#Political Doofuses

[rbatt014]

Walking Spanish

People don’t know who I am. But more than enough people know who Roy Edroso is. I sorta came to him by way of his blog (how could you forget a band name like his?), and now he is a Substacker, which I am happy to pay for even if I don’t have the time to read him every day. He’s kind of like I am, wandering into musings about culture and politics, but he’s also a master satirist and deep thinker.…

[draphrawrites]

Dabihawks Domestic Doofuses Pt 2

Twitter Threads Pt 3 || Prev Next

Originally posted June 3rd, 2021

Keigo wouldn’t actually yeet Dabi’s first aid stuff for his cologne collection, but Dabi seems to have this weird idea that Keigo is vain and self-centered.

So, Keigo plays into it a bit.

“And you need your wings preened daily... why?” Dabi asks, running his warm fingers through Keigo’s feathers in firm, smooth strokes. Keigo’s eyes roll back, but he keeps his voice even despite his chin being smushed into a pillow.

“Commission standards,” he gets out.

“And those standards entail..?” Dabi pries, actually sounding curious.

They’re laid out on the bed with Keigo’s left wing draped like a blanket across Dabi’s lap. The villain is sitting cross-legged, his long fingers combing through Keigo’s wings for the third time this week.

It’s only Monday.

Dabi doesn’t seem to mind. It’s almost like it’s as relaxing to him as it is to Keigo. 

‘Almost’ being the operative word here. Keigo’s bones feel melted and his muscles have unbound from years of clinging to each other in stress-induced desperation.

In short, Keigo’s never been a puddle before, but he’s pretty sure he’s on his way. 

“Pretty for the public,” he eventually replies to Dabi’s query. “That’s the standard. Beat up is acceptable too, but only after a fight. And only if I won the fight.”

Full sentences are getting harder for Keigo the more Dabi warms his hands. Then he notices them getting a bit TOO warm. 

“Dabi?” He asks, peeking over his shoulder to look at the villain. Dabi’s expression is stony. 

“Only pretty or in pain,” he repeats. “That’s fucked up.”

Keigo grimaces. He hadn’t meant for it to sound that way, even if it was true. Mostly he’d wanted an excuse for Dabi to preen him more often because it felt amazing. If Dabi thought it was for pretty privilege reasons, he could bitch about it.

If he thought it was a manipulation or abuse on the Commission’s end, though... that could spell trouble. For both the Commission and Keigo’s daily preening sessions. 

“It’s nothing outside the norm, you know...” he mutters quietly. “Lots of celebrities are required to keep certain standards.”

“Who told you being beat to shit was an acceptable standard?” Dabi growls low in his chest. Keigo can feel the anger practically vibrating through his feathers. Oddly, he feels touched. Dabi getting protective of him is... kinda hot.

New, too. Their arrangement thus far has been moving into scarily domestic territory, wherein affection and teasing are more the norm than aggression and sarcasm. Actual protective instincts though? That’s new. Normal Dabi would tell him ‘you’re the one with a thousand knives strapped to your back. You can handle yourself.’

So, call Keigo a little curious about this new turn of events. He arches an eyebrow at Dabi and contemplates how he wants to answer.

“It’s not like anyone told me it was ‘okay’ or anything,” he says slowly.

“More like I was congratulated for good work by my media relations team after a hard fight. If I was looking less than my best without a fight involved, I’d usually get a politely-worded email reminding me of public perception.”

Dabi absorbs that for a moment, idly stroking Keigo’s feathers. “No looking tired or pissed?” He muses. “I really would’ve made a shitty hero then.”

Keigo’s not sure he was meant to hear that last bit, but he does and it makes him blink.

“I think you would have made a good hero,” he counters, surprised to realize he means it. Dabi looks down at him in disbelief.

“Why the fuck would you think that?” he asks, voice sounding almost strangled. Keigo winces, hoping he hasn’t just poked a nerve.

“You’re passionate about taking down false heroes,” he says delicately. “Unwavering, really. And you fight even when the odds are stacked against you.” Before he can stop himself, he’s sitting up so he can face Dabi - more examples spilling from his lips unchecked.

“You pretend not to care for the League, but they all look to you when their own convictions waver. And they come to you when they need help.” Dabi tries to protest, but Keigo isn’t finished.

“You’re also really good with your quirk, even if it hurts you. Not many people have both power and control while knowing their limits, but I’ve seen you fight. You know exactly how much you can do before you have fall back. I know a lot of heroes who could use a little less ego and a little more sense like that.”

Dabi stares at him with wide eyes, mouth hanging slightly open. Then he forces himself to laugh.

“That ‘control’ was learned the hard way, in case you hadn’t noticed,” he says wryly, gesturing to himself. “Unless they’re giving out awards for not wanting any more fucking burns.”

Keigo tilts his head thoughtfully. “That’s fair. It doesn’t mean that knowing your limits and following them isn’t a rare trait, though.” He shrugs when Dabi looks at him. “Forty-two percent of hero fatalities come from heroes biting off more than they can chew.”

Dabi is quiet for a moment longer before he jerks his chin, indicating Keigo to lay back down. He does, hoping that the surprisingly serious talk hasn’t killed the laid-back mood. But Dabi just resumes stroking through his feathers, smoothing out the vanes as he goes.

The silence stretches for so long, in fact, that Keigo is almost dozing by the time Dabi speaks again.“And how long before you bite off more than you can chew?”

Keigo blinks, heart beating harder inside his chest, not wanting to think about it. Not wanting to acknowledge that he’d already done so when he decided to play house with a villain, knowing it could only end in some kind of betrayal. Either of his career or the guy he bullies into making pancakes for him.

“Well, I’ll just have to trust that you and your common sense will set me straight, I guess,” he says, snuggling deeper into Dabi’s lap. The villain hums in response, his fingers simply playing with Keigo’s feathers now, seemingly lost in thought. 

Keigo lets Dabi drift, his own thoughts returning to how much easier this would be if Dabi were a hero. And how much he meant it when he said Dabi had the potential. It niggles at him. The realization that Dabi could have been in the same boat as Keigo. The standard of ‘pretty or pained’ combined by virtue of his appearance. 

It bothers him, he realizes. To have those standards applied to Dabi. To think of him getting those stupid emails because he looked tired.

Maybe, Keigo thinks, leaning further into Dabi’s warmth. Maybe Dabi’s right.

Maybe it is fucked up.

Twitter Threads Pt 3 || Prev Next

[ncteez]

Expert Adversary. (m.t)

m.list | ao3 | minors dni! otherwise please like and reblog my works!! 

requested by @peach-gummy​​: “Ok bestie, I know we joke about this a lot but I’m desperate lmao…Can I request an enemy to lovers coworker Taeil?! I love softness but the smut parts?…writer’s choice.”

wordcount― 15.6k

pairing― moon taeil x fem reader

description― Your promotion was stolen by a new hire and you’re doing everything in your power to hate him for it. After all, that promotion was rightfully yours. This task proves to be much more difficult than anticipated because the man is nothing but sweet, polite, and eager to help. His dopey ways make it far too easy for you to accept that, maybe, just maybe, you’d be okay if he kept the position.

Or the one where you do everything you can to hate the new lead of your team, but you end up in bed with him instead.

content― enemies to lovers, office romance, very soft top taeil, fluff, taeil is a big dopey man who is technically your boss now, you boss him around tho, co workers: taeyong, haechan, doyoung, drinking nights with the dudes, taeil just likes fitting in. 

note― requested by my best friend in the whole universe, who I love with my whole heart and would still throw under the bus to eat mark’s ass.  If she hadn’t requested it, it would have been fully dedicated to her either way. On that note, I had fun writing this one and naturally, I didn’t proofread. 

tag list:  @aedreamzy, @ahgastayzen, @subhyuck, @mrkis, @zealhaechan, @glitchyuck, @multihoe-net, @infnteen​

smut tags under cut:: 

nsfw tags― making out, slight grinding, fingering, oral (m receiving),swallowing, deep penetration, tbh it’s mostly just very normal sex with your hot boss while your co-workers are passed out in the living room, there's some talk about gagging while giving head, and listening in on sex.

 ~ 

        6 months. You waited 6 long, exhausting months for this day only to have it shattered right before your eyes. You put in the work, put in the hours, trained long and hard for this, but it’s been pulled right from your grasp from some…new hire? You should have listened to Taeyong when he told you that the company rarely promotes from within, stating that he got passed over before too. You thought you may be an exception, that maybe you could be the one to break the cycle and become a leader of your own team. The raise would have helped, and the workload would have increased but you were ready and so fucking willing to do it for this god-forsaken company. But no. “We just don’t think you’re qualified to move up yet.” They said, after weeks of training you to do the job. “We found a great opportunity with an up-and-coming employee and we couldn’t afford to pass him over.” They said, rubbing salt in the wound. 

            This is the worst Friday you think you’ve ever experienced in the world of corporate Hell. The drinks you’d planned with Taeyong and the other doofuses at the same level on your team, for celebration of course, were more needed now than ever. It was a night of bitching and whining over drinks bought for you from the group of coworkers, which by now you should be calling friends. 

            Haechan was the loudest, acting more upset than you when he found out the news. Taeyong gave you attitude, the whole ‘I told you so’ talk coming far too soon for you to point back with sass.  Doyoung, of course, stayed pretty silent despite his stern look of disapproval. You were shocked to learn he was at the same level as you at work, considering he looks and acts as though he owns the place. And those are the closest friends you have in this shit hole of a company. 

            There are two other women tagging along solely because they care about you, and come to you when they’re having a hard time with the boss because you’re safe. You don’t run to HR at the mere mention of someone having a fat ass, nor do you mock or roll your eyes if a client brings tears to their eyes. You are their friend, of course, but it feels more like a protective friendship than the friendship you share with the guys. The women lean on you, but you can’t quite lean on them considering the years you’ve wasted with this company compared to their mere months of being here.

            You appreciate the uproar of your lost promotion, talks of how they will riot on Monday, how they will spike the coffee with laxatives, how they will leave the bathroom without toilet paper. You laugh alongside the bright faces surrounding you, all equally as exhausted with the memo pads and spreadsheets. Despite the shattering of your confidence and the insecurity pouring back into you in terms of this job, at least you’ve made friends. 

  ~

            Come Monday morning, Haechan was the first to meet you in the parking lot, checking you over to make sure your fragile ego is as high as it can be. Today is the day you meet the new lead of your team, the fresh new hire who will likely have it out with you the moment you take a shortcut or don’t do something by the book. You’re nervous, but more than that, the weekend allowed your feelings to fester. You’re frustrated, angry, and appalled. You can be a better lead than this man, surely. You know the company inside and out.

            You created some of the tasks and rules that you and your team have to go by. Who organized the job? You did. Who kept the team in high spirits? You did. And who got to take over the team? That motherfucker. 

            You are somehow more angry by the time Doyoung shows up, backpack thrown over his shoulder as always, and today you don’t even laugh at the way his professional attire is clashing with the raggedy college backpack he’s clearly used for years. Not to mention, the man insists on dressing like a damn CEO rather than following the business casual dress code. It’s so strange that he’s become part of this close-knit circle of people you call friends, considering how little he offers to the group outside of when he’s drunk. Still, you don’t make fun of his backpack, or his stupid cupcake keychain that he swears his mom forces him to keep for ‘good luck’. 

            As the three of you are walking in, Taeyong joins the triumphant walk to the third floor of what you would call failure. If there were a song playing as you and your group walk, it would be the tiny violin song that Mr.Krabs plays for Spongebob in the episode “Squilliam’s Return.” It’s a dropping feeling with each step to the third floor, knowing that soon, you’re going to be meeting a man who stole your place, a man who is likely smiling and happy to have a job you earned. 

  ~

            He wasn’t sitting on your desk as expected with a shiny golden crown, demanding that the team kneel before him. He didn’t even show up until late noon, which you assume was after he got done being given the run down by the boss in his office. 

            His face was bright, smiling as you would have expected. You couldn’t help but grimace as he was being led towards your cubicle. You glance behind him to see Haechan pop his head over his own cube, snarling at the new man who has no idea there’s already beef to be had with him. 

“Y/n, this is Mr.Moon.” 

            You hold back a laugh, because really? On any other day you’d think the name was charming, cute, even, but not today. Moon man can go fuck himself. 

“Taeil, actually. You can call me Taeil.” The man interrupts, leaning himself towards you with his hand outstretched. “I don’t really like the titles if I’m being honest.” 

            Your boss beams at the Moon man as if he were the greatest man alive. You’re unsure why, and to be honest, you’re sure Haechan is going to make jokes about how your boss probably got his ass eaten for him to give the promotion to this new guy. 

