Close your eyes and enjoy yourself, _____. Let me take care of everything.”

Namjoon positions himself so that he can see the flood of white cum coating your insides, and the pool of his semen just lying there. Your cervix is doing its best to soak it all up, but a little help wouldn’t hurt. Stroking your thighs gently, he places his thumb on your clit and rubs it in circles at the pace he knows you like, and sure enough, your body tenses up and your legs shake in the stirrups.

“You’re so close aren’t you?” Namjoon keeps his voice low, reaching for a medical sample jar that he had used to catch all the cum that spilled out when he inserted the speculum into your swollen pussy. He unwraps a sterile syringe to draw up the rest of the cum inside the jar. “Just need a few strokes to cum. Good girl. That’s my good girl… just relax and cum for me.”

His fingers speed up over your clit, and his eyes are drawn to the fascinating sight that is your cervix. With every tightening of your walls, your cervix is expanding and contracting, greedily swallowing down all of his cum so that the pool of semen inside you grows less and less. When you orgasm with a small whine of his name, toes curling and thighs shaking, Namjoon squirts the contents of the syringe into your womb, emptying it thoroughly as he drops a kiss on your knee.

As you calm down from your orgasm, Namjoon watches to make sure the pool of cum inside you is more or less swallowed down by your greedy cervix, before he unscrews the speculum and eases it out of you. He glances up at your face and your eyelids are droopy, chest rising up and down slowly as he helps you get your legs out of the stirrups and places them together on the chair.

“You did so well, that’s my good girl,” Namjoon comes around to kiss your forehead and stroke your cheek. “I think that’ll do it. Just rest here for a few minutes.”

“Come here baby,” you stretch out your hands for a hug, and Namjoon obliges. “How was that? Was my acting good enough?”

“Almost too real,” Namjoon admits with a laugh. “You really got me worked up there with that whole ‘my husband doesn’t know’ thing. When I said surprise me, I didn’t expect you to come up with such an elaborate scheme. I mean, you really went all the way with that roleplay!”

“So you were really shocked to see me walk in here?” You let go of him with a devious grin on your face. But then another though occurs to you. “Wait. 50 year old Mr Jeon Jungkook from Hogwarts? Did you make that up too?”

“Unfortunately I didn’t make that donor up. I think it’s a real error in our database. Probably some stupid young punk who wanted to make a quick buck and troll us at the same time…” Namjoon sighs as he shakes his head and adjusts his glasses, mumbling to himself about the calls he needs to make and the people he needs to sack. A second later, he frowns. “You’re lucky that you really are my last patient. And the whole ovulation thing- did you plan that too?”

“I thought you would have noticed since you got a notification about my ovulation on the app… but this morning you just left for work like normal,” you sit up in your chair and face him, watching his face dawn with realisation.

“Wait, that means… do you… really want to have a baby with me?” Namjoon takes your hand in his, barely able to conceal his excitement. “You’re finally ready?”

“We’ve been married for almost three years so if I don’t pop out like… ten babies for you, people are going to be doubting your capabilities,” you shrug nonchalantly, but there is a genuine smile on your face. “I’m doing it for the sake of your professional career, that’s all. And also, it’s nice to have a qualified specialist taking care of me for free.”

Namjoon is still shocked at your revelation, but he sees right through your wry comment. “I guess not everything in roleplay has to be just pretend. I’m Dr Kim Namjoon after all, and I always keep my promises.” He puts his arm around you and presses a kiss to the top of your head, one hand resting on your lower belly. “I might get you pregnant for free, but I charge for delivery.”

[guigz1-coldwar]

'Promises & a white tiger' : New chapter for "Always for the greater cause..." is out !

Chapter Summary: Promises are spoken about between some people as Bell & the team is leaving East-Berlin to see what's on the other side of the Iron Curtain...right into the US.

To read it on AO3, click here!

Taglist: @snowgoldwaylon , @clxudtea , @efingart

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24th February 1981

Bellamy Petrov, Perseus

Hotel room in the Palasthotel, East-Berlin

The awakening was a bit hard for me to endure when I opened my eyes and getting greeted by the blinding light of the sun, my brain still trying to process and remember what I did last night with Portnova and the first thing I could see was seeing myself drinking with her when we arrived here in that hotel room before making love on the bed. Nonetheless, I gasped from that, as I was almost looking shit as if Knight punched me in the face for real but it was just me, still feeling the drunkenness in my body...dammit...

I was only wearing a pair of boxers under the sheets, nothing covering my chest & my legs as my clothes were all gathered around on a pile near the side of my bed. Portnova, at her side, was sleeping well, looking away from me and I let her be, knowing that she was better like this & not wanting to disturb her...and get stabbed by surprise as she was the type of person that could do that. Better to leave her waking up on her own. With that in mind, I decided to take my clothes and dress up.

"You're already leaving?" I stopped myself while I was putting on my jeans as I heard Portnova's muffled voice behind me.

"Oh, no, not at all, love," I reassured her, resuming to put on the jeans, making some little noises with them.

"So, why are you dressing up?" She asked me, hearing her move from her side and when I slowly turned my head around after getting my jeans, she was sitting on the bed, using the sheets to cover her top, having crossed her legs and her eyes were narrowing at me. "Always been like you, right, Bellamy?" She added, slightly slide her head on the left.

"Come on, don't start," I mumbled, taking in my hands my black shirt.

"Always saying beautiful & flirty things, making love and then disappear in the morning, only leaving a little note for me," She said, refuting my suggestion to not speak about it, having launched a hot topic between us.

"Portnova, I'm not like that, you know that," I tried to protest, moving my head away from her to focus on getting my shirt on me.

"Oh, really? That wasn't something you did last time & many countless times?" She demanded, sending rightful shame in me, having in fact done this but regretting it fully.

"Hey, I'm sorry, okay?" I sniffed away, my eyes looking at the outside of the hotel room, the day raising, the city all alive. "I was stupid at that time...just that," I continued, putting on my shirt, and once done, I looked at the ground, my hands on my lap. "I'm sorry, okay?"

"No, I'm the one to be sorry here," She breathed, hearing her move a little on the bed, feeling her presence near me. "It's just that...I'm sometimes afraid about you," She admitted as her hands were getting on the top of my shoulders, her thumbs staying on the back of them.

"I know, it's our work that keeps us apart but I don't want you to be with me in the Collective because I don't want to harm you..." I started as she was rubbing my shoulder, going slowly, surely as a form of apology at me even if I needed to apologize too. "...and you know well that I will never leave my father's organization,"

"Never?" Portnova whispered.

"Never," I replied, my voice been all honest about it. "We're both tasked to defend their interests: me with my father, you with your loyalty to the Motherland," I snorted, tapping with my fingers on my lap as a means to destress a bit. "We can be together but it will take time until we can live each day like a normal day, our work is going to be successful," I affirmed, impossible for me to not be with her.

"To say that I've got the luck to be with the man that is almost the prodigy and maybe future leader of your father's Collective," She confessed to me, giving me a big smile on my face, happy because it was sure that my father was going to let me take control soon. "And you, were you lucky to meet one of the best KGB agents?" She demanded, putting her left hand below my chin and directing my head to look at her.

"Of course I am," I muttered, landing a kiss on her lips as her arms were moving around me as a sign of making me stay but it was something I wanted to, knowing that work was going to be something that I will do later in the day. "Tell me, did we drink a lot last night?" I asked her, curious.

"Yeah but we almost got the whole bottle finished...and making love fully drunken isn't so exciting if we don't remember everything," She responded with a laugh at me that I followed too, seeing myself as the one who was going to drink the whole bottle by myself. "You were looking like someone who didn't drink vodka for a long time," She stated, smirking.

"With work, we ain't got the time to do what we want," I stated as she finally let me look away from her as she decided to get sit next to me, holding my right hand in her left one. "Stitch always saying that we couldn't let the 'fun' get in our way, him seeing only his hatred for Adler...and of course, the thing we're doing,"

"With that Bell, right?" I nodded at her question.

"It doesn't please me to play the 'best friends with her but what Stitch & Wraith did to her, it's really fucked up," I exclaimed, giving my thoughts to her on that situation, a little knot in the chest just by thinking of the last part I talked. "I'm like...shocked and thinking that there were no choices about it,"

"Doing that isn't human but..." Portnova wanted to continue in her words, looking by her but she stopped herself, closing her mouth and not saying anything as if she couldn't give an opinion on it. "No, I can't really give my opinion on it, I'm not well placed for that," She told me clearly as I thought.

"We're still trying to find out who is she and guess who got the job to do it? Me," I sighed, something that I didn't want to and it has to be Wraith doing it at me.

"Oh, at least, you're not..." The sound of a little device inside my jeans left pocket interrupted her sentence as I rolled my eyes in annoyance, moving my left hand to take out the little pager that each member of the team was given to communicate instead of using the phone.

"For fuck sake..." I cursed, seeing the message that was sent to me on the pager, the long sentence crossing. "Stitch is asking me to come to the airport in one hour, we're leaving," I resumed even if Portnova's eyes were looking at it too. "I'm sorry, love but it's important, I need to go," The pain of not enjoying a simple morning with her was coming in my voice and body as I got up from the bed.

"As always but...no, it ain't your fault, Bellamy," She said, acknowledged that it wasn't really my fault if Stitch can't fucking decide himself on when I was needed, having said to me last night that he wasn't going to disturb me when I talked about seeing Portnova again. "It's okay, Bellamy, you can call me at any time, you know that I'm free," She reassured me, taking my hands before I leaned towards her for a little kiss.

"Up to next time then...bye Yiri," I snorted, a bit sad in me as I started to walk away from the bed, leaving Portnova alone.

"Good luck & stay safe, Bellamy," She waved at me when I opened the door of the hotel room, returning the favor before stepping out in a big hallway, and then closing the door of the room, not having tears or pain at all, just angry about things and Stitch...

To say, that asshole is good in keeping people away...