“Casual, I like it.” Your boss speaks out to him. “Well, I’ll leave the introductions to you then. Remember to come to my office before we leave for the day.” And then he’s off, doing whatever bosses do. 

            Taeil stands there awkwardly, staring at you with his hand still awkwardly outstretched.

“What?” You say to him, cocking a brow and turning back to your spreadsheets. 

“You didn’t introduce yourself?” He says it like a question, in a voice more polite than you could have imagined coming from a man who is making bank, at your place of employment. 

“Did he not just greet me by name?” You question as you swivel back around towards the man, bitterness coming out in tone and body language. 

“I—uh—” He laughs at himself, glancing away for a moment. “Listen, I’m really nervous and didn’t quite catch your name.” He says in a slight whisper, the professionalism in his posture disappearing for a moment. 

“Mr.Moon—” You go to say.

“Taeil.” He corrects you quickly.

“Taeil, I’m Y/n, and I would really like to get back to this very important project.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry.” He says, backing away with his hands up. “I didn’t mean to slow you down.” He continues, almost as if he’s rambling. “I’ll be over in my—uh..” He stumbles a bit, clearly very nervous for his first day. 

“In your office, got it.” You finish for him, turning back to your computer and allowing him to fuck off to an office that was just ripped from your hopes and dreams.

  ~

  “Okay but, he’s kind of nice though.” Taeyong tip-toes around the point as he sips his drink. A full week of dealing with Taeil proved to be difficult for you, mostly because he has become so well-liked so fucking fast. Everyone seems to love him, everyone but you. 

“That’s just because he’s trying to impress everyone. I give him another week before he starts letting the power go to his head.” You retort, slamming down your own drink and glaring at your sharp-jawed friend. 

“Y/n, what power?” He questions you seriously this time, a little fed up with the way you’re making this situation much more unbearable for yourself than Taeil is. “He’s our boss, technically, but he’s still low level. . . “

            You look up at Taeyong with a bit of hurt in your eyes. As if you hadn’t fought for this promotion like it were the final point in a mission. As if your confidence with this company hasn’t been shot down time and time again, you wonder if your college degree was the right one to go for. Taeyong notices this change in your face, quickly back peddling his words.

“I mean, I know it’s a big deal to you, Y/n, honestly, I get it.” He tries to save the situation, not wanting there to be even more tension at work. “You deserved the job, and it is a big deal. It really is, but I think you’re giving this company too much power over you.”

            His save wasn’t a save at all. It was more scolding. You call over for another drink and stare at the table as if you’re just a child who refuses to eat her veggies. 

“You don’t have to like him, but don’t make yourself miserable.” Taeyong continues, going from sipping his drink to gulping it. “He’s way nicer than you think he is, he didn’t even write me up for being on youtube…” He trails off, trying to save face for himself, but doing it for Taeil instead.

“I wouldn’t have written you up either.” You continue to argue, lowering your voice when the waitress comes over to get your new drink order, and when she’s off to get your drink, you continue. “It isn’t fair. I would have done so well.”

“I know.” Taeyong sighs out. “But you’ve been so mean to him, like I genuinely think he almost cried the other day when he left your cubical.”

            You widen your eyes a bit, trying to remember out of the countless snarky comments you’ve said to him, which could have been the one that would make him cry. 

“What? Really?” You smile a bit. “Maybe it was when I told him to stop bothering me?” You start down the list of things you’ve said. “Or maybe when he asked if I needed anything from the break room, and I told him that the only thing I needed was for him to leave me the hell alone?”

            Taeyong cringes, not realizing he was so close to such a cold person all over a promotion in a company none of you intended to stay at forever. 

“Oh! I bet it was when he complimented my hair and I told him ‘Wish I could say the same for you.’” 

“Um—” Taeyong cuts in now. “You do realize how petty you sound right now, right?”

            You pull back a bit, noticing quickly that you were finding joy in breaking Taeil’s confidence. 

“It’s a new job for him, and you’re being a blatant asshole like that?” He questions, but he doesn’t stop. “How would you feel if you got that promotion, and someone treated you like this?” And now Taeyong decides to get technical. “I’d suggest you tone it down because HR could find out and get you for creating a hostile work environment.”

“I am not making it hostile!” You argue, ignoring the waitress as she hands you your drink. “He made it hostile by taking the fucking job!” 

“Now you just sound like a baby.” Taeyong insults, leaning back with his arms crossed. “It’s not like the boss told him he stole the position.”

            For the first time, you think about it. You think about how Taeyong is kind of hyping this guy despite the disapproval of the situation, you really did deserve the promotion and you can tell he believes that. You think even harder about how you saw Haechan and Taeil laughing together in the break room as they grabbed their morning coffee on Wednesday. Haechan, your sharpest shooter, giggling like a high-school girl with the man that is the direct cause of your inner turmoil. 

“Okay.” You breathe out, swirling your glass and taking a hefty sip. “I’ll play nice. But—the moment he steps on my toes, it’s over.” 

“Great, I’ll call him now!” Taeyong claps his hands, needing the greenlight from you in some way, shape, or form. 

“Call him?!” You set your drink down and lean forward in panic. “Why?!” 

“Haechan is on his way too, stop worrying.” Taeyong waves you off, texting Taeil to ask if he wants to get drinks. 

“Why do you even have his number?” You continue to pry, trying to swipe his phone out of his hand to avoid the very idea of Taeil sitting at the table you’ve titled a safe place.

“The guys and I had drinks with him on Wednesday, he invited us.” Taeyong smiles, pressing send on the message and looking at you innocently. “He said he didn’t invite you because you seemed too busy.”

            For some reason, you’re offended the offer wasn’t extended to you. It was unprofessional of him to not at least ask if you wanted to come. Then again, you aren’t really being the most professional either.

“Anyway, he’s on his way too.” Taeyong smiles harder when he sees the immediate text reply from Taeil, like he’s won some sort of game as he watches you writhe in the booth across from him. “He’s funny when he drinks, you’ll see.”  He assures you this time, reaching over to grab your hand. 

“Like hell I will.” You try to block any possibility that you could be friends with this man. You almost want to pull yourself up out of this booth and leave, but unfortunately, you’re a little drunk, and you drove here.  Throwing your face in your hands, you do your best not to hate Taeyong in this moment. 

“You said you’d play nice.” He clicks his tongue, crossing his arms again. “Besides, it’s not like it’s a date. Haechan and I  will be here too.” 

            It’s a fair point, honestly. You can talk with them while ignoring Taeil the whole time if you wanted to, right? 

“What about Doyoung? Is he coming?”

            Taeyong laughs and turns his phone to you. “He left me on read, but he would probably come if you asked him to.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You tilt your head, wondering if Doyoung does have a little bit of slut in him or something. 

“He likes hanging out with you, I think it’s because he likes to argue.” Taeyong shuts down the idea that maybe Doyoung wants to hit it. You go back to mulling over the idea of Taeil being in this booth soon instead of worrying about it.

“I don’t need two people to be mad at tonight.” 

“Fair enough, so I guess that means you’re not mad at me?” He asks, calling the waitress over again for a drink. She’s probably getting annoyed in all honesty. 

“No.” You say in a huff, dropping your head to the table for a moment before looking back up at him. “You’d better be right about him though because I’m not about to have to deal with him for every single drink night.”

  ~

            Haechan. Will. Not. Shut. Up. Specifically asking Taeil all sorts of questions with a slur in his voice. Where was he from? Did he like video games? What’s his favorite movie? Does he like to read? All of it, you could care less about it despite learning all sorts of interesting things. Moon man. The moon man who stole your job, his favorite cereal is cheerios? Just boring fucking cheerios? What a loser. 

            Despite all of this, and despite Taeyong watching you like a hawk, the night continues and it becomes…less stressful you could say. It’s probably the drinks, but maybe Taeil is a little funny. Specifically, in the way he scrunches his nose every time Haechan tries to pry into his intimate life. It’s funny in the way he denies Haechan when you don’t. That man knows practically everything about you, and just the idea that he has all of this shit on you, all of these things he could drunkenly tell the man in front of him, it makes you feel vulnerable. Almost like you want Taeil to share some of his own dirt. 

              You notice your new boss’s ears become redder and redder, and his smile becomes brighter and brighter. Only just now are you genuinely looking at him, after a full week of avoiding eye contact and not wanting to pick apart his appearance—he’s actually quite good-looking. 

            His hair is kind of messy, which you do remember that he keeps it perfectly styled at work. You only know this from the amount of times you’ve made faces and given him the finger at the back of his head.

            You kind of hate to admit it, but this man doesn’t look like your boss. He doesn’t look like the type to enjoy this kind of work, but there he is, looking so happy that his new team is inviting him to drinks. And here you are, bitch-face central, sulking without even noticing it when he meets your eye.

            He doesn’t keep eye contact for long, all he does is smile a little bit wider for you before looking back to deny Haechan another attempt at getting dirt on him. It has to be the drinks. Honestly. You stare down at your empty glass and curse the idea that Taeil is so fucking likable, and deserves all of the hype Taeyong had given to him.

            As the hours pass, so do countless drinks. You had counted. Taeil only had three drinks and you can see that he must not do this too often. He’s slurring over such a small amount, laughing with Haechan and nudging Taeyong in his side each time he laughs a little louder. His eyes are so round and open like everything is brand new to him and nothing could put a damper on his day. Not even you.

            In your own drunken haze, you realize that this is the first time in an entire week that you’ve felt relief from not getting that promotion. Yes, you wanted it. But you would be lying if you said you were worried about how different it may be, how difficult it may be, and how many different ways you could fail. That wasn’t going to stop you though. You were more worried that if you didn’t get it, someone who didn’t care about this team would. That they would come in and walk all over everyone, that they would belittle and mock you for not being good enough.

            That never happened though, and instead, Taeil is sitting here having a hell of a time in your space as if you’d never said all of those mean things to him. He came to this job nervous, and that alone should have told you that he didn’t have the ego to treat you badly. 

“Hey—” You hear Taeyong whisper as he gently nudges your foot. “You’re staring.” He mouths out to you with a smirk, glancing between you and Taeil as if it were going to become new and juicy drama for Monday morning. 

“I am not.” You mouth back, seething the last word as you nudge him back with a little more force than you intended.

            That little nudge caused Taeyong to jolt up, hitting his knee on the table in an awkwardly loud bang. This brings the attention of the two others at the table to Taeyong, and as he smirks, their eyes go to you. 

“So, Taeil.” Taeyong brushes it off, as if to save you from the situation. “Are you single?” He asks politely, nudging you again under the table to make sure you were listening.

“Me?” Taeil slurs a bit, pointing to himself. “You’re asking me if I’m single?” He laughs like it’s some sort of joke, and in a way, you hope it is. Because what the fuck is Taeyong doing right now? 

            The way Taeil responds almost makes it seem like it’s laughable to even have to ask. With a face like that, with a personality like that, everyone should just assume he’s found the love of his life and married her at the ripe age of nineteen or something. 

“I am asking, yes.” Taeyong confirms, and Haechan jumps in with his own question. “You got any dogs?”

            All three of you look at Haechan with question, and he’s just sitting there with a drunken haze over his eyes like that question was obviously supposed to be the follow-up of whatever Taeyong was asking.

“Okay first of all—” Taeil chuckles out, glancing at you for some reason. Mostly to feel a little more comfortable over the fact that you’re in the same space and you haven’t insulted him yet. He’s sure it’s coming. “And most importantly, yes, I have two dogs.” 

            Haechan is happy, because he loves dogs. You’re a little happy too because that’s kind of cute. But also, is he single? You’re a little more interested now than you thought you would be. 

“And yes, I am single.”

            Taeyong claps his hands much like he did when you said you’d play nice. “Perfect!” 

“Perfe—what?” Taeil looks over at him in disbelief, because why is it such a good thing that he’s single?

“Oh!” Taeyong panics a little, backtracking on his prying and trying to explain himself. “I mean like, y/n is also single and—”

“No.” You say loud enough for all three of the men to hear, but not loud enough to cause a scene. 

“I think Taeyong needs to go to the bathroom.” You add, shoving Haechan to move, but he doesn’t budge. Instead, you end up having to crawl over him to get out of the booth. You’re a little clumsy when you do it, stumbling to your feet and staring at Taeyong as if to brush off the embarrassing maneuver you just had to perform.

“I don’t have to go to the bathro—”

“I think you do.” You almost demand this time and he’s throwing his hands up and ushering for Taeil to move so he can slide out of the booth himself.

            For a brief moment, before Taeyong had stood himself up, you noted Taeil standing next to you. He wasn’t looking at you and focusing on the ground probably to keep his stomach in check from standing up so fast, or maybe it was because Taeyong was being a stupid asshole. Regardless, he isn’t super tall which only adds to the fact that this man is unbearably endearing in this drunken moment. Three drinks to get him like this? Even if he didn’t give up any dirt to Haechan, you think this is dirt enough. 

            And as you practically drag Taeyong to the women’s restroom, for the first time in your career, he looks a little scared of you.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You ask, checking the bathroom to make sure no one is inside. 

“Hooking you up?” He laughs. “Obviously you’re into him.” 

            You turn and glare at him.

“Taeyong. I am just being nice like I said I would be.”

“Be nice? You’re staring a hole through him.” He laughs. “I saw you looking him up and down right before you dragged me into this bathroom, come on.”

“Not only do I not want to do anything past work with Taeil, but it’s literally against the policy!”

            Taeyong tilts his head. “Oh yeah.”

“Yeah!” You repeat his words to him for a moment. 

“Okay, so that was a bad idea. I’ll fix it.” He tries to apologize in the only way he knows how to, meddling even more. Convincing even more, being a charming asshole that always makes you second guess your own thoughts. “Let’s go back to your house and drink?” He laughs, stumbling a little as he tries to turn away. “It’s Haechan’s turn to pay for the uber anyway.” 

            You look at him in disbelief of that sudden subject change, and then you feel relief. If you go back to your house to continue drinking, Taeil won’t be invited. You guys can act as if the night is coming to an end, and instead of going your separate ways, only Taeil goes his separate way, right?

“Okay. We can go back to my house, but Taeyong—I swear to god.”

“I know, I know! I’m sorry!” He mutters as he leans forward for his all too famous drunken Taeyong hugs, and then he whispers quite loudly. “I’m just saying though.”

  ~

              So, Taeyong is a fucking liar. After explicitly telling him that the only way the party will continue at your house is if Taeil isn’t invited. Well, guess who he fucking invited?

“He looked so sad!” Taeyong whispers to you in his defense as you drag him to your room in anger. The entire uber ride was awkward as hell as you immediately sobered up beside Taeil, who was laughing at memes on his phone and completely unaware of the fact that you hated this.

“You can’t just invite people to my house!” You’re actually, genuinely upset with him over this. He should have been happy enough that you agreed to let him come the first time, but now it’s just annoying.

“You’re seriously having a bad time?” Taeyong looks at you with disappointment. “I’m sorry about the whole asking if he’s single thing. He thought it was a joke! Just have fun, jesus.”

            As much as Taeyong does not have a place to tell you what to do in your own home, what’s done is done, and sending your boss home, drunk, in an uber would do nothing but show him how much you dislike him. You’d rather not be that much more obvious about it. And so, with the alcohol in your kitchen surely to be gone by tomorrow, you mentally buckle yourself in for the night that never should have taken place.

  ~

              Taeil is adorable. Fucking soft, gentle, maybe even delicate. Never would you have admitted this before, but now, as you sit across from him on your living room floor, you cannot fucking help it. Maybe Taeyong was right. Maybe you were staring because despite how much you thought you hated this man, you kind of think he’s a fucking pleasure to be around. 

            Three in the morning is the perfect time to realize that you were being a bitch. So, there, right in the middle of the 5th drinking game of the night, you pull your eyes away from Taeil for just a moment to look at Taeyong. Of course, his own hooded eyes are looking back at you as if he already knows. He knew he was right, he just needed you to spend a few hours with Taeil to see it yourself. You nod at Taeyong, who continues the game.

“Taeil.” You say his name, wincing at how loud your voice came out. “Come to the kitchen with me to get more drinks?” You ask politely, more quiet this time. He almost instantly stands to his feet to follow you.

            The voices from the living room get quieter, almost muffled by either the walls between you now or maybe it’s the ringing in your ears. It feels a little bit intimate being in the kitchen alone with Taeil. He’s the first to break the silence, which you’re thankful for because you almost immediately forgot what you were trying to do in the first place upon being alone with him. 

“You’re really drunk.” He laughs out to you as you both struggle to make your way to the fridge. “You’re a lot nicer when you drink too.”

“You’re a lot cuter when I drink.” You say out without thought, slapping your hand over your mouth the moment you processed the words. 

“Oh?” Taeil beams, grabbing a bottle from your hand and taking a step back to lean against your counter as if he belonged there. “Only when you drink?”

            You look to the floor, avoiding eye contact again. 

“I think you’re pretty when I drink too.” He tries to ease the tension that seems to have taken over your body, setting the bottle down beside him. “I never would have imagined drinking with you of all people though.” 

“Okay, okay.” You try to shush him when you go to rush out of the room, face feeling warm and stomach bubbling with the large amount of alcohol you’ve already had. 

“Hey, wait—” Hey calls out softly, the slur in his voice so obvious that you genuinely hope he doesn’t remember he’s at your house right now. “Y/n, come here.” He says again, pushing himself off of the counter and doing his best to stand up straight.

            You stop in your tracks for a moment to turn and look at him. You’re seeing two of everything but him, and it’s a little hard to focus, it’s a little hard to understand what’s happening, all of it is a little hard. You find yourself stepping back towards him.

“Hm? They’re waiting.” You say, pointing your head towards the room where loud laughter can be heard.

“I just needed to say something, I guess—” Taeil says, scratching the back of his neck. “I’ve been meaning to say it but I’m always too nervous around you.” 

            That grabs your attention as you go to the side of him and lean yourself now against the counter.

“Well, now is the best time to say it, we can hope we don’t remember any of this tomorrow, right?”

            Taeil laughs a small laugh and nods, leaning back again and looking to your ceiling.

“I didn’t know you applied for this position, and when I found out what the company did, I tried to quit.” He admits, glancing around the room. “Taeyong told me not to, and that you’d be okay after some time.”

            You stiffen up, freezing in your place and wondering why the fuck Taeyong didn’t let him quit, but then you realize that Taeil kind of. . . is the perfect person for the job. The entire first week, not a single mishap had taken place. Not a single typo in an email, not a single deadline that wasn’t met. He slid into that job much easier than you’d expected for someone who didn’t know a thing about the functions of the company. You hate to say it, but—maybe he deserved this position. Maybe he wasn’t the one who fucked you over.

“I—” You pause. “I was really upset about it.” 

“I realized why you didn’t want to talk with me almost immediately after I found out.” He laughs a little. “I think I would have done the same thing if some new, fresh-faced shithead showed up to do my job.” 

            You kind of laugh with him this time, feeling a little bit weightless in this drunken state, almost hoping you do remember this conversation now. “I just think that maybe we can start over? Even if you didn’t get the job—” He pauses to scrunch his nose, like he did so many times towards Haechan. 

“I honestly don’t think I can do it without your help.” He admits, and it’s kind of like music to your ears. Being needed as an employee after slaving away for that company. Being needed and not belittled by the man that was given your promotion. 

            How could you be mad at him now? Honestly.

“I’m sorry I’ve been so mean.” You admit, looking at the unopen bottle of alcohol. “I really do hope we can move on from this and just. . . be normal at work.”

            Taeil finally looks at you, his smile just as bright as before. 

“Normal, huh?” He laughs, mocking your word choice a little. “I don’t know how normal I can be with someone who is so. . .” he gestures towards you. “working a few feet away from me.”

            You look at him and know now that it’s the alcohol talking. You aren’t sure if that’s an insult or something else, so you press him with a defensive look.

“Someone who is so what? What are you trying to say?” You ask in a tone a bit more serious, and you can practically see the anxiety pour into him.

“No! no, i mean like–” His eyes closed tightly and he sighs. “I just mean like, you’re really pretty. I’m trying to flirt when I shouldn’t, I’m sorry.” He admits, and it looks like he wants to hit himself. 

“Flattery won’t get you anywhere, Mr. Moon, that I can promise you.”

            And then you’re pushing yourself from the counter and walking out of the room, mostly to hide your face because surely he would see the smile that’s plastered itself there. You head straight back to the living room floor where the two, very wasted idiots, are arguing over a rule that you’d settled for them weeks ago. Thankfully, it looks like they don’t notice how wired you are from realizing the fact that your boss is hitting on you despite the amount of insults you’d thrown at him this past week. You feel a little weak.

  ~

            The following Monday was interesting. The anger you felt towards Taeil turning into something that felt a little more heavy and awkward than you anticipated. You remembered everything the two of you talked about, and you also remembered him fumbling with his phone at five in the morning to get a ride home. For some reason, you were sad that he didn’t crash on the couch like the other two assholes mooching your alcohol.

            Taeyong was quick to pry, but Haechan was even quicker. Poor Doyoung, feeling entirely left out and cursing himself for missing the night of drinking. The last thing he expected was to come into work to find you sipping your coffee and quietly speaking with Taeil in your cubical.

            For you it felt. . . like constant flirting? As if this wasn’t against policy, and as if Taeil was really walking the line in the corporate world that could easily get him written up. It’s flattering though, that he will find any excuse to come by your desk. He will ask you questions, suggest ideas, ask for feedback, and even bring you a snack or two that he “didn’t feel like eating anymore”. 

                        It was a little bit weird though, finding pleasure in all of this. Wanting to know more about Taeil, wanting to invite him again to the next drinking night, and most of all, learning that he is willing to do just about anything you ask of him. Whether it be to finish a stack of paperwork, or to deal with an angry client for you. He is all too eager to oblige and yeah, you’re taking advantage of it. Only because he seems to genuinely enjoy it though.

            In his mind, he thinks he would prefer to see you smile at him rather than insult him and make disappointed faces. He knows it’s not professional to go out with your team and get absolutely plastered, especially considering he only ever really drinks at work events or special occasions. Even then it’s about two drinks and he’s done. But this team? You guys don’t treat him like your boss, you treat him like a friend, a part of the team. Sure, you come to him for the final say in things, you go to him for feedback—but he needs that from all of you as well. Even though he mostly just goes to you for it.

            You had told him that flattery wouldn’t get him anywhere, but it seemed to have gotten him far enough already. You’re lighting up when he rounds the corner, your work is being done in a way that makes him want to dote on and on about how you deserved to get this job. It looms over him though, the fact that he was given the position over you, and he understands why there was tension before.

            But now? He kind of just—really likes you. He does think you’re pretty, and he thinks you’re funny too. Despite Taeyong’s little joke at the bar, he also wonders if you actually are single. Because if you are, maybe in the future he could ask you for drinks one on one? Maybe you’d accept, and maybe the two of you would have a great time. 

            But, of course, that’s against policy, and do you want to know what Taeil thinks of that policy? He thinks the CEOS can shove it right up their asses. As if he would respect them past being their employee after this little situation they caused. Selfish, money hungry, they probably hired him because he would accept less money than it would cost to promote you. That makes him frustrated and angry, and because of that, out of spite, he would be more than happy to break some rules with you. 

  ~

  “You? You’re the one suggesting it?” Haehcan laughs as he looks over at Taeyong. “Can you believe this shit?”

            Taeyong shakes his head, but smiles.

“Well, if she’s suggesting it, we might as well go.” He laughs. “Doyoung, you gonna come this time?”

            Doyoung instantly nods his head in agreement, opening his phone to probably put a note of ‘get drunk’ on his calendar. 

“Okay so, my house, right after we clock out?” You confirm, standing from the break room table and going to the door. “I’ll go let him know now if we are all in agreement.” 

            With three nods, you’re off to Taeil’s office for what felt like the 40th time that day, but his smile is just as bright as it always is when you walk in.

“Mr.Moon, you are required after work for drinks and shenanigans at my place.”

            He’s a little shocked, realizing that you and your little group of friends must do this quite often. “Go home and bring pajamas or something, they always crash at my place.” You add, looking him up and down. “You don’t have to, if that’s like, against the rules or something. But the offer is there.”

            Taeil is a little more shocked now, realizing he was just invited to the adult version of a sleepover at your place, instantly his cheeks feel a little warm at the invite. He’s a little excited, feeling as though he’s fitting in here better than he ever could imagine, and the fact that you are inviting him to your house to drink with your friends. He feels like he’s won. He repeats the situation in his head a few times, already knowing that he will not pass up this opportunity.

“So—?” You stand there with a cocked brow, waiting for him to answer but he just sits there.

“Oh! Yeah, sorry. I’ll be there.” He says frantically, waving you off in a way that he probably thinks he looks cool, calm, maybe even collected. 

            With that, you nod a small victory of getting to see another glimpse of Taeil outside of work, and it makes you laugh a little that he didn’t even correct you on the use of his “professional name”. 

  ~

            It felt like the longest four hours of your life waiting to clock out, wondering if Taeil really would show up with some stupid pair of pajamas to put on so he can crash on your kitchen floor. Thankfully, he wouldn’t feel weird because it’s exactly what the other three guys are going to do as well.