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

24th February 1981

Yirina 'Bell' Grigoriev, Ex-KGB, Perseus

On a cargo plane above the United States airspace

We didn't take too long after I woke up with a start before Stitch decided to make us go into the US earlier than thought and after getting my stuff ready with the others and also Bellamy who came a bit late, we took the direction of the same secret runway that I & Stitch came in where a big military cargo plane labeled as a fake American plane was waiting for us before installing ourselves in it in the cargo hold, and then, taking off for a long flight to the USA, also having taken with us, Smirnov, still in interrogation.

As the flight was going to be very long, half a day and knowing that I didn't want to arrive in Denver, our destination in the US, completely exhausted and having stayed awake for 12 hours, I decided that it was better for me to take asleep, leaving the others in their talks & thoughts as I laid myself down on the bench on the left side of the plane, the others keeping a safe distance within each other, and then, I closed my eyes, trying to sleep with the engines of the plane making the biggest noises.

However, I was scared to actually sleep after what happened last night when I passed out, and as I thought, my worst fears came back but this time, it was more different than before...everything looking so strange...so real, like in that weird dream. The usual pictures were coming but there were briefer and faster in my head before I was then ejected in another dream as I did...and it was strange...so strange...

I was in a sort of a queue behind some people as...the woman who was with me in that last dream was here too, holding my right hand but still impossible to see her face and anything that could really help to know who she was as my surroundings were also not helpful as if someone was forcing me to not make me look at everything around me but there was a little detail that was not hidden from me...

It was...the picture of a white tiger on the wall in front of me, behind a sort of reception desk and that was the only thing I could see: a white tiger, his front paws in the airs...but it was so quick for me that in a second, my eyes were forcibly closed by something that couldn't be me and I struggled, giving every fiber of my bones to get them open...until I heard a noise, feeling myself move and finding myself back into that bench in the cargo bay of the plane, enlightened by red lights.

"Always been a big drunk, right, Bellamy?" That was Knight's voice that I could hear when I opened my eyes, seeing him in front of me at the other side of the plane along with Bellamy & Stitch as Wraith was on my side.

"Hey, big guy, my private life isn't concerning you," Bellamy called him out and to say, I think that Stitch got a good idea by putting himself between Bellamy & Knight even if his face was regretting it. "If I want to see my girlfriend, I'll go,"

"Pfft, we all know that it's just for having an insider in the KGB," Knight spoke up, crossing his arms and looking away from him...to me. "Hey, seems that Bell is waking up," He told everyone as I was getting myself redressed on the bench, everyone's eyes on me.

"Slept well, Bell?" Wraith asked me in a curious voice.

"Yeah, just a bit strange, seeing things but I'm good," I replied, my right hand holding my head and scratching my forehead, looking at her before the others. "What's the deal?" I demanded, speaking to Knight directly, sort of stepping in their conversation.

"Bellamy mentioned his 'girlfriend' to us minutes ago," Knight responded, even gesturing with his fingers to me, seeing Bellamy roll his eyes around.

"I love her, Knight, knock yourself out if you can't find anyone else," Bellamy scoffed and surprisingly, Knight only responded by a laugh to him, Bellamy didn't react at this, not even clenching his fists in anger or annoyance. "She's not our insider, she's my lover, understood?" He clarified, his eyes crossing towards everyone in the cargo bay.

"Bell," Stitch's voice spoke up, surprising me as he was staying silent. "You said that you saw things, what things?" He asked me, referring to my words a few seconds ago, having get his attention on that.

"I don't think that it's really interesting," I thought clearly as this moment was not very important to talk about.

"Tell us, it can be good to know," Stitch insisted, even leaning towards me on his seat, a hand on his left knee, the other around his waist.

"Yeah, what did you see?" Wraith joined in as Knight & Bellamy...everyone in the team was having their eyes on me, everyone looking interesting to know what I saw.

"You're all very insistent, aren't you?" I questioned them all and everyone nodded at me without any shame, making me take a deep breath, already feeling the shame of what I will say. "It was weird but I was in a sort of reception room...and the only thing I could see perfectly...was a white tiger," I said, putting my eyes on the ground once I was done.

"A white tiger?" Bellamy repeated, sounding a bit confused. "You were in a zoo or something?" He joked...the only one to do this.

"Why did you see a white tiger, Bell?" Knight demanded, also leaning towards me. "Just by curiosity, not to pressure you," He added, meaning it by the tone of his voice.

"I don't know, to be honest, it's just all weird," I responded, my hands a bit trembling under my gloves and I clenched them, trying to hide that from the others. "As I told you, it wasn't this interesting at all," I exclaimed, seeing on everyone's face that the thing I see wasn't that big.

"As you thought, I'm joining you, it shouldn't be too important for you," Stitch claimed, a smile on his face to reassure me that I shouldn't worry about it before exchanging a glare with Wraith, "What do you think, Wraith?"

"Oh, I'm like you," Wraith affirmed, having crossed her legs on the bench before looking at me, also with a little smile...and another hidden wink, making me blush. "I hope that the American air will maybe change your thoughts," She supposed in a joking tone.

"We'll see about that, last time I was here wasn't so nice for me...and our beloved Irish," Bellamy stated, breaking a laugh towards Knight, hands on the bench.

"Again? Let me say this to you: it was YOUR fault if that British agent got away if you weren't joking around with her during the beating you were trying to give her," Knight rolled her eyes while sniffing away, pointing with his finger Bellamy, avoiding to do this to Stitch.

"A British agent?" I stepped inside their arguments, "What's her name?"

"You don't need to know about this, Bell," Wraith joined in too, having taken out a knife that she was inspecting closely. "And besides, the two also forgot her name, so don't hope on the two," She added, shrugging at the two.

"Everyone." A loud voice interrupted our discussion, coming from the cargo hold speakers. "We'll be landing in Denver in a few minutes," It was surely the pilot announcing this to us before the speakers went off.

"Naga & Jackal are already waiting for us at the temporary safe house in Colorado Springs, they were sent in before as the two were assigned with Aldrich," Stitch spoke up in the cargo hold, resuming the conversation and his look was mostly focused on me. "We don't know how much time we'll be staying in the US but we'll have to stay focused and not attracting any big attention on us," He added, gesturing at everyone & me who nodded.

"Don't worry, Stitch, we ain't amateurs," Bellamy claimed, crossing his arms before looking in the direction of the big bay door as the plane was slowly descending in the skies, meaning that we were going to land soon at Denver...

"Let's see again how is the American Dream from up close,"

[writesowhatnext]

observant is not his middle name // kylo ren

Summary: barista!reader is pleasantly surprised when modern!kylo notices her new do (coffeeshop!au)

Request: Hey sweetie, can I have an imagine of Kylo Ren and the reader dating? She decides to change her hair color without telling him. She goes from blonde to red and she gets his reaction. Thanks! ❤️

A/N: I changed it a little because I had more ideas with them not dating yet also I do treasure a good coffee shop au

Reader: unspecified

Warnings: customer service lol

“My coffee was cold!”

“Ma’am-“

“When I order coffee, I expect it to be hot-“

“Ma’am-“

“Don’t Ma’am me, I’m twenty-seven!”

The woman on the other side of the counter slammed her espresso down next to your hand. Drops of brown liquid splattered up your sleeve and over the surface. Well, she was right. It wasn’t hot. You looked from your hand to her face, struggling to keep a polite smile on your face. She definitely was not twenty-seven.

“I am never coming here again!”

You watched her turn on her heels, not bothering to make sure she left; if you were lucky, she’d keep her promise. You threw the cup away, slightly disgusted as it perched between your thumb and forefinger.

The queue behind the woman moved up and a very tall, very wide, very dark figure stepped closer. You looked up from the surface you were wiping down to see a very handsome man. Very handsome indeed. He was almost excessively tall, with big, broad shoulders and strangely pretty features.

“She seemed nice.” He said, raising his eyebrows. You couldn’t help your snort.

“What can I get you today?” you asked, offering a tired smile. He was really very attractive, you thought.

“Uh… an americano and,” he paused, frowning. You raised your eyebrow as he pulled his phone out, his frown deepening. “a soya macchiato?”

Cute too, it seemed.

He looked at you if to check that such a drink existed. You chuckled a little, nodding.

“Coming right up. Anything else?”

“No,” he stared at you, eyes narrowing a little. An amused smile played on his lips. “Thanks.”

“That’ll be five dollars.”

As you put his money away, grimacing slightly at how sticky your hands were from that lady’s espresso, he stalled at the counter. You looked up at him, a question on the tip of your tongue.

“I sure hope it’s hot.” He said, clearly teasing with his raised eyebrow and lips pursed. “Wouldn’t want to have to come back here.”

You bit your lip to try to hide your smile. He watched you with a smile of his own as you tongued the inside of your cheek. You were sort of disappointed when he left without saying anything else.

The next time you saw your tall, dark and handsome stranger you were making drinks, pulling at the blonde strands of your hair between orders.

“I’m bored with my hair.” You said, turning to your co-worker. “I’m thinking of dyeing it.”

“What colour?” she replied, passing you a piece of paper with the next order on.

“Blue? Red maybe? I’m not sure yet.”

You made the coffee on autopilot as your co-worker carried on taking orders. With an americano in one hand and soya macchiato in the other, you went to the to-go shelf, stopping short silently when you looked into familiar brown eyes. He brightened up slightly when he saw you, a fact you enjoyed immensely.

“I forgot about you and your soya macchiato.” You said, sliding the cups over with a teasing smile.

“Am I that forgettable?”

You knew he knew he wasn’t.

“Desperately.”

He mocked a wounded expression.

“See you around.” He said, lips lifted in a half-smile.

Hopefully, you thought.

He didn’t look back as he left. When the door eventually closed behind him, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“What was that about?” you co-worker asked, smiling very, very smugly.

“Shut up.” You said, ripping the order note from her hand and turning away.

It was hard to admit but you were unavoidably hoping your mysterious stranger would return; for the next few days, you were always on the lookout for him. After a week, you decided you were being stupid and you needed to, as the kids say, get a life. So, you did what everybody does when they are met with a mild inconvenience, you dyed your hair. You weren’t completely sure about the red, honestly, but you’d had a few compliments so, you decided to stick with it for a while.