            Honestly, if the bosses found out about these drinking nights and sleepovers, surely you’d be labeled the company whore and you’d all be heavily reprimanded for it, but you don’t really care at this point. It’s not like you don’t invite the girls too, it just so happens that they have other things they want to do on Friday nights, and you don’t blame them for it.

            Doyoung shows up first, already in his loungewear with a case of beer and a bottle of whiskey. He’s a keeper for sure, the only one who ever actually brings the good alcohol out of politeness. Taeyong shows up second, throwing his bag down on your kitchen floor and immediately going to your bathroom because he ‘didn’t shower at home because he was ready to get fuuuuucked up’. And then, of course, Haechan. As per usual, shows up also in his pajamas with a shower bag, a pillow, and four different airplane bottles of alcohol. 

            Eventually, Taeil shows up. Taeyong is freshly showered, sitting at your kitchen table and writing down orders for takeout. Doyoung is lounging next to him, shocked to see Taeil walk through the door. He feels a little weird, being seen in his pajamas by his boss, and only just now realizes that he agreed to get utterly wasted with him as well. He instantly fixes his posture to greet Taeil. And of course, Haechan is in the shower, screaming out his order from the wide-open bathroom door because he has no shame.

“Taeil, what do you want to eat from generic restaurant?” You ask, noting that he’s still in his work attire. You wonder for a moment if he plans to sleep over with the others, but the question is answered the moment you see him plop down a bag onto your floor. 

            Ahh, he’s all in. Nice.

            The night continues in a flurry of lighthearted and slightly awkward small talk. Straight through dinner, and onto the first drinking game. Taeyong asks Taeil if he’s going to slip into something more comfortable, which was purposely suggestive. Taeil acted a little nervous about it, rubbing his hands on his slacks and laughing at himself. “I guess I probably should, shouldn’t I?”

            Off he went, changing into, surprisingly for some reason, a t-shirt and lounge pants. His hair moistened slightly at the front from where he must have thrown some water on his face while he was in the bathroom. You think he looks good like this, he looks comfortable, he looks like your friend and not your boss. 

            Now, as the four of you are all jammied up with random alcohol bottles surrounding you, the game starts, and the drinks begin to flow.

            Only a mere hour in and you can tell the vibe of the room is what you always hoped it would be. Happy. The room was lively with the playlist being controlled by none other than Taeyong. Haechan is being his normal, tipsy self in this moment, and only just now is Doyoung relaxing around Taeil. 

            It’s kind of soft in the way this man makes everyone love him. It’s just as scary as it is soft though, as you look at him more and more with each drink of your failed attempt with the game at hand. 

            Kings was a bore, the game dragging on, but the drunker you got, the more fun the night became. Leaning against your friends in a way that shows you’re feeling on top of the world. You’re shameless when you glance at Taeil, even more shameless when he’s already looking at you, and you end up making all sorts of flirty facial expressions back at him.

            Once that game ends and Haechan steals control of the playlist, never have I ever becomes a game of realization, Taeil somehow finding himself next to you the moment Taeyong free’d up his seat as he rushes to the bathroom. 

            He felt warm next to you, his laugh a little louder now that he isn’t across from you, and it vibrates throughout your body much like the music does. From his silent, soft chuckles at Haechan’s digs at Doyoung, to the guttural laughs at the genuinely funny things that happen. You find yourself drawn in more and more to him, with his soft shirt drooping against his collar bone, and his socked feet kicking out from time to time when he starts to laugh again.

            You wonder if the whole reason this night feels like this is because of Taeil. Even Doyoung has gotten comfortable to the point to get a little spicy with the game, and once Taeyong is back and makes a point to stare at his seat on the floor that had been stolen by the thief of the group, all he does is smile.

“What’s the question?” He pipes up as he plops down next to Haechan this time. 

“Never have I ever gagged when giving head.” Doyoung laughs, avoiding his drink like the plague because he has definitely never gagged, in fact, he’s probably the best at giving head. 

            Every single person aside from him drinks though, and for some reason, you’re a little shocked that Taeil has been intimate with another person. Maybe it makes you a little insecure, brain trailing off to thoughts of him going down on you and the horror of the possibility of him gagging.

“Mr. Moon!” Haechan laughs with a shout. “Really? You gagged?”

            Taeil doesn’t even look at you, he simply laughs, covering his mouth with his hand to try and block the loudness of it. “Well, yeah. It was the first time I did it!” 

“That’s fair. I gagged the first time too,” Taeyong offers, “you kinda get used to the taste, don’t you?”

            A circle of nods, and Doyoung, drunk and proud still not sipping from his cup. “I always liked the taste.” He states as if he were king of the castle. 

“Good for you—” You laugh. “but that question wasn’t fair and you know it. I obviously have gagged while doing it.” You shorten your laugh to a seethe, glaring at Doyoung. 

“Okay whatever, my turn!” Haechan pipes up, side-eying you. “Never have I ever fantasied about a co-worker.” 

            Clearly, against the rules of the game, Haechan is actually the first to drink. “I actually have, but the question still stands.”

            There’s a bit of awkward silence before Taeyong takes a drink, and then Doyoung. There’s no shame in it, right? You take a drink, having been guilty of this very thing just moments before. And now the three of you look to Taeil, and his eyes are glancing at all of you before he shrugs and takes a drink.

“Who?” Doyoung asks, with his newfound persona of not being a stiff stick in the mud. 

            Taeil goes a little red in the cheeks, glancing at you without really realizing it before trying to stutter out an answer. 

“Oh—” Taeyong interrupts him. “I see what’s happening here.” He points between the two of you. 

“It’s not like that!” Taeil panics, throwing his hands up and avoiding eye contact with you.

“You’re blushing though.” Haechan pries, smiling over at his boss. 

“Only because it’s an intimate question!” Taeil defends again, finally glancing over to you.

“Well, I’ve fantasized about y/n. I don’t see the big deal.” Haechan continues. “She rejected me though and now look at us, two peas in a pod.” He throws himself towards you, trying to grasp you into a hug, and Taeil watches as you fight him off with a laugh. 

            You kind of go warm at the reminder though, remembering the time Haechan told you about the dream he had, asking if you’d be down for a casual hook-up. You considered it, you really did. Unfortunately, you were kind of in the middle of training and focusing on other things, so the answer was a no and it never really came up again, nor did it cause any awkwardness. 

“Wait—” Taeil looks at Haechan, and then over to you. 

“I told him no, don’t worry.” You say as a joke, realizing very quickly that it seemed to genuinely calm him down, despite already being told by Haechan that you rejected him.

“So, who is it then?” You continue, looking at him. 

“Maybe ask again after a couple more drinks.” He quickly responds, as if to brush it all off.

            Part of you wonders if it’s one of the girls on your team. The one who always watches when Taeil is at your cubicle, the one who is always bringing him coffee. 

“Alright, jot that down,” Taeyong says, moving forward. “Never have I ever listened in on sex with my parents.”

            Taeyong doesn’t drink, but Haechan sure as fuck does, and so does Doyoung.

            You and Taeil are safe from that question though, finding the very idea of listening to that—um—gross.

“Easy enough. Taeil, go.” Taeyong urges as all eyes fall to Teail.

“Ah—well.” Taeil stretches out his arms and shakes his bottle, here goes nothing he guesses. The alcohol is making this far easier than he’s comfortable with, kind of wishing he had just told you about his deep thoughts involving you from the question few moments before. He played it off as if he wasn’t drunk enough, but he definitely is. It was too intimate though, it was for you to know, not for the rest of the guys playing this game. The word ‘fantasize’ obviously points to a sexual situation, and that’s not something he really wants to just admit like that in front of your friends if it involves you. 

            He takes a deep breath, opting to be a little bit scandalous, but more so that he can try and admit his feelings in some way, shape, or form while he’s got the confidence to do it. “Never have I ever considered cutting myself off from drinking in the middle of a game so that I can be sober when I try to kiss a woman in her own house.” 

            The room is silent for a short moment as everyone tries to process his words. Taeil slowly lifts the bottle to his lips and takes a small sip.

“Oh.” Doyoung breathes, looking between the two of you. 

            You’re just staring at Taeil, watching him take the smallest of sips before setting his bottle down and looking at you. “Your turn.”

“Never have I ever wanted someone to be sober during a drinking game.” You say, and surprisingly, everyone drinks. 

  ~

            You’re still tipsy, opting to take drinks of water rather than alcohol during these games that become more and more boring by the second. Taeil seems to have been quick to sober up, checking in on you every few minutes to see if you need a snack, more water, more—something.

            The only thing you want right now is to see what the hell he meant by that, and where the hell he got the confidence to announce it so suddenly in front of everyone. 

            Thankfully, the guys seemed to have forgotten as they continued their drinking. Taeyong is plastered, refusing to speak in anything but a British accent as he asks his questions, Doyoung is equally as wasted as he gets more and more lively with each sip that is over his usual limit. Haechan is still controlling the music, having gone from r&b to some loud-ass techno-pop song that he keeps restarting. 

            Though you’re tipsy, you can tell you’ve come down a lot. Enough, rather. You could definitely do whatever you’d need to do right now in this state.

“Taeil.” You whisper out to him, too quiet for the other goons to hear you. “I’m sober enough.”

            He looks at you and smiles softly with a shake of his head. “Drink more water.” He urges, handing you the glass.

“Come get some more with me then.” You retort, standing to your feet without stumbling once. You could definitely pass a sobriety test right now. 

            Taeyong looks at you and watches the way Taeil stands to his feet and follows after you into the kitchen. He nudges Haechan, who then nudges Doyoung, and the three of them watch you two walk off to be alone.

“Did you really mean that?” You ask as soon as you’re out of earshot. “Or was it the alcohol talking?” 

            Taeil gets a bit shy now, scratching at his hair and going for your fridge to fill your cup with more water. He feels kind of dumb for being that bold during a drinking game, worrying now that he’s hit a point of no return and things will be awkward. He just makes it worse though, because you’re looking up at him like you…want him to admit to meaning every word that he said. 

“I’ve been thinking about it since the last time I was here.” He admits, grabbing the water container and setting it on the counter. “But I’ve only been invited when you’re drinking—”

“You can kiss me if I’m drunk. I consent.” You say frantically, looking at him. 

            He’s shocked by that. The ease of your voice in how to admit that you would have accepted a kiss from him. Even with the rocky start, he thinks he may have grown on you much like how you’ve grown on him. It was quick, but he knows not to ignore a pull in his heart when he feels a connection with someone, especially if it’s romantic. You didn’t even think twice when you said that to him, and he’s in awe at the confidence you must have inside of you to be so blatantly interested like this when he struggles himself to flirt without stuttering. 

“I mean, I could, but I’d like it a lot if you were able to tell me that while you’re actually sober.” He laughs, trying to calm the nerves from the presumed admittance to being just as interested in him as he is with you. 

“I’m sober.” You say back, motioning towards yourself.

“Yeah?” He asks, finally taking a step closer. 

            It feels intimate at this moment, watching the way he studies your face to see if you’re lying. “So, I can kiss you then? Right now?”

            You forget to nod, still looking up at him. 

“Even if I’m your boss? Even though they gave me the position you worked so hard for?” He asks again, and this time you do nod. All hateful or frustrated emotions towards him drain at the way his eyes glisten in your shitty kitchen lighting, and the way he’s still softly smiling as he looks at you through what you can only assume is nervousness. 

“Well?” You question, standing in front of him with still a bit too much space to close if he were to kiss you. “How many times are you going to have me confirm it for you?” 

“Until I feel like I can.” He sighs out, having choked himself up in this moment and unable to take another step forward. “Because I do want to, i’m just–”

“Nervous?” You laugh, looking around your kitchen. 

“Yeah–” He pauses, backing himself up in order to lean against the counter, in the same spot he had done the previous night he had drinks here. “I must look stupid right now, trying to sober you up to do something I probably can’t even bring myself to do.”

            You stay silent, realizing that you’ve definitely sobered up and you’re a little sad that he hasn’t stepped up and just done it already, but you have permission right? You could easily close the distance for him and initiate and kiss, right? Would he kiss back? You find yourself wondering how it would feel to kiss him. Likewise, you find yourself laughing internally a bit at the fact that your own boss cannot make a decision without your approval. 

            Hyping yourself up a bit, your eyes land on him. You take him in for a moment and try to memorize what Taeil looks like the moment before you take the leap. To memorize him because you want to see how he will change after. Not that you’re expecting some life-altering kiss or anything, you just want to see if he becomes relaxed, comfortable, maybe even clingy? 