“Y/N!” your co-worker called from behind the counter. You hurried your cleaning, picking up empty mugs and napkins where you could.

“Yes.” You said, placing the cups in the washing rack and throwing the other stuff away. “What do you need?”

“How long left on your shift?”

You looked at the clock, grinning. “’Bout two minutes, why?”

She pointed at a tray with two cups on and a club sandwich.

“Can you take that to table fourteen before you leave?”

It took you about three minutes to remember where table fourteen was, distractedly thinking about how excited you were to finally have a day where you didn’t have to actually do anything. When you finally found it, you were quite optimistic about who was sitting there. You could only see him from behind but those broad shoulders, the dark hair – quite distinctive. He was sat across from a ginger man with pale skin and a bored expression.

“Coffees and a club sandwich?” you said, stopping next to the table, holding the tray with one hand. You placed the club sandwich on the table, aware of his eyes on you.

“Your hair is red.”

You huffed a laugh, looking at the cups to see what was in them.

“Someone’s observant today.”

A soft blush covered his cheeks; your heart went a little mushy at how endearing it was.

“Americano.” You said, placing the darker drink in front of him before turning to his friend who was looking between you and his friend suspiciously. “I assume you’re the mysterious soya macchiato?”

He frowned at your words but thanked you anyway.

“Hope you enjoy.”

“Hey,” your favourite customer said as you began to turn away. “When do you finish?”

If you looked up ecstatic in the dictionary, there would be a picture of you at that exact moment, red hair and all.

“In about thirty seconds.” You replied, not looking away from him.

“Perfect.” He wetted his lip. “Meet me here in ten minutes?”

You looked at his friend expectantly.

“He’s just leaving.”

You suppressed your smile at his excuse and his friend’s eye roll.

“Ten minutes.”

You weren’t sure exactly what you did in those ten minutes. You definitely spent about four of them doing a happy dance that you hoped would never see the light of day. You also messed with your hair for about another four; you couldn’t decide how to style it best. It took you another two minutes to undo the knot you’d made on your apron. You cursed past-you for busting out some Scout level manoeuvres, instead of finding a normal knot sufficient. You practically ran from the back room, into the café itself. And then you stopped, careful to not look so keen. A monument of grace and decorum, you were. You saw him sat at the same table, now alone, with an empty plate and his large hand resting on his coffee cup. His knee was bouncing under the table.

“Hi.” You said, suddenly nervous. He looked up at you, a slightly awestruck expression on his face before he pointed to the seat opposite him.

“Please, sit.”

As you sat, you felt his eyes on your face.

“My name’s Kylo.” He leant his elbows on the table, mouth pressed against his fists.

“Interesting name.”

“Interesting enough to learn yours?”

You pursed your lips to contain your smile.

“Y/N. It’s on my name tag.”

“I’m never looking at your name tag.” He didn’t look away from your face. He was glad he didn’t when your eyes widened and you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth.

“I think your hair suits you.” He rested his hands on his forearms atop the table, leaning forward with his impossibly large shoulders.

“Thank you.” You frowned slightly. “I wasn’t too sure myself, considered just bleaching it-“

“No.” he said almost too eagerly. “Keep it. It’s good. It looks good.”

You smiled, pleased that he seemed to be as affected by you as you were by him.

“Yeah?” you tucked a strand behind your ear. “I’m glad you think so.”

The tension between you was palpable. You had no idea what either of you were going to do next but you got a strange sort of high from the whole experience. He bit the inside of his cheek, brows drawing together.

“Do you want to get out of here?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

[blazehedgehog]

Sorry to ask this, but what are your thoughts on Dunky's "I'm Done Making Good Videos" with regards to content you aspire to author vs what the average joe actually searches for

I don’t know if I’m the best person to be asking this, really.

Let’s get fully inside baseball here. Let’s pull the curtain all the way back. Actually, let’s burn down the curtain. I’m going to overshare like hell right now. Get ready for the most stream-of-consciousness rambling ever, because a lot of this has been boiling in my head and dying to get out.

For the entirety of my Youtube channel, I’ve pretty much only ever done what I want to do. Very rarely do I chase trends, or do what’s hot, or even do what people want me to do. I do whatever I feel like doing.

I have paid the price for that. My Youtube channel is 15 years old as of this year, and only now am I slowly inching towards 25,000 subscribers. I am incredibly inconsistent. What’s my channel post? Well, a couple times a year, maybe I put together an edited essay/review for a game. But I also sometimes post random, unedited, uncommentated gameplay footage. Maybe it’s a fan game, maybe it’s a gameplay demo, maybe it’s Fortnite. Sometimes, I also post remastered video game music. Every Halloween, I dump a bunch of one-off horror Let’s Plays on to my channel. And then, there’s the podcast.

I know exactly what my problems are. I don’t specialize enough, and I don’t put content out fast enough. Because most Youtube channels are, like, “shows”, right. The Did You Know Gaming show. The Markiplier show. The Angry Video Game Nerd show. And you can point at those and say exactly what they are in two sentences or less.

Did You Know Gaming specializes in informative videos uncovering obscure facts you might not know about popular video games.

Markiplier is a Youtuber that does Let’s Play videos for video games, primarily horror games, but he also focuses on general comedy skits and things of that nature.

The Angry Video Game Nerd is about one guy’s over the top reactions to bad video games.

What does BlazeHedgehog do? Well, he does a lot of Sonic fan content, but sometimes he does horror let’s plays, and sometimes he does multiplayer compilation videos sort of like Criken, but he also does music, and sometimes he makes video games and puts out videos of that, and in general he’s really low energy and sometimes there will be three or four weeks between uploads. Also he sounds like Booger from Revenge of the Nerds Snot from Family Guy (apparently).

If you come to my channel for something specific, you have to put up with everything else I upload. I could start separate channels for that content, but the barrier to entry on Youtube is so massive now that I would effectively sending those channels to their death. Videos that get 200-500 views on my main channel would get 10 views or less if they were on their own self-contained alt-channel.

So I languish. I struggle. I suffer. Youtube shows me red down arrows to tell me just how much worse I’m doing now than my last flash-in-the-pan success.

I’ve tried to chase success. It just makes me sad. I have a sense of humor, but I don’t think I can make “funny videos” like some people can. My Sonic 06 glitch video did gangbusters ten years ago, but I don’t often like kicking games when they’re down. It was a struggle to make that Sonic Boom glitch montage and that’s the reason I never followed through with Part 2 like I said I would.

My only wish is that people appreciate honesty. My Youtube channel might be a scattered mess, but that’s who I am. And more than anything, I think that’s what Dunkey’s video was about. His whole joke was about switching from thoughtful or funny videos to becoming a content farm for whatever is currently popular.

I’ve brought it up a few times here and there over the last few months, but I’ve had several brushes with the Fortnite side of Youtube recently. And there are so many dudes over there who are what I would generously call “grifters.” I follow Hypex on Twitter and routinely check Firemonkey and ShiinaBR because they datamine future Fortnite updates and often have the scoop days, weeks or sometimes months in advance.

Near the end of season 3, all three of them mentioned they had datamined “the next season” but wouldn’t say what it was because they didn’t want to spoil what was coming (the marvel season). They mentioned there were “others out there” that were spoiling things, but wouldn’t say who. I wanted to spoil myself, so I turned to Youtube.

And Youtube was a nightmare. Over and over and over, I would encounter tons of people downright thriving on the same grift. It’s an open secret that Youtube prioritizes longer videos, so if your video is under ten minutes (or I think now 8 minutes), the algorithm isn’t going to be as nice to you and won’t promote your video as well, and you aren’t going to get as much advertising money because fewer people are going to sit through a video advertisement that’s a quarter of your video’s entire length. Longer videos are more profitable for Youtube, and by extension, for the user uploading them.

So it was video after video of these guys making big bold claims about how they had all the answers on what the next season of Fortnite was, and you’re thinking, “oh wow, it’s a 17 minute video, they’re going to spoil everything!”

You load the video up and it’s some guy in his streamer man cave, he’s got his webcam on, and he loads in to a match of Fortnite with his squad. Keep in mind, this video was pitched as a news report of sorts, a big spoiling of future content... and it’s just a guy playing Fortnite with a crew. In the few seconds between matches as he queues for the next one, he stops to deliver a single shred of information, most of which start with “Hypex said...”

The one thing you came to this video for and it’s scattered like breadcrumbs across a 17 minute video of a guy just playing normal matches Fortnite to fill time. It’s not information they acquired for themselves, they all just regurgitate what Hypex said, or what other channels reported Hypex saying. 17 minutes of padding for scraps of second-hand leaks. And I found dozens of these channels, all repeating the same format, all repeating the same specks of leaked information, and all of them had 150,000 to 200,000 views on each of their videos in less than 24 hours. That’s hundreds of dollars per video on a format to scam the system.

But that’s a content farm. Those dudes are vultures. I have a hard time believing their hearts are really in it. I know it’s not a term that’s really in vogue anymore, but I see that as “selling out.” They know what they are doing and it’s to make money, not to make a community better. I mean, one of those videos was a guy who was reading Marvel comic hero profiles off of Wikipedia because it sounded like he literally did not know who guys like Iron Man, Thor and Wolverine even were. How are you in touch enough with pop culture that you’re cranking out factory-fresh Fortnite content for Youtube but you don’t know who Thor is? Answer: because you don’t really care and you’re in it for the money. Gotta hit that 15 minute threshold and put in six mid-roll ad breaks.

I could be that guy. That’s kind of what I was hoping “This Kinda Sucks” would turn in to, which would be sort of a rant video series like The Jimquisition or something. But I did not have the interest or energy to keep that up. So you get a playlist with two videos on it.

I’m sure Dunkey was just funnin’ around. Dude has 6 million subscribers. But for me, like... what he said in the video is mostly true. Following your heart and making thoughtful content you are personally interested in won’t pay the bills. I mean, as I predicted, that Jurassic Park video launched to the sound of crickets chirping. My most hardcore fans and a few curious onlookers checked it out but that was it. I’ve been working on that video since August, and it’s something my viewer base did not care about. But I cared about it, and that’s important for the long-run, I think.

The other problem, sort of a disconnect, is that I’m lucky to be in the position I’m in. I think guys like Dunkey probably make all of their money from places like Youtube and Twitch and Patreon and that’s their career. That work pays all of their bills.

My work does not pay my bills. Or it does, but it’s not enough to pay all of my bills. I am lucky enough right now that I am in a living situation where I can make fractions of money in intermittent spurts. That won’t always be the case. But for now, I get to be honest, and I get to follow my heart in whatever random, chaotic direction it feels like going that particular day. Dunkey faces a different sort of pressure than I do.

All of this is to say I have no idea what I’m doing, I guess. I make the content I want to see.

That being said, I increasingly think about something I heard Woolie say early on when he went solo for his WoolieVS channel, and that was the idea of “One for you, one for me, one for us.”

Because I’ve had more than one friend burn out doing, like, Twitch streams and stuff. You hear about Youtubers who get sick of being shackled to new releases or whatever’s popular. At some point these people wake up and realize they’ve had this struggle, maybe made some money in the process, but they’re miserable because they don’t get to do what they want to do. They’re always being pushed forward by the fans that are behind them.

The “One for you, one for me, one for us” mantra does at least keep you a little more sane. Balance in all things, right? So that Jurassic Park video, it can flop. It’d be nice if it didn’t flop, given what time of the year it is, but it’s a video for me. I have other video ideas in the chamber that I know will be for my audience, or “for us.”

I just have to stay true to myself, and to my messy brain.

[kurtty-drabbles]

House of M Redone (part 6)

N/A: I didn´t put Reagan doing her evil-doing yet...time to correct that.

@muninandhugin @dannybagpipesarecalling @tieflingteeth

The party went on without a hitch. While one can argue this is not a fun party for young children- as the two princes are seeing walking around with their uncle in tow- no one can accuse this party of being indecent, so, therefore, there´s nothing stopping the presence of the twins.

Only they seem to disagree with this notion. Grimaces and pouting are their trademark response. Yes, this is a party safe for children but is not a fun one either.

Kitty covers her mouth at the sight of the young princes. The curves of her smile are too noticeable for a pair of golden eyes, of course, this observation is purely professional. See, Kurt takes his duties seriously.

"What?" her tone is saccharine and light as brown eyes are back to golden ones. "Have you personally meet the princes?"

He sent her a quizically stare. "Of course, they´ll be my bosses one day, so to speak, but...no child would think a party full of adults is cool...should see how they are with parties for their age" Kurt chuckles remembering that incident very well.

Kitty´s interest increase. "Is that a subtle way to ask me out again?"

"Well...I can´t ask you out as there´s no party planned ...yet" Kurt states and Kitty nods her head sagely. Dropping the subject for now. Looking around, no one can fault the young princes for being bored, because, Kurt is feeling a bit jaded himself too.

"Hey, wanna see something new?" whispering in her ear is totally necessary, after all, the music is being too loud. Sure, the music was not loud enough to "cloud" other´s people´s conversations. 

Kurt is paying attention to details.

Kurt is guiding her to the balcony. The colors of beige, golden and white follow the interior and exterior of the palace as Kitty can tell. The balcony has a privileged view of Genosha in all is wondrous.

Her mouth is agape for a few seconds. Kurt can let a smirk takes place for a few seconds too.

"Genosha is beautiful" her tone is breathless. In front of her is Genosha, all its light, are structures and its shadow. Kitty´s home is beautiful and she allows herself to relax. "Your childhood was here?"

"Nien" Kurt responds letting his weight rest on the balcony admiring his date, of course, is important to point out Kurt has professional reasons for that and nothing more. "Born in Germany" is not confidential information. "In Bavaria, my father is a count from there" again, not super-confidential, nor is something Kurt talks so freely.

Kitty blinks at him 3 times. "Oh, you really have blue blood then?" she asked now admiring the night. The moon is full and the stars are glowing. Maybe, they´re glowing for the Witch- Queen, or maybe is because Genosha has a low-level of pollution.

There´s a third option that is even sillier than thinking Wanda make the stars shinning. Kitty is not a romantic fool and won´t be one now. Her avert to the moon only as her pout is in place.

The third option is a lie. Always.

Kurt shurgs. A man with too many words usually means nothing. Is one of his father´s old saying.

"Enjoy the party?" Kurt asks confidently not minding Kitty staring so fixated on the moon. 

Kitty bites her lips. "I´m surprised, I thought you were using me to make someone jelly" Kitty can see the frown on his handsome blue face. "I kid, I kid. But in all honesty...this was a fun night" Kitty replies now looking his frown vanish.

"I´m glad...I usually don´t bring dates for those events, but, you know...I have to give a good impression"

Kitty nods. "Well, you´ll be happy to know that when I was part of the project GLADOS one of our top priorities is how to cause a superb impression in noble events" she winks at him.

"Sadly, we learn on the hard way the cake is a lie" she whispers in his pointy ear.

A deadpan stare is a response enough from Kurt. "Really? Portal to a teleport? You´ll never let me live this one down, will you?"

Kitty winks at him again.

Kurt only groans in response.

______________________________________________________________________________________________

Suddenly, a commotion takes place, people start to run away and the words fire is the only thing anyone needs to hear. Kurt is the Red Guard and he puts his duties first. "Kitty, we need to get out" And he didn´t wait for a reply not take into account her surprised look as Kurt is more than willing and cable to teleport them away from the palace.

Once Kitty is on the floor and still looks at him funny. Kurt needs to clarify. "The palace is on fire" his urgency only further her confusion.

"Kurt, what are you talking about? There´s no fire" and her eyes land to see the palace completely fine.

And Kurt land to see the palace on fire. Kurt is the Red Guard. The man is ready to teleport and save the day along with his fellow Red Guard when Kitty puts her hand on his shoulder.

"Kurt, listen to me...there´s no fire...is all an illusion"

_______________________________________________________________________________________

Carol Danvers is one of the most powerful Avengers ever. To the point, Captain Marvel, the once Mar-Vell, saw something in Carol that was worthy to be his successor.

Of course, some people took negatively when Mar-Vell selects a woman to fill the role, so to speak, and of course, many rumors fly. It didn´t help Carol in the slightest the fact she used to date Mar-Vell- nevermind the fact it was way before she even discover her powers or even consider herself a heroine- some people are more than willing to be extremely petty if a woman takes the role.

Her blue eyes travel to where Wanda is. The Scarlet Witch. The strongest person Carol ever meet. A smile curls on her face as her sons gravitated towards her. Literally now.

Wanda and Carol are friends. Having friends is enough to face anything.

"FIRE!" is all Carol can hear as suddenly everything is pure chaos. 

She starts helping everyone to leave. She missed Wanda´s confused glare the Scarlet Witch.

"Everyone follow me" Carol starts using her Photon powers to put off the fire.

Wanda is completely confused as well as her sons and one of the guests, Ororo Monroe.

Carol is not the type to prank or trash places for no reason. Neither is Pietro and Lorna who are doing their best to put the fire out.

__________________________________________________________________________________________

Outside of the palace, Kurt stares at Kitty for a solid minute. "An illusion? Then how come are you not being affected?"

Kitty blinks at this and sighs. "I´ve several students who have abilities similar...I got some immunity" better leave out how some teachers still struggle with illusions and how Jubilee is a victim of those...still.

(That´s how she meets Jono. He´s also immune to illusions and often stands by to help)

Kurt takes a deep sigh and looks at the fire once again. "Is not that I don´t believe you, I do...but I can´t stay still...even if the fire is an illusion, I´m a Red Guard, my loyalty goes to Genosha first and foremost" his tone is firm and without waiting any minute more. Kurt teleports.

Kitty watches the palace. Still no fire.

___________________________________________________________________________________________

Kurt found Rogue in a minute-no one mentions how Rogue and Captain Marvel are working together- and while Kurt can see the fire, and 50% of people are behaving as one would do if you´re trapped in a fire trap of death. Kurt has enough common sense to notice the other 50% who is looking at the rest as if this is a poor and tasteless joke and is drinking without fear.

"There´s no fire...is an ILLUSION" Kurt recalls Kitty´s words.

Rogue and Cap Marvel send quizically stare at him.

Emma Frost has Felicity clung in her arm. "Oh, please, that´s all about? Of course, there´s no fire...any telepath worth of their salt can see this" Emma states.

Wanda supports Emma´s claim now seeing the bigger picture.

Kurt has a duty to uphold. Fire or no fire. "Everyone follows me, we'll leave the palace calmly. There´s no fire...is all an Illusion. It can´t hurt you" and so, a long queue is formed with people trying to be calm.

Some are using their powers to put out the invisible fire even if Kurt explains is no need.

Wanda wants answers.

 __________________________________________________________________________________________

Blink wears 

Reagan wears

Everyone is outside. The guests, the staff, including, of course, the royal family. Wanda used her powers- Emma offered to help, but it was a poor choice as Wanda is furious someone dares to do this to her home- in a minute everyone saw how never was any fire or danger.

Kurt looks discreetly at Kitty. She was right. Again. He can only send a thankfully smile towards her. She gets the message.

Meanwhile, a blonde woman with blue eyes and a black dress walks away not paying mind to anyone nor is anyone paying any mind to her. People are still speculating about the fire.

A woman with pink skin offers her arm to said blonde woman. "Reagan, is everything went as you planned?" she asked with a calm tone. Again, no one is paying them any mind.

Reagan smiles at her. "Blink, not even I could have predicted this...let´s go...take me home" and in a blink of eyes. The two women are gone.

[remywrites5]

Oh I love all of your drabbles and always go through your feed to make sure I didn’t miss any! Could I get a meet-ugly for wolfstar? Like something goes horribly wrong but it makes them meet and laugh?

           Remus was sitting in the chairs by his terminal waiting for his plane. He’d finally snagged a spot near an outlet so that he could charge his phone. He had passed out the night before without charging it and was just lucky he’d remembered to set his alarm or else he might have missed his flight. The term was over and Remus was on his way back to Wales for the Christmas Holiday to visit his parents. He wasn’t exactly looking forward to seeing his dad, as he’d gotten enough chilly silences for a lifetime, but his mum would kill him if he elected to stay in London for Christmas.