            You close the distance for him, and he looks as if he’s still in thought like he may still want to say something but can’t bring himself to say it. He attempts to back himself up a bit more against the counter but there was nowhere else for him to go. Instead, he leans his upper body back, watching as you lean more and more towards him. It’s like he’s forcing you to chase without realizing it, and it takes him a few moments. You can tell. You can see him wet his lips with his tongue, and you watch as his eyes go from wide open to lazily hooded. 

“Still nervous?” You ask as a joke, but he takes it far too seriously with the nod he throws back at you. 

            He grips the edge of the counter in preparation, feeling the sweet, soft, feeling of your alcoholic breath hit him against his chin. His eyes close and he just waits for it, still incredibly nervous but so entirely on fire for such a small intimate moment with you.

            You close the distance, plush lips sitting against his only for a moment as if to test the waters. You ignore the sound of the water in the cup being knocked over as one of his hands immediately shoots to your cheek. He notices though and pulls back with a very fast ‘im sorry- i’m so sor–’, but you lean forward again, chasing wherever his lips had gone to say those words to you. 

            Cleaning up the water was the last thing on your mind, Taeil was the first. His nervousness didn’t stifle nearly as much as you’d like for it to during this small act, and he still hasn’t even tried to lift his hand back up to your face. So you decide that you’re just going to have to guide him, show him that it’s okay to kiss you in whatever way he pleases, because you’re definitely going to do the same.

            He’s gripping the counter again, focusing on where his lips meet yours, and then he feels the wetness of your tongue attempting to deepen the kiss. That, for some reason, floored him. He’s kissed before, he’s made out, he’s done countless things with women, but never have they been the one pinning him against a counter to do it. Your softness matched his own, but your willingness to take the control had him feeling as though he could melt into a puddle, much like the water still dripping onto your floor. 

            He finally accepts it. Accepts that this is what you both want, and he parts his lips. Only now does he have the confidence to take control from you, like he is giving you a chance to enjoy it. As if showing you that he isn’t so bad at kissing after all, at least when he isn’t being a nervous wreck about it. 

            Taeil puts a bit of force behind his kiss, leaning into you more than the counter now. His lips are chasing, pulling you back in with ease during this silent moment. His hands now unlocked from the counter-tops and reaching back to your cheeks, tilting your head so that he can angle his lips and dart his tongue across yours in a moment that slightly heats up his gut. He’s feeling a little bubbly on the inside, in the way you slip your fingers through his hair and kiss him back eagerly, and he wants nothing more than what you’re doing in this moment. 

            He doesn’t need more of you, he doesn’t need your clothes to be off or for your legs to be around him. Feeling you at all, your lips against his as you scratch against his hair, tilting your head just to slot your lips in different ways–that’s enough for him.

            And then it’s over, and maybe he does actually want a little more. The cool air hitting the wetness against his lips from the way you pull back to look at him makes him shiver a bit despite the warmth he has all over his body. 

            You look different to him right now. You don’t look as if you ever disliked him, and you’re studying his face in a way that he can tell you’re looking for his approval. You’re silently urging him for a green light and hoping that this was really okay to do. Despite the policies and the red flags of having feelings for your own boss, he images you have a lot of thoughts in your head now when he wishes the only thought was of kissing him again.

            He leans forward, trying to re-capture your lips against his own but fails when you pull back. 

“Taeil, the guys are going to start wondering why it’s taking so long–” You go to say, wanting nothing more than to kiss him again and damn the men in your living room to a closet for the night to sleep. 

“I think they’re aware.” He laughs, leaning back and trying not to calculate the distance between your bodies now. “I think they’re more aware than we were.” He sighs this time, comfortable in this space and shifting his feet.

            The water from the spill seeping into his socks was a crawling feeling, and he tries not to make a face, he really does. He pulls his foot back and pretends it’s not soaking wet, still looking at you as if there were more to say in this conversation. 

“I think–” You go to say, fully aware that he just put his foot directly into the puddle of water. “I think I should clean this up.”

            For some reason, the way he kissed you has you feeling nervous now. The switch in mood hits you in a way that scares you. Do you want him to have bad thoughts about you? Of course, but only specific bad thoughts. You don’t want him to think you’re easy. Or someone who would hit it and quit it. You hang out with a group of men for Christ's sake, is he going to assume you’ve done this with others in the office outside of him? What if he thinks you’re attempting to fuck your way to the top?

            All of these thoughts swirl in your head when you turn to grab a hand towel, and they swirl a little slower when you squat down beside him and begin to wipe up the mess. For a moment you glance at his body, noticing the bulge in his lounge pants that he probably hadn’t even noticed himself yet.

            You take a deep breath, prying your eyes from his middle and forcing them back down to the puddle you’d somehow missed completely. You were wiping up a dry floor while staring at his. . . 

            Anyway, you finally get the water seeped into the towel and almost can’t bare to look up at him, but you do anyway, feeling a little shameful of what’s going through your brain right now.

            He’s already looking down at you, forgetting himself that he probably should have helped you wipe that up, but he was kind of watching the way your eyes literally devoured him for a solid three seconds and it drove him into a mind state of staying absolutely frozen as he tries to either further the situation or run for the hills. 

“Do you, um–” He tries to say, but his voice cracks in an embarrassing way that has him shifting legs and leaning a little more stiffly. “want to maybe…keep going?” 

            You’re still at hip level to him, squatted in the floor when he asks you and you wonder if maybe, his initiation of this could clear you of any bad thoughts. You hadn’t initiated the kiss until he expressed to wanting it. The only thing you’ve done was invite him to a night out to unwind. If he asks to keep going, it would mean you weren’t trying to use him for promotions or like you’re the type to throw yourself at any cock that comes through the door, right?

            You stand to your feet, looking at him.

“Do you want to?” You ask, looking at him and trying to ignore the fact that his bulge is still there, very much visible in those pants. 

            He nods and looks around the room. “But the guys–”

“Don’t worry about them.” You assure him, stepping towards him. “I do want to keep going, I just–” You look down at his obviously wet sock, but you don’t laugh. “I don’t want you to think this kind of thing is normal for me.”

            He nods again, like anything you say to him would be agreeable regardless. Then it dawns on him. “Oh-” His realization shows plainly on his face. “God no. I didn’t think that for even a second.”

            You smile at him and honestly, it’s like his heart is beaming at that. He can see the relief on your face, and he hopes it never goes away.

“That never even crossed my mind–” He continues, droning on and spilling his thoughts as they come to him. “I just haven’t really had a crush like this in a long time and it’s really hard to act like I’m not interested.”

            You smile wider, poking your own foot into his, feeling how uncomfortable he must be standing here like this. 

“I haven’t had much time for crushes either if I’m being straight with you.” You admit. “I do really want to keep going though…” You trail off this time, the room going silent and your lips start tingling with the urge to jump him right then and there. 

            You do lean in, but you can tell he has something else to say.

“Right here?” He laughs, unsure if he’s admitting to just how far he’s wanting to go, but he does think you are meeting him in the middle when it comes to this situation.

 You both are adults after all, ‘keep going’ for two adults with interest usually means a lot more compared to high schoolers who have only held hands. There isn’t a clear indication of a stopping point, and you don’t know if there will be one. Because if the two of you are truly on the same page, you think the same idea is crossing your minds. 

“Oh, right.” You finally say, pulling yourself back and looking at his feet one last time. “You should probably change your socks, by the way.” You laugh out as you turn to walk out of the room to deal with the heavily drunk businessmen in your living room.

  ~

              The three men in the living room were heavily invested when you told them that you were going to bed. Not because you were going to sleep or anything, mostly because they watched Taeil follow after you and close the door.

            They looked at each other, looked at the door, and decided that this situation was much better than it would have been if you were to continue disliking Taeil. Whatever you did in your own home was your business, and whatever you did in your own room with their boss was definitely not their business. 

            Knowing they’d still pry it out of one of you, Doyoung passed out shortly after that door was closed, clutching a couch pillow in his hands and doing his best to ride the roller coaster that went on behind his eyes. Taeyong and Haechan stayed up a bit longer, sipping water and gossiping about what you guys must have done in that kitchen while getting water. Thoughts of the questions from the game, the way Taeil pulled up quickly without warning, and the way you sobered yourself up just to see if he keeps that energy. They enjoyed the gossip because it wasn’t exactly drama, and if it stayed between the people in this house, everything should go by smoothly.

            You, however, you’re absolutely fucking floored by Taeil. The very idea of him being sexual in any way kind of has your brain twisting and turning with all sorts of images that you want to grasp as if it were a core memory. 

            When he had followed you through the door, closing it gently and standing there as if he had no idea what to do, you were also at a loss. So, now here you are, giving him a tour of the small bedroom so that he doesn’t somehow get lost in it.

“Here’s my closet, the tv, my bed…” You drone on, walking around the room and presenting each section as if he should be taking notes. 

            Taeil looks around, endeared by how lived in the room looks. He felt comfortable behind this closed door with you, looking to your tv for just an extra bit of comfort considering on the other side of that door are three other men who you have to see every single weekday. He isn’t so sure if he could survive the embarrassment of them hearing whatever ends up happening in this room.

“Can we turn on the tv?” Taeil asks, slowly stepping further into the room and heading towards your bed.

“You…want to watch tv?” 

            There’s a split moment where you realize that you are not picking up a single hint of what he’s putting down for you. Of course he doesn’t want to watch tv. “Oh–” You immediately sigh out, grabbing the remote and putting on something completely at random. You can see him smile at it, placing himself on your bed.

“Is it okay if I sit?” He asks, like he’s not in this room to do god knows what with you.

“You can lay down if you want.” It comes out like a mutter, wanting the awkward transition from talking to kissing to be over with. “Why don’t we just pick up where we left off?” 

            Taeil rubs his hands against his lounge pants, sitting stiffly in place on the edge of the bed, but he nods his head as if he’s waiting for you to repeat what you had done in the kitchen. He can’t help it, being surrounded by everything that is you on a night where he never would have expected this to happen is creating a fog wall that feels near impenetrable. 

            To his relief, you do exactly what he needs in this moment. Crawling onto the bed behind him and pulling his shirt so that he falls back onto his back. He hits the mattress with a huff, but he smiles nonetheless and stares up at you. “Yeah?” You whisper out, wanting to get on with it still so that he can realize that he’s making this far too awkward for himself.

“Yeah—” He confirms with a small chuckle, still staring up at you as if you were the only woman he had ever found interest in.

            It’s slow when you lean down to press a quick kiss to his lips, knowing full well that the small action would relax him enough to move on his own. It’s a little faster when you lay yourself down as if you’re going to sleep now, head against the pillows and eyes drooped a bit. “C’mere.” You say sweetly, beckoning him with a finger when he skews his to watch you.

            He does as you ask, languidly sitting upright and scooting to your side. Taeil looks down at you, and the way your eyes meet his own in a way that shows him you want him to kiss you this time. So he does, forcing himself to just stop thinking so damn hard and give you what you seem to want.

            Leaning down, Taeil is careful not to place his elbow against your hair as to pull it, and he gently sets his lips against yours as he adjusts his body to lay next to you. He turns your face along with his movements, keeping his lips connected until he’s comfortable enough to hold your jaw in place.

            He deepens the kiss this time, his mind overflowing with the idea of how pretty you looked the day he introduced himself, and how sweet you had become towards him. He’s in your home, kissing you and feeling as if he could do it forever. 

            Slipping his tongue against yours felt even better than it did in your kitchen, nothing holding him back but his own fondness of not wanting this moment to end. You’d kissed him back just as gently, but it wasn’t long before he could feel your eagerness spilling through by your breathing alone.

            You were kissing him as deeply as you could in the position you were, neck-straining just to press your lips harder against him, in a bruising way almost. Taeil smiled at that, his lips upturned as he pulled himself back for a breath and for a moment to look at you.

            He could tell by the look in your eye that this was going to be more than just kissing each other and testing the water, but he was enjoying this languid way of showing his own need. He dips back down to kiss you again, just as deep before and becomes a little shocked at the way you immediately tug against his shirt. 

            You’re pulling, trying to get him on top of you. Even if it goes no further than this, you want his weight on top of you, holding onto you, weighing you down against this mattress so you don’t have to think of why it’s wrong to be doing this. 

            Taeil listens after a few more tugs, allowing your hands to guide him by the collar of his shirt. You knew full well that forcing him to hover half of his body over you would become uncomfortable at some point, and he would slot himself between your legs. He did that almost immediately though, already pressing his palm hard against the pillow you’re lying against for balance and pulling away from the kiss so that he can slot his knee between your thighs. 

            He lets out a small breath when he does it, looking at you in a way you’d never seen before. His pupils look bigger, hair a fluffy mess on top of his head. He looks more than a friend, more than a boss, he looks like someone you’d prefer to have on top of you several more times if he would allow it.

            The soft features on his face are standing out more when you see him from this angle, and you don’t hesitate for a moment to reach up and guide his lips right back to yours. You’re thinking about how his body will start to react, how his lips may begin to move faster until he’s out of breath.

            You don’t mind becoming needy, you really don’t. He doesn’t seem to mind so much either when you pull one of his hands from your waist and guide it beneath your shirt. It almost surprises you at how experienced he must be at this, expertly kneading and pinching as he kisses you without a single stutter of his tongue. It was insanely hot to you now, to see him like this after only knowing of his nervous professional self. 

That nervous man who kept bringing you snacks, the one who stepped in a puddle of water from a cup he spilled. He’s the one using his fingers to do so little, but make it feel so good. He’s the one who appears to makeout with such experience that you believe it should be the first mention on his resume under the skills section. And he only gets better at it. The kissing becomes mindless as the mere squeezes against your nipple have you nearly coming undone beneath him. 

            You urge for more, grabbing the hand that’s still expertly rubbing your flesh and pushing it down. Once again guiding him. Taeil is fully aware of what you’re wanting, and is relishing in the idea of how you’re putting him in the exact situation he wants to be in. 

            You’re not exactly afraid to show him what you want, and you can tell he knows what he’s doing when he stays in one spot for too long. However, he nearly knocks the breath out of you, to the point to where you miss his little sighed out laugh when he slides that same hand beneath your lounge pants far quicker than your hand was guiding him.

            Taeil was thinking a little too hard at this point, pulling back from your lips even more just so he could see the lump of his hand beneath your pants making it’s way. The warmth of your thighs against his palm and the way you attempt to squeeze his hand despite his knee preventing you from doing it? Perfect. His eyes slowly trail back up to yours, your stomach slightly exposed from what his hand had been doing previous. 

            Looking at you, he settles himself back to your side and keeps his arm outstretched so that he can continue to feel beneath your pants. Be begins to examine the way your chest rises and falls when he drags his hands closer and closer to the puddle against your panties. When he does finally get to that spot, you watch as his eyes shoot straight to your face and it’s almost as if he couldn’t contain himself any longer.

            He doesn’t take his time to take your pants or panties off, and instead opts to rub that wet spot harshly, thumb finding it’s way to your clit as he dips right back into your lips to kiss you. If he’s being completely honest here, you looked so pretty already, but feeling that warmth, and the wetness he had caused you paired with your eyes looking back at him, almost as if you were patiently waiting for him to do more? It kind of threw him off of his game.

            He felt starved, despite having only met you two weeks ago. His harsh rubs against your core is causing you to gasp only slightly into his mouth, bucking your own hips up in order to somehow feel more and more of it. Taeil isn’t trying at all to take his time now, he, more easily than he thought he could, hooks your panties in his fingers and pulls them to the side, kissing you harder now that he realizes he’s literally about to finger fuck you in a way you’d never think he could.

            He positions himself yet again, unable to find a position that most satisfies him. He looks down at you when he sits up and finally, and fully positions himself in a way that allows him to take off your pants. He’s fluid when he does it, slipping his hand out of your pants only to pull them down along with your panties in one switch motion. You shiver at the air hitting you, but soon he was spreading your legs further apart as he kicked his own pants off of him. Before you even let him look at you, you’re tugging his shirt, urging him to just go ahead and get the rest taken care of.

            He follows suit, throwing his shirt off of him so quickly that by the time you’d pulled yours off, he was already staring down between your legs in a way that made you feel like he really wanted this. When he suggested doing more earlier, he really meant more. 

            You can see his chest heaving, and though his underwear is still on, to your dismay, you don’t argue it. Preparing your body instead for what’s to come, you watch him do what he’s apparently best at. His hand works itself in the same way it did when your pants were on. He rubs against your folds, staring at it all the while, and then he tests the waters, slipping in the tip of his finger and finally meeting your face again.

            Your pupils are blown now too, as if they weren’t already and when he sinks that same finger further in, you can see his cock move beneath his boxers. It’s hitting you now, your gut dropping at the feeling of any part of Taeil working you open. 

            As much as you want to kiss him while he does this, all you can do is watch the way his other hand works it’s way right back up to your chest, twisting and pulling the long forgotten nub and sending electric shocks straight down to where his finger slowly begins to fuck into you.

            He keeps glancing from his finger disappearing inside of you to your face, searching for a reaction, searching for the need or lust or whatever it is you may want from him. It comes far too soon when you buck your hips up against his finger, murmuring out a small ‘another’. 

            Taeil complies, slipping in another finger and settling himself in a way to where he can lean back over you to kiss you. His lips moved much faster this time, and you can feel him slightly grind his cock against his own wrist while he plunges his fingers into you. It’s a different kind of want, you think. He wants to please you above all, and it appears it’s always been that way from the start.

“Feel good?” Taeil asks for confirmation when he pulls back from the messy kiss, grinding himself a bit harder against his wrist, you can feel his fingers sink deeper into you from it. 

            You gasp out at him, not answering but instead lunging forward and wrapping your arms around his neck so tightly, that you don’t think he could move if he wanted to. You kiss him, and you kiss and kiss and kiss until his fingers are utterly soaked as they work you open.

            Forgetting where you were for a moment there, you finally loosen your grip on him, dropping your arms to cover your face as you allow yourself to just feel it. He takes that opportunity to pull back again, watching how you glisten around his fingers. It feels almost unbearable to him, his cock practically begging to be put to use at this point. He doesn’t need anything more than you being wrapped around it. 

            Blow jobs and hand jobs are great and all, but you look so. . . ready. 

“Can I?” He suddenly asks, pulling you from the sparking thoughts of how his fingers were working magic inside of you, and it kind of shocks you a bit at the sudden words in the room. When you open your eyes to look at him, you can see his arm flexing as his fingers begin to slow their pace, his other hand pressed firmly around his cock that he had presumably pulled out as you were too busy feeling. 

            You just stare at it, realizing that you are seeing him in the most intimate way you could possibly see a person and you couldn’t even consider asking for more. His heavy cock long neglected since that first moment you’d noticed the slight bulge in the kitchen. Taeil can have whatever he wants. He can do whatever he wants. 

            You swallow thickly at him, spreading your legs just a bit more to give him the okay, and he doesn’t even question it. 

            Taeil pulls his fingers out of you but keeps one pressed firmly against your clit. He isn’t rubbing, nor is he drawing shapes against it in order to get you to finally moan or anything. He’s just resting it there, like a thumb tack in a to-do list to remind him that he’s going to make you cum around him. 

            You’re anticipating it at this point. Watching his hand disappear between your bodies as you can feel the tip rest against your folds at his positioning of it, and then his hand is up and in your hair. You can barely register what he’s doing when you feel it. One long, fluid thrust into you so that he bottoms out in one go. He was holding his breath when he did it, releasing it only after he had rested his abdomen against your belly and looked at you.

            It was a shaky breath, and his right hand continued to tangle itself in your hair. He watched your eyes roll back, and he loved it. Loved the way your mouth fell open and loved, even more, the way you still tilted your head into the touch of his fingers brushing through the strands. 

            He allows himself to sit there for a moment, feeling the way you clenched around him, adjusting to the pleasure of having someone inside of you. He can barely hold himself together though, doing his best not to pull out and thrust himself back in with all of his force. You looked so desirable under him, legs resting around him, and taking him as if you were built to do it.

            You looked even prettier when you opened your eyes, staring at him with a blown-out look that told him right then and there that he was making you feel good. Only now did he start to move his thumb against your clit, you’d almost forgotten it was there to be honest. Only now do you understand that this man knows exactly how to fuck a woman. His thumb is gentle against your sensitive bud, but his hips tell a different story when he stutters a half thrust into you. Pulling back only partly before pushing back in. 

            Tight, short thrusts pulse through your body and it feels amazing because at no point are you not filled up. All you can feel is sensational pressure against your walls, around your clit, and your legs begin to shake to your own surprise. You look up at him, noticing how in the moment he is when you realize his eyes are closed and he’s got his head thrown back, exposing the expanse of his neck to you.

            You could probably cry over how much you’d love to lean up and lick a stripe across that skin, but in the position you’re in, you can’t bring yourself to move. 

            His thrusts become a bit lazier after a few moments, you could tell when his fingers fall from your hair and find themselves pressed against your thigh in order to hold your leg further open for him. You can feel him pull almost all the way out this time before pushing back in, and it grants him the moan he had been waiting for.

            Both of you had been holding your breath as much as you could, and when you finally allowed yourself to breathe, so did he. He urged himself to keep doing that, hitting you with long and deep thrusts in order to pull more of those sounds from your throat. His groans coming along side your own, because the way your body reacts makes him feel good. When your legs shake, when you try to grasp him, pulling and pushing against his back with your hands as if to make him sinking deeper and deeper with each thrust–the way it sounds. Wet, slapping of skin in a room where he’d forgotten the tv was even on. 

            His moans went straight through you, the deep and breathy sounds of him each time he presses into you. It’s driving you insane. 

“You sound so, so pretty right now–” He manages to mutter out, almost sending you over the edge by hearing his out-of-breath voice alone, but it’s the fact that he’s now focusing more on your clit than the pace of his cock driving into you. 

            He’s tracing hearts, squares, fucking pentagrams for all you care. All you know is that no man has ever hit your clit so right. You can feel your skin crawl with the prickling feeling of an orgasm each time his thrusts hit you deep, paired with his own deep and guttural moans, and you don’t even care at this point. 

            Taeil can see it. He can see your orgasm coming the moment he looks at you. You’re very quietly muttering to yourself rather than him. Small yesses, and even smaller pleases. He wishes you were saying it to him, but for reason, he thinks it's prettier than you’re singing little mantras to yourself because of what he’s doing. He uses those small, hushed cries to get you through it. Still circling your clit, he finally pulls his other hand from your thigh and tucks it beneath your ass, changing the angle just enough to where the tip of his cock is repeatedly hitting a soft spot inside of you.

            Your eyes shoot open, and your grip on him becomes that much stronger. You pull him down, forcing him back into his quick, tight thrusts as he struggles to keep that same pressure against your clit. He’s almost worried now, wondering why he’s suddenly face to face with you until he feels you clench so tightly around him.

            The wave of tension on your muscles almost too much to bare paired with his fingers against you, all you can do is hold him in place. You feel so entirely sensitive in this moment that all you can do is hold him there. Begging for him not to move, to keep still as your pussy practically milks him dry all on its own.

            His mouth goes slack at the very image of you orgasming around him. The feeling is enough to put a smile on his face for weeks to come, but the image and the suffocating grip you have on him is insanely hot, and he can’t do it. The one thing he can’t do for you is to stay still. You let out a whimper when his hips and moans overpower your own, thrusting at a pace quicker than he had reached before.

            Taeil can still feel you clench around him, small beads of your heat dribbling out with each powerful thrust into you.

“Just a little longer–” He manages to mutter out to you, shushing you as he pulls both of his hands to your face and holds you there, staring straight into your eyes when he does it. “A little more,” He pants out, resting his lips against your own as he frantically works himself up. His hips are losing any sort of rhythm, and the sensitivity is almost unbearable before, suddenly, his weight is gone and he’s leaned back, pulling himself out of you.

            “Where?” He asks, fisting his cock at an aggressive pace, out of breathe and looking at you.

            You are equally out of breath and wincing a bit from the sudden emptiness, but you still smile at the responsible man before you. Not only had you not used a condom, but he doesn’t even know if you’re on the pill or not. A gold star for Mr.Moon. As he waits for your answer, you just stare at the way he works his hand against his length. You can see his abdomen tense as you finally, innocently, look up at him. 

            You throw yourself forward and nearly knock him back, but he keeps his balance as he watches you. He’s completely thrown off guard for only a moment before he feels his cock enveloped with warmth again. Unable to contain it, he does his best not to treat your mouth the way he does his hand, only slowly pressing himself further and further to the back of your throat until you choke just a tiny bit around him. He didn’t intend for that to happen, he really really didn’t, but when he tries to pull back, you hold him there. 

            He can’t even look down at you to see how you’re taking it before he’s, quite literally, grasping your hair with shaking hands and cumming with a very deep, drawn out moan.

  ~

  “No woman has ever let me finish in their mouth before.” Taeil says nonchalantly, lying next to you and lazily watching the random show you had thrown onto the tv before. “No woman has ever acted like that with me, actually.”

            You look over at him in disbelief. 

“You’ve got to be joking?” You laugh a little because, really? No one but you? The man is not only handsome as all hell, but he knew how to work his body inside of someone and for some reason, you think he’s fucking lying.  

            He looks comfortable, he looks spent, and it’s far too late into the night to defend this conversation, but you don’t really care about that much. 