           He had already scrolled through all the usual social media apps and watched a few Youtube videos. With nothing better to do, Remus opened Tinder with usual amount of trepidation. Lily had forced him to sign up for the app, claiming it wasn’t as bad as he thought. It had led to a few awkward dates that usually resulted in Remus getting ghosted, and a few even more awkward one night stands that also led to Remus being ghosted. His track record wasn’t the best.

           He was scrolling through, trying to remind him of what Lily had said. “Not everyone is going to have your same interests, Remus. You have to give people a chance.” Remus thought he had given quite a few people a chance and that hadn’t exactly worked out for him. No matter how much he tried he couldn’t swipe right on someone whose entire profile was pictures of them at the gym.

           His finger hesitated over a picture of someone who absolutely couldn’t be real. He had long, dark hair that fell well past his shoulders and grey eyes that Remus thought must have been either contact lenses or photoshopped. High cheekbones and sinful lips the man looked like a model. Remus was not about to get catfished by a picture that was probably of someone famous that he just didn’t recognize. Besides, what kind of a name was Sirius anyway? It was obviously fake.

           He swiped left. Not today, Satan.

           “Hard pass on that guy, huh?” Someone said from above Remus. “Ouch.”

           Remus glanced up and the first thing he noticed were grey eyes. He felt his own eyes widen in surprise as he took in the rest of the guy standing in front of him. It was the guy he had just swiped left on. Here, in the flesh, very much real. “Oh my god,” he said, feeling a blush of embarrassment rise to his cheeks.

           “I’ll try not to take it too personally,” the guy said, sitting down across from Remus and crossing his legs.

           “I-I didn’t – “ Remus said, tripping over his words from his absolute mortification. “I-I thought…”

           “It’s okay,” Sirius said, realizing quickly that Remus was struggling and letting him off the hook. “You don’t have to explain.”

           “I thought you weren’t real!” Remus said, finally able to get the words out and saying them a bit louder than he’d originally intended.

           Sirius raised an eyebrow at him. “I’m just that stunning, huh?” he joked, sliding an elastic off his wrist and putting his hair up into a messy bun.

           Remus swallowed thickly. “You have to be careful with stuff like this,” Remus explained, pretending that seeing Sirius’ hair up like that wasn’t doing things to him. “You see a Tinder profile with a name like Sirius and the picture looks like you…it doesn’t seem all that realistic, does it?”

           Sirius barked out a laugh. “Okay, I’ll give you the name, it’s been a pain in the arse my entire life.”

           Remus found himself leaning forward in Sirius’ direction. “Mine’s not much better,” he assured Sirius with a knowing grin. “Remus Lupin.”

           Sirius grabbed his bag and moved, sliding into the seat next to Remus. “Nice to meet you, Remus Lupin. I’ll have to remember the name so I can tell my mates all about the guy who broke my heart at the airport.”

           Remus ducked his head down. “I don’t think it’s anything as serious as that.”

           “Oh you wound me,” Sirius said, clutching at his chest. “So what’s your chat up line on Tinder? Anything good?”

           “I usually say hi my name is Remus.”

           Sirius rolled his eyes. “No wonder you’re still on there.”

           “Well what’s yours then?” Remus challenged, bumping his shoulder against Sirius’ lightly.

           “Usually something like call me Jaffa cake because I’m looking like a snack!”

           Remus burst out laughing. “I can see why you’re still on there too.”

           Sirius smirked. “Call me biscuit because I wanna be filled with your custard crème.”

           Remus laughed even harder, doubling over and clutching his sides. “Oh god, I can’t breathe!”

           Sirius laughed with him, Remus’ mirth spurring him on until neither of them could stop laughing. By the time Remus calmed down he had tears in his eyes that he quickly wiped away.

           “You’re mental,” he informed Sirius, shaking his head.

           Sirius slung his arm around Remus’ shoulders and pulled him in close as if they were about the share a secret. “It runs in my family,” he said, whispering against Remus’’ ear and making Remus shiver. “In fact it practically gallops.”

           Remus turned his head slightly and looked into Sirius’ impossible grey eyes. “Okay Cary Grant,’ he teased, recognizing the Arsenic and Old Lace reference.

           Sirius’ eyes lit up when Remus called him out. “Fuck, it’s a real shame you passed on me. I think we would have been good together.”

           Remus bit his bottom lip nervously. “Maybe considering we’ve met in real life, we could skip the whole talking on Tinder thing and go right to having each other’s numbers?”

           Sirius considered it for a moment. “You’re not going to give me a fake number, are you?”

           “I wouldn’t do that,” Remus insisted. “Besides, I’m the one who initiated it. Why would I do that if I was just going to give you a fake number?”

           Sirius hummed. “Good point. Although I’m already so wounded by you it’s difficult to think rationally!”

           They swapped mobiles and Remus programmed his number into Sirius’ phone before handing it back to him. “Really?” he said, seeing what Sirius had put in his phone. “You labeled yourself as Sex God Sirius Black?”

           Sirius shrugged. “Oh ye of little faith.”

           Remus blushed. “I’m changing it the first chance I get.”

           “No!” Sirius said indignantly. “You’re going to deny my claim as a deity? That’s very rude, Remus.”

           They called for Remus’ flight to start boarding and Remus found himself disappointed that he couldn’t continue talking with Sirius. At least there was the promise of more conversations to come.

           Remus laughed and got to his feet. “Fine, I’ll keep it. But it’ll be under review after the first time we shag.”

           Sirius’ jaw dropped. “Remus! Now you’ve put quite a bit of pressure on me for our first time together.”

           Remus grinned and bent down so he was mere inches away from Sirius’ face. With a courage he didn’t know he had, he just barely brushed his lips against Sirius’ and enjoyed the little inhale of breath he got in response. “You put the pressure on yourself by programming that as your name in my phone. I’ll have expectations now.”

           Sirius rose to the challenge Remus had set down. He grabbed Remus by the front of his jumper and kissed him fiercely. Remus put his hands on Sirius’ shoulders to steady himself as they snogged in the airport. When he finally pulled back, he was breathless with kiss-swollen lips. “I have to go,” he said softly. 

           “Don’t go to Wales,” Sirius begged, tugging lightly at Remus’ jumper. “Wales is rubbish. Stay here with me.”

           Remus chuckled. “What are you even doing here then if you’re staying in London?”

           “I’m going to Paris for the week to visit my uncle Alfie,” Sirius explained, pressing kisses along Remus’ jawline.

           “Then you’re not staying here either,” Remus reminded him in amusement. “Unless you’re offering to whisk me away to Paris.”

           “Now there’s an idea.”

           “Sirius, no,” Remus said, laughing softly. “Absolutely mental.”

           “Fine,” Sirius said, pressing a kiss to the corner of Remus’ mouth, “I’ll let you go if you promise to be back for New Years and be my date.”

           “So now I’m to be held hostage, is that it?” Remus joked, nipping playfully at Sirius’ bottom lip.

           Sirius balked. “No, I just – “

           Remus silenced him with a kiss. “Yes, I’ll be your date for New Years. Now will you let me board the plane, please?”

           “Fine,” Sirius said, releasing his jumper. “Text me?”

           “I will,” Remus promised, straightening up and fixing his jumper where it had gotten a bit rumpled from Sirius holding it. He grabbed his bag before getting in the queue to get on the plane. He gave Sirius a smile and a little wave before he disappeared through the door.

           He had just found his seat when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and smiled at the name on the notification.  

           Sex God Sirius Black: I’d like to put an unexpected item in your bagging area.

           Remus chuckled and shook his head.

           Remus Lupin: Dreadful. Absolutely dreadful. I rescind my offer to be your date on New Years.

           Sex God Sirius Black: NOOOOOOOO

           Remus Lupin: Also an unexpected item makes it sound kind of rapey.

           Sex God Sirius Black: It’s unexpected because of how large it is.

           Remus Lupin: They all say that.

           Sex God Sirius Black: Haven’t you learned not to doubt me?

           Remus Lupin: I think you have a tendency to over-exaggerate.

           Sex God Sirius Black: Me? Never!

           Remus Lupin: Plane is about to take off. Talk to you later. Plonker.

           Remus arrived in Wales less than an hour later. When he got off the plane, his mum was waiting for him and pulled him into a big hug. His dad was nowhere to be found but that suited Remus just fine. He was in the middle of hugging his mum when his phone went crazy with notifications buzzing.

           “My, aren’t you popular!” Hope said with a grin.

           Remus pulled his phone out. He had fifty-five text messages from Sirius. Shaking his head, he followed his mum out to the car and read them on the way home in between answering questions from his mum.

Sex God Sirius Black: I miss you already.

Sex God Sirius Black: Come back I want more kissing.

Sex God Sirius Black: Fuck, my flight is delayed three hours.

Sex God Sirius Black: I’m bored! Come back!

Sex God Sirius Black: This is a real injustice, Remus. I’ll never forgive you for abandoning me in my hour of need.

Sex God Sirius Black: Just kidding I forgive you.

Sex God Sirius Black: Do you want to get coffee because I like you a latte.

Sex God Sirius Black: Is that one better? More your speed?

Sex God Sirius Black: Fuck this is intolerable.

Sex God Sirius Black: I realize now that I’ve sent you way too many messages and you’re going to be very worried about giving me your mobile number.

Sex God Sirius Black: GO BIG OR GO HOME!

Sex God Sirius Black: I wish you could respond. I like talking to you.

Sex God Sirius Black: How long does it take to get to Wales?! I could swim there faster than this!

Sex God Sirius Black: In case you were wondering, I swiped right on you.

Sex God Sirius Black: Because I’m not a HEARTLESS MONSTER.

Sex God Sirius Black: And I thought you were cute.

Sex God Sirius Black: Although I need to teach you how to take better selfies. You’re absolutely pants at it.