“I’m being serious–” Taeil admits, looking over at you with a face that seems to be trying to convince you. He really is being serious, no one has ever seemed to have wanted him that much. Maybe it’s just his non-existant ego getting a boost, he’s not sure. 

            And if you still don’t believe him tomorrow, or the next day, or the next week. He doesn’t mind. The reality is that regardless of if any other woman has acted that way towards him, he’s really just trying to tell you that he liked the way you seemed to want him. 

  ~

  note: i was gonna do a little more for the ending, one where the guys are prying and it’s a normal day at work, except now you’ve felt ur boss’s cock in u. But nah, this is supposed to be a damn blurb u guys, i got carried the fuck away. 

[spevvy]

Although the fact I finally leapt on the CNCO train almost four weeks to the day after they officially split up is 100% on brand for my rotten luck, I'm very fortunate to have ADHD and so I have spent the last four weeks trying to cram 8 years' worth of fandom into my brain, with a level of success that has impressed even myself.

Things that especially give me extra dopamine about these doofuses:

. We don't have time for all the things I love about that idiot Vélez but I'll come back to him in a moment. In any case, let me tell you, he's such an amazing human being that I'm not 100% sure he's even real.

Stop it this instant please (don't you dare)

. Watching the official videos and still being constantly astounded at Rich's wardrobe. This is split into two levels of incredulity—a) "What the bleedin ell has he got on this time?!", and b) "There wasn't enough budget for a shirt for the poor sod again, eh?" (NB: There is rarely any budget for a shirt for Rich in any video, the poor love. Let Rich Be Warm™, FFS!) Both a) and b) are particularly evident in the Miami video, where the Rich's Shirt budget appeared to have been spent on a granny scarf. For his hair. Obvs. Because of course.

Legit son, what the fuck, did you lose a bet or something, lad?? 👀 It's like when Stewart Granger was in films in the 40s and 50s and he'd wear increasingly bonkers outfits scene after scene but he had absolutely zero confidence issues so he just owned everything like of COURSE he was gonna rock the hell out of it. Oh to have a thimbleful of Richard Camacho's self-confidence!!!!

. Every. Single. Time. I. See. Joel. Pimentel. De. León. The. Only. Thing. I. Can. Think. Is. "CABELLITO AZÚUUUUUULLLLL!!!!😭😭😭"

Never has the loss of a toy blue horse (is he just trying to not say My Little Pony, or???) ever been so heartbreaking to me 💔💔💔 Bless that small sweet boy, I just want to protect him, he takes up that one hidden sliver of maternal instinct I have lurking somewhere!! 🥹🥹🥹😭😭

. Chris' hair during the CNCO album era totally gives trans butch lesbian vibes. No I will not take questions on this. Yes I'm way more into it than I can possibly explain in polite company. Stop it, Christopher, I'm already bi. Totally here for my inadvertently genderfluid monarch.

I just want her to slam me into a wall and call me a good girl I don't know what to tell you.

. Erick Brian Colón is the visual representation of iron fist in velvet glove. He may have the face of a little angel and the biggest greenest most beautiful eyes since the invention of green - but that kid is brutal, folks!!! BRUTAL!!!!!!!!!!!

"Guess who just got MUUURRRDEEERRRRREEEDDD!"

. Two words. Lengua kiss.

Zab, sweetheart, you said it perfectly. You couldn't have improved upon it, thank you for blessing us with your lengua kisses, we are grateful.

. The amount of clever camera trickery and stage choreography involved in showing Chris actually dancing as little as possible. Before any of you come at me over this—I'm not saying Chris can't dance, I'm saying they cut around him and they do it consistently enough that it's hilariously obvious they're doing it. One of my favourite examples is in the Vevo Lite performance of Reggaetón Lento, where they just show his left elbow. Oh honey. (I marked it with a pointy finger to help you out)

I have a few theories about this but it's probably because his hips are so wiggly that if they showed them doing their thing on screen they couldn't have marketed the band to kids and that's a giant drop in revenue before they've even started. Not that I've made a study of his wiggly hips. Honestly.

. I have, however, made a very careful study of that lip-lick-into-lip-bite thing he does, and have come to the conclusion that HE is nsfw. Him. Himself. Alone. With no help. He just oozes it. Holy fudgeballs (probably). He's 100% that one guy who would openly flirt with an empty bag of crisps. "Hola, paquetito vacío de papas fritas, seguro que parece que ha pasado un tiempo desde que tuviste papas fritas dentro de ti..... te apetecería??!?!?" Seriously son, give it a rest, we're all pregnant now.

I swear to god you wouldn't be able to sit down for a fortnight. Fucking bloody hellfire. Is probably how it would be. OOOOFFFFFFFFF......

. I have literally lost count of how many times I've seen 4Ever in the last four weeks. I mean genuinely I cannot remember. I stopped counting at 12. There is no particular reason for this. I can't imagine anything that keeps my attention so solidly.

It's beautiful. I've been looking at this for five hours, now.

. "Que quiénes somos? YOU ALREADY KNOW!" My guys this has been my very problem with artists announcing themselves on their songs for at least the last decade, thank you for addressing the pointlessness of this activity but doing it anyway, I love you for it.

(Can he not? Does he ever take a day off??)

. Bringing back 90s boy band dancing with a level of aplomb I haven't witnessed since approximately 1998. And yes, I do remember. I was 15 in 1998, I was very much the target audience. Anyway, watch Mis Ojos Lloran Por Ti, it's the most authentically 90s thing I've seen since actual 90s boy band music videos.

White shirts AND white vests with black trousers in an abandoned building? ALL THEY NEED IS RAIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Also the rap section of Mis Ojos Lloran Por Ti sounds EXACTLY like the rap section of Mysterious Girl by Peter Andre. It does. Go on, check for yourselves, I'm right about this.

. Tóxica. Just. Omg. Tóxica. It's beautiful. I dunno whose idea it was to do an acapella arrangement, but I hope they always hit the green light in traffic, because wow. What a song. (here it is if you're unfamiliar with CNCO, you've read this far, and you've never heard the song before. Even if you have, it's always worth another listen!)

Honestly it gives me proper goosebumps every single time, it's THE dopamine song for me, it just does all the things to my brain all at once. I was listening to all their songs on shuffle and all of a sudden I heard this one and I just stopped dead in my tracks like "holy SHIT what the hell....this is... this is stunning!" Like THAT was the moment I was like yep that's it folks this is MY band now, these are MY boys, they've got me for life whether they like it or not, I'm theirs, they're mine, that's how fangirls and musicians go, my guys (gender neutral).

. I am obviously not a native Spanish speaker nor am I 100% fluent in speaking, but after 4 weeks I've managed to learn a significant portion of their back catalogue and I am so goshdarned proud of myself. By comparison it's taken me about 5 years to learn most of Morat's back catalogue and I've been in the fandom since just before Balas Perdidas dropped.

Okay fine I have a whole different set of distractions with Morat (goddammit Monchi!!!!), we can't compare them, and it's not a "which band is better" thing at all cos I refuse to choose between any of my boys because they're MY BOYS. It's just nice from a personal viewpoint to feel like my Spanish level is now at a stage where I can pick up new lyrics to songs quite quickly!!! I feel like my Spanish has really improved in the last month and these doofuses are 100% to blame and I adore them for it and so many other things.

Suffice to say, I may be way too late to the party, but I think I get to be at least an honorary CNCOwner at this point. Without the smallest shred of doubt I know that I am retroactively CNCOwned, at any rate.

(ya tú sabes😉)

[poryphoria]

erm what the phreak......it's like some kind of phighting oc post in here!! yeah i have four of these guys n they're all a big beautiful found family. Smiles

Enphoso's gear is based off the joyful periastron epsilon, albeit VERY heavily modified- she's the Crossroads' very own slasher, and also the adoptive mother of these three doofuses! Despite being a serial killer she loves her babies very much and keeps regular contact with them. Somehow. We're not.... Entirely sure how that's working out- but hey, it is! She never shows any skin and uses a voice changer while speaking- no one's really sure what she looks or sounds like. She's in her early 60s, so she's pretty damn adept at keeping herself alive.

Zombiestaff's gear is xeir namesake- xey wanted to be a Phighter, but unfortunately Dom & Valk have filed a restraining order on them due to xeir.... Unorthodox methods, putting it politely. Besides xeir tendency to Literally Just Bite People, xeir Phinisher quite literally entails mind controlling any Phighters within a certain radius, briefly turning them into hapless zombies to serve Zombiestaff's bidding! After some brief discussing and one-too many matches swept, the move was agreed to be illegal and Zombiestaff was banned from using xeir gear in matches. This doesn't stop xem from sneaking into the ring every so often, of course! Xey are the youngest sibling, jobless and currently living in the sewers of the Crossroads. C:

Bloxy Cola is god's least favorite service worker! Similar to Zombiestaff (despite what xey might insist), her dreams of being a Phighter also fell through, though mostly due to his own anxieties and feelings that her gear was "worthless" for combat. He works painfully long shifts at a gas station in the middle of buttfuck nowhere instead, selling cheap junk food and gasoline to people who are probably, generally having more fun than her for a living! He's tired, man. She's very tired. He's the middlest sibling.

Alien Parasite is a rather interesting case. Oldest sibling, and the only actual successful Phighter of the phamily- she used to reside in Playground with the rest of her family, until a particular Sword event and a bad run-in rendered it partially zombified! She still has a relative amount of her personality and free will intact, which is exactly why Blackrock took such a strong interest in it. She was "politely made" an "offer" of free housing within Blackrock, in exchange for completely signing away its human rights to scientific study- and really, how could a guy refuse??? Her siblings don't hear from it much anymore, but any correspondence they do get out of her sounds cheerful enough, so surely it's doing fine! Right? Right??

.....Bloxy and Zombie don't like to think about it all that much.

under the cut is some bonus doodles, concepts n little snippets of them interacting C:

+ hey man who's that

[summertimemusician]

Linktober Shadow Day 5

Master Kohga

*slams this down* LATE AND WITH ONE HECK OF A HEADACHE BUT I MADE IT!

Also I feel like we also need to talk about that the reason the Yiga are such doofuses usually is because they're riding the high of a full 100 years victory, and that after getting throughly kicked in the ribs they're probably gonna commit more crimes and probably return to their even more brutal roots actually, Kogah probably being the most likely one to shift to that first.

This goes out to you Warriors fans and simps, because ooh boy is he a delight to write, I think the duality of his name and status as a soldier is neat even if he's not my favorite Link.

Though the regular Linktober one will have to wait after I'm a bit more rested though so either later today or tomorrow, sorry folks.

Also uh warnings ahead?

TW:

Some descriptions of violence, specifically wrist targeted violence, kidnapping, and Reader going a little feral in defense of Warriors, nothing too big, but as this is coming from a horror fan I advise anyone who is squeamish to skip this one.

On a scale of one to ten of intimidation wrought by enemies of the Chain has faced, you’re pretty sure Kohga and the Yiga wouldn’t make even a negative ten on a normal day.

You’re not sure if it’s due to Wild’s most blase attitude about having a literal clan of traitorous, murderous Sheikah at him, a mix of bafflingly phlegmatic and elated with amused delight when talking about schemes you’d more associate to slapstick comedy than anything, the way you’ve seen any Yiga members dive for any throw bananas like a starving Wolfos pack on a lone Stalfos even if there was a cliff right in front of them with even more single minded determination than what was given to their mission, the way he’d refer to them as “Look they’re technically insane menaces to polite society out for mine and Flora’s blood, but they’re our technically insane menaces to polite society out for our blood” with a mix of bemusement and amusement or a mix of all three but according to the resident cook they truly weren’t a threat compared to, say, the cultists of Hyrule’s time whose sole goal wasn’t even to kill him but simply make him bleed, or Majora whom indirectly inflicted endless torture on Time, or Demise who literally started the cycle all of your heroes inevitably went through (because you could never blame Sky, none of you would even if it took shaking the notion into his thick skull). And they’ve apparently gone even more docile and to ground after Wild had defeated their master.

“And THEN he apparently has the nerve to go through our base and raid our banana supply! The nerve of that pesky, insistently annoying pest- Hey, are you even listening?” The sudden call made you jump, hissing as your wrist restraints dug into your skin, because apparently shackles with spikes on the inside of them are a thing and you very much would not have liked the approximate feeling of barbed wire wedged into your skin, biting into your flesh with all the viciousness and brutality that ensured you wouldn’t move your hands without feeling agony, the tone indignant as the presumably dead man stomped his foot nearby, “This is serious! First he peels me and my clan members like a banana, greatly exaggerates the rumor of my death and then THIS?!”