Sex God Sirius Black: The selfies will just be for me though. No more Tinder for you!

Sex God Sirius Black: Or at least I hope.

Sex God Sirius Black: I’m thinking about deleting it myself. Is that too fast? I wouldn’t want to put any more expectations on this than I already have.

Sex God Sirius Black: Bollocks.

Sex God Sirius Black: I deleted it. It’s not like I can’t download it again, right?

Sex God Sirius Black: You probably think I’m a crazy person.

Sex God Sirius Black: Not probably. You definitely think I’m a crazy person.

Sex God Sirius Black: I’ll stop now and leave you alone before I scare you off.

Sex God Sirius Black: Well that lasted all of ten minutes.

Sex God Sirius Black: I went and got a Pumpkin Spice Latte at Starbucks because my chat up line made me want one.

Sex God Sirius Black: Yes, I am 100% that bitch.

Sex God Sirius Black: I hope you don’t think less of me, Remus.

Sex God Sirius Black: Not sure how you could though.

Sex God Sirius Black: I think I’ve probably scared you off. I have a tendency to do that.

Sex God Sirius Black: Not that this kind of thing happens to me a lot.

Sex God Sirius Black: Fuck!

Sex God Sirius Black: Sorry. I’m freaking out a little bit.

Sex God Sirius Black: I like you.

Sex God Sirius Black: Why was it so acceptable for people to write love letters back in Jane Austen time to people they hardly knew but it’s weird if I bombard you with text messages after meeting once and a few snogs?

Sex God Sirius Black: Mr. Darcy wrote Elizabeth Bennett a letter and it was romantic as shit!

Sex God Sirius Black: Did I just make myself Mr. Darcy in this scenario?

Sex God Sirius Black: I feel like you’re much more a Mr. Darcy type than I am.

Sex God Sirius Black: and hey we met because of a misunderstanding!

Sex God Sirius Black: I don’t have a bunch of sisters though. Just a brother named Regulus. We don’t really talk.

Sex God Sirius Black: My Uncle Alfie is sick. Colon cancer. I don’t normally see him for Christmas and just spend it with my friend James.

Sex God Sirius Black: Reg wouldn’t even come with me to see Alfie even though it’s probably going to be his last Christmas.

Sex God Sirius Black: Doesn’t that fucking suck?

Sex God Sirius Black: I’m sure he has his reasons.

Sex God Sirius Black: I don’t really get on with my family.

Sex God Sirius Black: Fuck this is some heavy shit. You running for the hills yet? Blocking my number?

Sex God Sirius Black: Sorry. This isn’t what you signed up for.

Sex God Sirius Black: I’m a bit of a hot mess.

Sex God Sirius Black: Emphasis on the hot.

Sex God Sirius Black: Sorry. I couldn’t help it.

Sex God Sirius Black: I’ll leave you alone until you can actually respond to me.

Sex God Sirius Black: Just know it’ll be difficult for me.

Sex God Sirius Black: If your feelings are still what they were last April, tell me so at once. My affections and wishes have not changed, but one word from you will silence me forever.

Sex God Sirius Black: Okay, I’m really done now.

Remus read them all and then went back and read them again. He tried not to laugh out loud because he didn’t exactly want his mum asking him questions. He didn’t want to share the fact that he had snogged a stranger at the airport and then given him his number. He didn’t think his mum would approve.

Remus Lupin: Oh my god!

Sex God Sirius Black: Moony!

Remus Lupin: What?

Sex God Sirius Black: I was bored so I was thinking up a nickname for you.

Remus Lupin: And that was the best you could come up with?

Sex God Sirius Black: Don’t be mean. I was distraught without you!

Remus Lupin: Yes I can see that.

Sex God Sirius Black: Well you’re texting me so I hope that means I haven’t frightened you off.

Remus Lupin: I was slightly alarmed when my phone went crazy in my pocket. But you won me back with the Jane Austen. I do identify with Mr. Darcy because I too hate speaking to people I don’t know and unnecessary dancing.

Sex God Sirius Black: You spoke to me.

Remus Lupin: Rare exception.

Sex God Sirius Black: Aww that makes me feel special.

Remus Lupin You should.

Sex God Sirius Black: I do

Remus Lupin: I’m sorry about your Uncle. And your brother. And your family. That all really sucks.

Sex God Sirius Black: Thanks. I’ll go into my sordid tragic backstory some other time. But for now my plane is boarding so you get to suffer the way I did.

Remus Lupin: At least I’ll suffer silently.

Sex God Sirius Black: Rude!

Remus Lupin: Have a safe flight.

Sex God Sirius Black: We’ll always have Paris.

Remus Lupin: Here’s looking at you, kid.

                                                           ***

Remus Lupin sat outside with Sirius on the front steps of Sirius’ flat that he shared with James. He was cold and a little bit tipsy, but happier than he could remember being in quite a long time. Their gloved fingers were intertwined as they waited for midnight and the fireworks to start.

They could hear people counting down but Remus’ world narrowed to just Sirius. His nose and cheeks pink from the cold, his head covered with a beanie he’d stolen off Remus. They’d texted continuously over the holiday and since they’d both returned to London, Remus’ life had been filled with Sirius. They fit, in a way Remus had never felt he did with anyone else. Sometimes it made his stomach twist painfully at the thought that now he had something to lose.

But Sirius kept coming back, greedy for Remus – his time and his attention – and it eased the anxiety Remus felt. He thought back to that day at the airport and how he had almost missed this. He’d never been so happy about a mistake before in his life. He wasn’t sure if matching with Sirius on Tinder would have had the same effect that meeting him in person had. But then again, the overwhelming force that was Sirius Black felt kind of inevitable. Maybe they would have ended up here regardless of which was Remus swiped. 

“You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you,” Sirius said at five seconds to Midnight.

“Hey, that’s my line,” Remus teased at three seconds to Midnight. 

Smiling, they both leaned in towards each other, cold lips and warm mouths as they greeted the New Year together.

[thephantomssiren]

Finding the gold in the TROS novelization intro

So reading the opening sequence (that honestly should have been in the movie in its entirety) of the TROS novelization, I have already found some interesting things in the wording... and dare I say, it makes me excited to read the rest:

For instance, we get the return of the Dream/ Nightmare comparison when referring to Kylo Ren:

“The glow of his lightsaber occasionally snagged on his cheek scar, making it appear as though a crack of glowing lava slashed his face. It was like some­thing out of a dream, or maybe a nightmare, as the Supreme Leader plunged his fiery crossguard into his attacker’s abdomen, lifted him from the ground, and sent him toppling onto his back.”

We also get this sneaky Reylo insert (at least that’s what comes to my mind when I read it):

“Kylo Ren showed mercy to nothing and no one, but he had a grudg­ing appreciation for things that struggled to survive.”

I love this line because it has a sort of double meaning. In its context, it is saying that Kylo is ruthless and “he will let nothing stand in his way”--when this man is on a mission, you best not interfere with his plans-- showing just how intimidating and awesome of a character he is and how he is as Supreme Leader of The First Order. On the other hand, there is something else to be seen here. What did Kylo tell Rey in the throne room? Oh yes I remember, “You have no place in this story. You come from nothing. You’re nothing...but not to me.” Also, Rey even says that she’s no one when Luke asks who she is when he finds her in the force tree on Ahch-To, and if you recall in one of the trailers for TFA we hear Maz ask Rey the same thing, “Who are you?” and we hear Rey answer “I’m no one.” Here we get a confirmation (as if we needed further proof) that Rey is still Kylo’s weakness (and his strength). After all, as we see in their duel atop the Death Star II ruins, he has a chance to kill her (again) when she is on her knees utterly exhausted from the effort it took to fight him and he goes for the killing blow but can’t bring himself to do it (even before Leia calls out to her son). He showed mercy to Rey! Why? because he shows mercy to nothing and no one😉. 

We then get to see that Rey and Kylo really do share one brain cell, and we also get an obvious hint at his inevitable redemption:

The spider creature spoke. “I am the Eye of Webbish Bog. I know what you seek.”

“You will give it to me,” Kylo said.

The Eye cocked its head, making an eerie squealing noise. It took a moment for Kylo to realize the creature was laughing at him. “No need for that,” the Eye said. “Do you really think my lord would have left it in the guardianship of one who could be swayed by a trick of the Force?”

No, he supposed not.

“You’ve been seeking it for a while, yes? I must warn you, our fiery planet burns away deception. If you proceed down this path, you will encounter your true self.”

Kylo was growing impatient. He glared in silence.

“Fine,” the creature said, as though disappointed that Kylo would not indulge him in ceremony. “In accordance with Lord Vader’s wishes, you have defeated my protectors and earned it. His way­finder.”

Just like Kylo tells the Oracle to give him the wayfinder, Rey says that same thing to Kylo inside the throne room of the Death Star ruins... “give it to me” albeit in a different tone--which judging by Kylo’ s expression after she said that also did things to him haha.

It does make me happy though that Kylo was always destined to become Ben Solo again! He even continued on this quest knowing it would happen from what we read in the context. I think he already knew deep down that he was done with being Kylo Ren and was ready to be Ben again...but he just needed that little push from Rey and Leia, that little bit of acceptance/ forgiveness from them (and himself--queue Han Solo memory) in order to finally do it, to return to the Light.

I know some of us Reylos are debating whether or not to read the TROS novelization when it comes out next month, so I wanted to share even these little things I saw in the opening sequence to show you that even though we know the ending will still be terrible, the novelization may still be worth the read if anything to find some more gold in the context of the story. Who knows what we may find even in the Reylo scenes! Heck, there may even be bonus Reylo scenes we didn’t get to see in the movie (as terrible as that may be)...but it wouldn’t be the first time that happened. Even TLJ novelization had some of the Reylo moments play out differently--remember Kylo smiling at Rey when he saw her crammed in his father’s escape pod, or the outright flirting that happened afterwards?!

I guess what I’m trying to say is, stay positive Reylos! There may be gold in them there TROS pages! 

[nomanwalksalone]

ALTERNATIVE STYLE ICON: RICHARD CHAMBERLAIN IN WALLENBERG: A HERO’S STORY

by Réginald-Jérôme de Mans

The writer George Santayana famously wrote that those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it. Ironically many who repeat his quote forget who first uttered it.

I had long meant to write about Richard Chamberlain in this role. I once referred to him as “the fey king of the miniseries” and I don’t regret it: foppish, almost milquetoast in fare as varied as a two-part TV version of The Bourne Identity (with Jaclyn Smith, natch), Shogun, and as a leading candidate for an honorary Seinfeld puffy shirt: Not only did he play the Count of Monte Cristo in a 1975 TV movie, but a bunch of what Elaine Benes would have called chandelier-swinging characters in other Dumas adaptations, including Aramis in Richard Lester’s The Three Musketeers and Louis XIV and his twin in The Man in the Iron Mask. Postmodern swashbuckler author Arturo Perez-Reverte even described a character in one of his own novels as looking “like Richard Chamberlain in The Thorn Birds, only more manly.” That same Thorn Birds role, Father Ralph de Bricassart, also inspired a certain Rhunette Ferguson to give her son, a future New York Jets player, perhaps my favorite name ever: D’Brickashaw.

Dubbing Chamberlain an Alternative Style Icon for his role as Swedish diplomat Raoul Wallenberg is low-hanging fruit. For years this TV special dwelt at the bottom of my Netflix queue for that express purpose. Former Savile Row tailors Manning & Manning won an Emmy award for the outfits they made for him; decades later Bryan Manning had some very interesting things to say to the inimitable Simon Crompton of Permanent Style about the 1930s and 1940s cutting styles he had to adopt for Chamberlain’s outfits for the movie. Chamberlain’s costumes are appropriately dashing, from the full diplomatic gala white tie ensemble worn while conspiring with the Papal Nuncio of Budapest to a tan double-breasted suit with horizontal peaked lapels that is, quite simply, magnificent. Zagreb, one of the most beautiful cities in eastern Europe, admirably filled in for 1940s Budapest and Stockholm in the making of this production. I’m fairly certain that I’ve stayed at the Zagreb hotel on whose esplanade Chamberlain wore that suit, in an early expository scene where the American and Swedish governments encourage Wallenberg to take a position with the Swedish legation in Budapest.  I’ve been told Zagreb’s one of two cities in Europe where the street lamps in certain neighborhoods are still gaslit. Gaslighting happens to have been one of the reasons that I finally wrote about this icon.

Of course there’s plenty to mock in the conventions of this telefilm, even beyond Chamberlain’s indisputable 1970s and 1980s stock hero status: its heavy-handed setup and plotting, making Wallenberg out to be a one-man anti-Nazi force from his time at home in Sweden (wearing a U. Michigan sweatshirt to indicate that he had studied in the US - did college sweatshirts even exist back then?). Miniseries meant melodrama and its archetypal characters: an adorable child whom Wallenberg saves from the death camps only to die of illness; a shoehorned-in love interest in the form of a kindhearted baroness who lobbies her suspicious husband to relax the Hungarian government's strictures on Jews; a fiery Hungarian resistance fighter who provides the unofficial, combative counterpoint to Wallenberg’s diplomatic, humanitarian efforts through official channels. And, of course, Wallenberg’s kidnapping by the Soviets at the fall of Budapest meant his story was perfectly framed for 1985, when we still couldn’t trust those Russians. (In fact, to this day no one knows what they did with him.)

A few appropriately haunting and powerful moments do ring true, including Wallenberg’s cordial verbal fencing matches over contraband Scotch and cigarettes with Adolf Eichmann. Whether those meetings really took place in that form or not, their film versions appropriately capture the realities of how we are forced to engage with evil. Rarely are we simply battling an easily identifiable other, weapon to weapon. Instead, we encounter evil in the everyday – in fact, it seeks us out, finds shared ground, converses with us over pleasantries and hospitality even as we recognize its intentions. It identifies with us, we identify with it. Even as you know it is evil.

Eichmann had made it his avowed duty to kill the Jews of Europe. Wallenberg’s mission, as an emissary of an officially neutral power, was to help save as many as he could. And he did, through famously fearless, reckless endeavors including the distribution of thousands of official-looking Swedish passes to the Jews of Budapest, the creation of vast cultural centers and warehouses in the Swedish mission buildings in which these new countrymen could work under the aegis of their adoptive country, and savvy diplomatic maneuvering with the Hungarian and German authorities and military. He went as far as to climb on top of a train bound for Auschwitz and distribute passes to as many deportees as he could while soldiers fired shots at him. Looking back, historians suggest they were firing over his head to warn him as they could easily have dropped him at that range, but it’s not likely Wallenberg knew that at the time.

At that time diplomats of neutral powers could make fortunes more safely as armchair heroes: playboy Porfirio Rubirosa reportedly did so in Paris selling visas to the Dominican Republic to French Jews during World War II. In that respect, perhaps, both he and Wallenberg were heroes… of different sorts.

Wallenberg did not do it for money. The Wallenbergs were Swedish aristocracy (with, the film takes pains to remind us, an ounce of Jewish blood) with considerable means – hence the finely tailored wardrobe for Chamberlain. Thus, an easy cynical response to this essay could be that a rich aristocrat with diplomatic immunity risked nothing swanning around the salons of Budapest, just like the fictional gentleman spies we read about and watch on screen.

That response is wrong. Heroism is not just born of opportunity. It is recognizing when a choice confronts you and taking the difficult, unpopular and dangerous one in order to do what is right. Fictional heroes like Bond or Steed rarely suffer meaningful personal loss and rarely confront the reality of evil. Evil is your friend with many positive qualities, maybe more intelligent or cultured or better dressed than you, the one you looked up to, who gradually reveals the awful things he or she believes and has done. Evil is those complicit in carrying out those things by their inaction, their credulity, or their cooperation, not at the point of a gun but of a paycheck. Evil is legal, logically explained, repeated and reported until its baseless reasoning becomes fact and the foundation for more lies, more evil. Evil can so easily become the system.

Hindsight is a handicap, for it doesn’t usually permit us to see that there were no times without ambiguity in battles between good and evil and no certainty that good triumphs. We have the privilege of retrospect to acknowledge the dashing diplomat in Savile Row suits was a hero for saving innocents from deportation and death as part of the most ghastly genocide in history. We learned what genocide is, and had to invent the word to describe it. Because at that time the people singled out for persecution and death were unpopular, historically, socially and legally marginalized, supposedly easily identifiable and classifiable. A group that societies had made it easy - through regulation, ghettoization, oppression and antagonism – to hate, and whole false narratives drawn up to explain why that group hated and wanted to destroy us even more than we them.

One of A Hero’s Story’s most timely and inspiring lines is Wallenberg’s reply to the Hungarian ruler’s query why the King of Sweden cared so much about the Jews of another country, when he was a Christian. Wallenberg reminded the prime minister that the King’s “concerns transcend religion or national borders.” That concern is humanity, our lowest common denominator, our shared recognition of our capacity for suffering. That concern drove a man to acts of incredible selflessness, a generous mercy that seems to have cost him his liberty and his life. There is no romance to Raoul Wallenberg’s fate. It is worth remembering that he probably saw little romance in the actions he took in Budapest.

Now is no less an unromantic time, no less a time when others – so many different others –are easily denigrated, feared, distrusted, brutalized. Otherization, both of many within our borders and pressing against them, has returned, as has fascism, with apologists blandly elegant or brutally populist, like some inauspicious comet in our skies. Now, again, is a time for heroes – men and women who recognize how difficult and dangerous it is to do what is right. That struggle is far from those of Chamberlain’s habitual roles swashbuckling against a monolithic, universally despicable, evil. Evil is among us, habituating us, desensitizing us, gaslighting us. Far from frills and fanfare, celebration, or certainty of triumph, can we place ourselves in Wallenberg’s Budapester shoes and do what is right?

Quality content, like quality clothing, ages well. This post first appeared on the No Man blog in February 2017.

[pleasant-misery]

Right! @kingdommyhearts​ asked me to elaborate on Adrien being autistic so I’m gonna.

Adrien is not great with social ques, and social situations in general, and it's usually explained as being because he's been so sheltered growing up but consider; what if he's autistic:

His polite persona as Adrien is 90% masking

He uses music to relax, because he can predict it. That’s why he has so many cds.

As Chat Noir he’s still acting and masking, but it’s more genuine. More like he’s translating his emotions into a language others can understand.

Part of the reason he’s not as proficient at strategy as Ladybug is because he struggles to predict their enemy’s intentions.

He’s hypersensitive to smells, especially after becoming Chat Noir. Camembert is a Bad Smell for him. Bakery is Good Smell.

He’s low empathy, and poor at reading social situations, and this is why he hasn’t noticed Marinette’s huge crush on him. He’s got high compassion though, which is what’s important.

Special interest in physics. And videogames. Maybe also fencing? And Ladybug. Definitely has a special interest in Ladybug.

He’s learnt to not infodump. The hard way. He tries so hard. But Nino lets him, and that’s fantastic.

Speaking of fencing, and piano, he has mild dyspraxia and he used to struggle a lot with both but by practicing for a long time they’ve helped him improve his coordination a lot. The suit also helps.

Gabriel Agreste is also autistic

He never actually looks people in the eye, but neither him nor others notice this as he‘s gotten very good at pretending and just assumes everyone is like that.

Agreste fashion is all made of Good Materials, thankfully, so while sometimes photoshoots can be uncomfortable with all the flashing lights and standing in certain ways, at least the clothes don’t feel awful.

He doesn’t like light touch, but he’s fine with firm touches and actually loves physical affection

He Has Anxiety

He dissociates often but he doesn’t have blank spots. His brain won’t let him not remember things like that.

He’s a startlingly fast learner. His teachers don’t know what to do with him. He has no problems with the work they do at school and he puts barely any energy into it and still gets A+ on everything

He just does not have the inbuilt social understanding that other people do and no one has taught him anything really. His father has taught him to be polite and that's about it. But all of his social interactions? Scripted. Constructed. Completely artificial.And I mean, that's not to say he doesn't care or doesn't have emotions. But he does not know how to express those emotions like other people.

Kagami is also autistic, clearly. The friendship game episode? With the awful queued smiling? Adrien does the exact same thing, he's just far more practiced at it.

It's like "Oh yeah people make eye contact and when they do they smile at each other, so I should do that"

Adrien:"When one person likes another person it's common to express that feeling by telling them something you like about them" proceeds to give incredibly strange but completely heartfelt compliment "yes that's correct. Good job Adrien" complimented person is bewildered and vaguely offended but he doesn't notice.

When he was little he did not understand how to express emotions or, like, how to be a person? How people work? But he read a lot of stories, lots of books, and from them built a library of expected behaviors and scripts of how to behave in different scenarios until it became second nature.

Unless he comes across a situation he hasn't encountered or heard of before he's pretty good at looking neurotypical.

Even then, sometimes he'll get a scenario wrong, but generally he's really good at masking. It's exhausting but he's required to be good at it. His father would be upset if he let his mask slip.But yeah there are some situations he's simply not encountered before.And he can get all stuck like something getting caught in gears in those situations

Part of why he loves being Chat Noir is that he can test scenarios that he can't as Adrien. It's still scripted, it's just based on the more daring heroes from his stories.The dashing rogues, etc.

Every autistic burns out eventually. Especially one in the spotlight so often.When it just gets too damn tired to act like how a person is supposed to act.

And someone notices

Say, how about Nino?

It's just them and Adrien is tired, overwhelmed, and he just doesn't have the energy to mask anymore. He looks at Nino blankly when he makes jokes, takes everything literally, does not follow threads of conversation and completely misses so many things. It's a bit more gradual than that but, just a gradual break down of the usual mask that is Adrien Agreste. He starts fidgeting a lot more, maybe rocking back and forth a bit while they're studying or something. Adrien starts replying in very clipped sentences, because words have gotten tricky at this point. Nino is worried and real confused? I dunno if he's come across anyone like this before. But he's patient and kind. These are the times the mask comes down because he just can't keep it up any longer. But, as Nino shows his kindness in those moments, Adrien comes to trust him and starts to let the mask down a bit even when he doesn't have to. Just letting himself be himself. And there's plenty of miscommunication when he does that, awkward moments, but Nino is patient and kind and good and proves to be a Good Damn Friend. Adrien dropping his mask also comes as him just talking and talking about his special interests, info dropping like a boss. And Nino is Here For That Man, Yeah. Long long conversations about shared interests, it's Good Shit

He's such a Good Damn Friend.

The other person who sees him unmask is his Lady, of course. In moments after very stressful battles, or just because he's feeling good today and this is His Lady and he wants to tell her about This Thing He Loves. And those are the moments when Ladybug starts to fall in love with him. Not romantic love, necessarily. At least, I mean, I assume they'll get to that in the show at some point. But just, platonic love at this point. Because he’s not being a show off, he’s just being a wonderfully nerdy boy who is so genuine and full of sunshine and wow.

Oh also this masking thing? Makes Adrien a naturally good liar. So suddenly having to lie about his identity was not hard. It's a bit of a double edged sword though. Because he's so good at scripting, he's basically acting and in that sense lying with his masking with all his interactions, so it's easy to expand that into true lying. But he also doesn't understand the nuances of social interactions, can't tell when someone can tell he's lying, can't read those situations well.Also, being bad at reading social queues makes him very gullible and easy to manipulate

Also? Absolutely undiagnosed. And that definitely makes things worse. Oh, I'd say Natalie suspects such a thing. Gabriel's probably completely in denial, if he's thought of it at all. Nino is maybe the one to slowly start picking up on it. Or Ladybug, with Chat.

[perpustakawan]

Asal Usul Bukit Tagiok

Published by Dewan Bahasa dan Pustaka Brunei in an unknown year. Written by Lamat Ja’afar. Story told by Tasim Lamat. Illustrated by Rahim Ahmad.

Bukit Tagiok is a hill that’s believed to be the source of rivers in Brunei hundreds of years ago during a great drought that turned the land a brick shade of red. The drought was called ‘The Nine Year Drought’ (Kemarau sembilan tahun) and water was severely scarce to the point that many hills turned into volcanoes. A name dropped in this book is Bukit Tabor Bintang- a hill that was previously a volcano until rivers started flowing. Geographically, Brunei does not have volcanoes and though our lands are hilly, volcano formation is unlikely to happen but I want to point out something interesting and my own little theories.

The 9-year-long drought reduced the water source of the whole country to one single well in Kampong Manggis. The height of the water is less than one’s ankles and its situated at the far bottom of the well. Seven different ladders, tied together at each end had to be use for the villagers to climb up and down. Usually they would queue up but knowing Bruneian’s haughty, selfish and petty behavior, fights that end up with killing happened a lot over water. Every single day. With the glaring heat and a large body count of people, the living, plagued in fatigue merely piled the dead bodies on top of one another and covered them in buckets of dirt to make the buriers less guilty. These poorly made graves turned into hills over time. The two greater hills were called Pungsu Timbunan and they’re the closest to the well as that’s where the killing usually happened.  

After some time, a Chinese man appeared with a jambol (a kinda haircut) and in his hand was a hammer and a nail thing. Curious on what this stranger was doing in their bare Malay lands, the villagers watched him place the nail at the base of a hill and hammer away. Water flooded out of the base of hill to the low lands to create a river. The Malays were overjoyed and their life prospered because, just like the current events, it is China that helped this struggling nation.

The Chinese man disappeared and now, the villagers, faced a even bigger dilemma; the water kept rushing in non-stop that the lowlands are the riverbeds and the highlands are the new lowlands. Sharks, crocodiles and other ocean creatures migrated to the river, namely Sungai Damaran via a channel in Sungai Mangsalut. The Chinese man, who the locals fondly call ‘Kina Bejambol’ appears, no emotions in his face and put a giant-ass rock at the hill opening. The flood stop and our hero vanished again. After some time, the villagers found a giant caterpillar resting on the flat rock of the hill base and decided to name the hill after the caterpillar instead of the man who literally saved the whole country. The Tagiok in Bukit Tagiok derived from the Bruneian word ‘giok’ which means caterpillar.

Fun fact: the rock Kina Bejambol used was flat so it’s called Batu Betilam. It’s believed that if you knock on it hard enough, it’ll sound hollow, like a well full of water. I’m not entirely sure if you can find the hill in modern day as putting ‘Bukit Tagiok’ on Waze had no results. But! Sungai Mangsalut and Bukit Tabur Bintang does exist in current day! 

Perhaps, this story is based on real events- which brings me to:

THEORY TIME

The drought lasted for 9 years and there was no mention of a Sultan. My first theory was that the story took place in the era of the Bruneian Civil War that lasted for about 13 years. The same war that started over a cockfight and two sultans were fighting over the throne. With constant war, rations are low and the drought could just be symbolizing the dread, danger and neglect the people feel amidst war. Sabah during the time was under Brunei, so Sabah’s Mount Kinabalu’s name origin being from the word ‘Aki Nabalu’ – the revered place of the dead is such a coincidence with the Pungsu Timbunan in the story. Maybe their hill is made of piles of dead bodies too?

But that doesn’t match up. Mount Kinabalu has many origins, particularly involving widows and there isn’t a mention of a widow in this book. The events could not have happened during the Bruneian Civil war as its mentioned in history how one of the Sultans fled to Pulau Chermin, stuffed the royal crown and jewelries into a canon and shot it into the ocean where it remained lost. Water existed and Brunei back then wasn’t a barren land as chickens were healthy and used for cock fights- if there was a severe drought then, no one would have time to fool around with gambling with chickens.

This brings me to my second theory: the story took place wayyyyy longer in time. Before the first recorded sultan, Sultan Muhammad Shah came to the picture and Brunei back then, was ruled by an unknown chief who wasn’t Muslim. It’s noted from far back that Brunei, through different names had very close relationships with China so that might explain why our Chinese hero came to be. This makes sense cause, historically, Awang Alak Betatar (Sultan Muhammad Shah’s name before embracing Islam) and his siblings and crew screamed “BARU NAH” (‘There!’) on a SHIP meaning water was already present in the river canals.

But this doesn’t match up either because Kampong Manggis was mentioned in the story. There isn’t any historical records mentioning when Kampong Manggis was called Kampong Manggis. I don’t have info but the fact it’s only called Kampong Manggis instead of something more archaic sounding like, Tabur Bintang, Pandai Besi, gives me the impression that Kampong Manggis is a relatively new Kampong established in modern Brunei. I can’t even recall a folk story involving the kampong too so until further info is available, both my theories of this story is flawed.

Before I end this blog post, I wish to share that I am certain that his story isn’t a silly made up story like Dayang Dengan Timun because of the insert at the very first page by the director:

In today's wave of modern society, views are not always focused on one impression. The separation gap is too obvious, when the view is absorbed from the ideals of intellect and the mind is not limited to certain norms.

The natural response is to say that all folk tales are mere fairy tales, and are not suitable and in accordance with the current state of society. This response is very detrimental. This loss is not for individuals, but for all who are entitled to it.

Folklore has a distinctive position in literature. Its role is no less important than other ancient literary works. Disclosure of stories in the form of history, education, prominence and others in the form of books, is a practical and effective method.

This series of folk tales is rewritten from the speeches of the elders. Through cultural acculturation it is not impossible that these folk tales have similarities with the folk tales in this archipelago. The treasury of these folklore will be a ristaan ​​and a point of reference for future generations who will most likely not hear these folk tales spoken by the elders. By recording these folk tales directly can also curb the extinction of these stories from disappearing just like that.

It is hoped that, in accordance with its potential as reading material, this book is suitable for additional reading of children in particular and adults in general.

This is one of the many local stories unheard of by not only my generation but my father’s too. It is by luck they managed to turn this into a book but it makes me wonder of the rest that are gone forever. This also means that any theory I throw on whether or not this event actually happened will not come to life because of this country’s lack of records in their own history (and uh, censorship. Lots of history have been omitted out of textbooks to disappear for good).