You school your features, trying really, really hard not to act out again as it comes down dangerously close onto Warrior’s unconscious head. Nodding along with the seriousness and solemnity worthy of a funeral, “Talk about the pot calling the kettle black! Such disrespect, at least you guys didn’t exaggerate about his death. And you’re supposed to be the bad guys here?”

(Well, more like you couldn’t move, really, funny thing about spikes on one’s skin and having one of your legs broken to the point glancing at exposed bone makes you want to dry heave at the gory sight, it.is.agony. Funny, how pain is an effective restraint in keeping people pinned down better than any arrow.)

You quickly revised your opinion and reassess the threat given the situation you're in now, as after your patrol on Wild’s Hyrule with Warriors you’d gotten ambushed and kidnapped through a mix of a double Silver Lynel ambush and sheer element of the surprise as bait, Warriors going down protecting you with all of the ferocity of his namesake, and choosing to risk getting a little roughed up over being separated from him.

You’re quite proud of yourself really, what with the way that you almost fully tore a chunk out of a Blademaster’s throat with your teeth and before they gave up, leg broken and with the spikes on your wrist as you woke up first with the fury of Volvagia’s fire scorching your veins, overwhelming the icy chill of terror in your veins and only instinct driving you because who knows what they’d done to him. Worth it. You wouldn’t forgive yourself if you let something happen to your favorite soldier boy. At least now you’re both in the same place, even if it’s with the man running the doomsday show himself.

“I know right?! Once I get my hands on that little nuisance, I am going to kill him dead!”

It’s a bit of a pity, in a way. You’re sure that under better circumstances you’d be as amused as Wild by him and he’d be a lovely conversation partner, you doubt the Yiga would follow him if he wasn’t charismatic after all, like watching a wet cat get their head stuck in a jar you had to admit watching the man struggle and fail was just a bit hilarious.

Alas by the whims of the gods spinning the wheel of fate and making it be fully comprised of misfortune to the point you really would like to have a nice chat involving your fists and their faces and maybe one foot straight up Hylia's gash, twas not to be, but it works in your favor. You just needed to stall for as long as you could until Warriors woke up or had an opening stop feigning sleep, either works.

“I just had a thought, a truly magnificent idea worthy of someone as worthy of being the Calamity’s most trusted champion! You travel with that twerp and his companions don’t you?”, the man stilled, then swerved towards you, you contained a flinch in a sudden movement, just on the edge of cartoony, adamantly looking over his shoulder rather than the twisted, crimson eye of the cold mask of the leader of the people who joked about keeping one of Warriors’ eyes as a necklace for it worked just as well as gem, “You could work for us instead, we’d pay you quite well for the information.”

Adamantly trying not to look at Warrior’s behind him, you hummed, head tilted, pretending to think about it, then shrugging, “Eh, I’ll pass. You Yiga don’t take well to traitors no?”

The man crossed his arms, adamantly nodding, “Of course not! Any and all who forsake our god should be slowly watch as their body parts are fed to Moldugas while they’re still alive!”

Cool, cool, lovely imagery to have, you were going to have one serious talk with Wild about proper threat assement once you’re back in camp by the way. You smile a bit back, remembering Warrior’s and using it as a reason to force a grimace away. Of the way he could charm better than any prince, making people fall in love with him effortlessly for better or worse and how you or Legend would viciously defend him from the worse crowd even if it gave you both Time’s exasperation (and grief from the other Links, who are all menaces whom you wished were less perceptive at times). Of the way he amusedly shared with you he main advantage was that no one could ever tell wether he was being friendly or baring his teeth, and how he slowly let you notice wether the curve was sharp or soft as you got closer. Making a point of showing your bloody, bloody teeth from both the Blademaster and which dripped down your head from one heck of a Lynel kick, you did not have Warriors natural charisma but you’d make do with your mediocre charm. “Well, I’m not in the habit of liking traitors much either you see. Sorry to let you down on that, plus if I can turn on them I can turn on you right? Better we skip that, I can give you a banana cake and banana pretzel recipe from where I’m from as compensation though?”

(You did not, in fact, know a recipe for banana cakes and pretzels by the way, but at this point you'll say anything just to buy you more time. Nothing like the age old ancient technique of lying. Wars would be proud his lessons came in handy.)

To his credit, he didn’t flinch. You’d actually be a bit shocked if he did given his clans entire gimmick to be fair. Sliding away from Warrior’s prone form and towards the one actually open door, keeping his back to the soldier, although his attention immediately focused on you like a Guardians aim, completely missing the light twitch to Warriors’ fingers you could spot in the dim torch light, “Fair enough, though you’re missing out on a lot if you ask me. Now! Banana cake you say? Might you be a person of culture after all even with an horrendous choice of company?”

Would you look at that, looking like a horror show does have it’s advantages!

“I mean I’d write it down but you know,”, you make a vague motion with your wrists, wincing a bit at the spikes, those would be a pain to get out later, you’d much have preferred ropes or chains, “But if you get some paper or get me to a kitchen I can direct your folks how to make it? You’d be the first to get a taste of it if you’re there too.”

He hums, pacing back and forth, Warriors eyes lightly crack open, the sapphire clouding with shock at your state, you can’t look at him long enough to figure out the ensuing combination of emotions, flashing, but you do see when the gems are forged into cobalt blades, you quickly mouth to him ‘Get free’ as soon as Kohga isn’t looking at you, he closes his eyes as Kohga turns towards him and nods. Though the Poe flame azure of his gaze could have probably killed the leader of the Yiga ten times over as he addresses you, “You’re an awfully generous hostage aren’t you? Though I like the way you think.”

You shrug, “I mean I’m not being manhandled, plus I’m bored so why not make some good food to kill time?”

You can see him weight his options, unnervingly staring at you beneath the mask. You adamantly don’t look at Warriors’ as he slides his boot very lightly against the wall, a small blade springing from the small compartment, thanking the Three the Yiga didn’t check either of your shoes as he twists around as silently as he can manage to cut himself free as Kogah nods, “Anyone with an appreciation for bananas should be allowed to share their wisdom, can you walk?”

You give him a flat look, you think Warriors bites his tongue to keep from making an equally indignant sound as Kohga seems to have the dots, awkwardly coughing, “That was a retorical question of course you can’t! I shall however extend you my benevolence, and call on my subordinates to carry you-“

He doesn’t even get to finish his sentence when Warriors pounces with a snarl, you lurch back, hissing as the spikes make your wrists bleed and chocking down a shout at the pain that crawls through your leg like lightning, but it’s enough.

Warriors wraps the remains of his rope around the Yiga Clan Leader’s throat in a makeshift garrote, and make sure to use his momentum to slam his head against the cold, hard ground of the hideout, doing it again for good measure with all of the strength and ferocity you knew for a fact he kept as well sheathed as a hidden blade.

It all took but a second, he didn’t even scream. You doubt that killed him, but he isn’t getting back up any time soon.

You slump over, coughing blood from your mouth, it wouldn't help much but it was a start, “Welcome back to the land of the living, Wars.”

He rushes towards you as soon as he finishes tying Kohga up with the remnants of his own rope, gently wiping the blood from your sight, he was battered and bruised but the most beautiful thing you’ve seen in your life as he checked you over, and you couldn’t help but lean into his touch, relief ringing like a sword being sheathed, it would be alright. “Can’t say I’m happy to be fashionably late this time. What did they do to you?”

“Hey, none of that,” you gently touch your foreheads together, you smile, tasting rust on your lips though Warriors doesn’t mind as you lightly try to take his mind out of it, “You should see the other guy.”

He sighs, fondly exasperated as he shakes his head, you consider the quirk of his lips a win even as he pauses over your wrists, eyes flashing with rage before focusing on your leg, “I’m sure, that was a killer performance. Maybe after all this is over you should take up acting back home.”

You snort, “I mean I did learn from the best-“

it distracts you long enough for him to snap your leg back into place. And all you know is that you with pain, ripping through your throat as you finally, finally, feel safe enough to pass out.

(Warriors winces sympathetically, heart breaking a little at your pain but knowing it was the only way you wouldn’t focus on it, better than for . Holding you close and allowing you to muffle your scream into his shoulder as he wraps your leg in his scarf, guilty and fury carefully hidden behind the soldier mask, knowing that the only thing that would satisfy the flames of retribution in his chest would be to use the Yiga as kindling until they eventually burned the remnants of protective rage all away to ash.

But he could make do with taking you as gently as he could as you pass out in his arms, resolve himself to get the contraption on your wrists out as soon as you were both back at camp. And to kicking Kogah on the way out. It's not nearly enough but it's a start.

You protected him as best as you could, it’s his turn to return the favor as he can as well. Anything else can come later.)

[lolotheparagon]

Another type of villain I love aside from cackling doofuses are villains with good publicity. It makes them much more threatening cos their seemingly perfect reputation (or even worse, their polite amiable attitude) creates more obstacles for the protagonists so they have to dig deeper into finding enough evidence to show the villain’s true colours.

My fave examples are Hugo Strange (Arkham City), Skye Larsen (Watchdogs Legion) and Simon Skinner (Hot Fuzz)

[smash-chu]

Wait why are you named Septum if you are most of the time not even seven people nor does any of you have septum piercings?

These doofuses are the characters of me and one of my dnd groups, with a campaign going for 4+ years strong, and for some reason i've never made a thing to explain who the fuck these guys are - so here's a thing, i guess

Marimoo Tilltull, a halfling bard and a lovebird in more than one meaning of the word. She can be very brash and has a tendency to use pretty bad language no matter the situation, but has a generally good heart - one that is however very easily influenced by those around her. Her loyalty to her friends and loved ones is her strongest attribute, but also the most easily exploitable one. Support through and through, partly out of wanting to be as helpful as possible to her party members, but also as a means to avoid slipping into past bad habits of violence.

Saeren Ikesworn, the party wizard and tactical dragonborn. He has vowed to take revenge on the oppressive society that he hailed from by wanting to one day kill the dragons at the helm. A skilled spellcaster not afraid to get his claws dirty, he has quite some confidence that he boasts. Not the most socially skilled he does sometimes struggle with not saying certain things and how to deal with other people's emotional problems that can't be solved with a simple spell or killing someone.

Melicand Laforo / Moonflower, the coastal druid that now bears Ilmaters blessing. Once a stuck at home noble that after her brother's disappearance and her fiance's descent into demonic influence went out into the world. She fancies herself the party's healer, as much as she can manage, currently unable to do so because of the cursed illithid tadpole she harbors that spreads its influence to those she uses her spells on. Despite being a kind and pure soul she's suffered much, and will suffer much more probably (because she can never catch a damn break).

Abiel Gereisch and his familiar Yaboku, a elven warlock with his trusty magical cat (well, most of the time a cat). He used to work as a caretaker in the noble family he was raised in, who met his patron after desperately seeking aid to find the child he was looking after after she had disappeared during a trip away from the estate. Growing ever closer to his fiendish patron that nowadays travels with the party, the two can even be considered a couple at this point. He is a softspoken and polite fella, while his familiar can be a bit moody given the situation.

The other members of the group, whom are currently off doing other things, are: The vampire hemomancer, turned vampire lord after the party helped dethrone his sister and kill his "dad", known as Dakin Noctoras. He's kind of a bastard. Then there's Roland Greycastle, the human(?) fighter, a guy who rarely says much and is always seen with his armor on. Lastly there's Vel'koz Tzaangor, the kenku wildmagic sorcerer with semi demonic origins, whom is a nervous guy who mostly wants to find his missing mom after a accident happened as a result of his wild magic.

This is obviously very cut down, these fuckers got so much shit tied to their backstories and stuff that has happened across the one+ year in game they've been traveling together.

[rbatt014]

New York, New York. I Still Love Ya, Even With The Crime

When I was in my late teens, I was lucky enough to go play around in Manhattan during the Koch years, when the city was dirty, corrupt, a horrorshow on every block. It was a ten dollar train ride from NJ and a small trip under the Hudson. My crew of malcontents would go upstairs to 9th Street, and immediately get our Old English 800 forties, our nitrous crackers, and bottles of Rush. We’d poke…

[ri5k]

guys might think about the roman empire in terms of like, "trebuchets are cool" and "gladiator shit was crazy" but you cannot seriously tell me the average man even knows enough about history to think about it in any level of depth. even the doofuses who try to compare modern politics to ancient rome clearly understand next to nothing. be for real

[stephenjaymorrisblog]

Oliver Anthony!

Wood Guthrie or right-wing agitprop?

Stephen Jay Morris

8/16/2023

©Scientific Morality

Oh, here we go again! Last month it was Jason Aldean, whose music had that vibe sound all the kids are into today. Plus, his lyrics did not rhyme. It was modern day prose. Get a rhyming dictionary, ding-dong doofuses!  His lyrics sound like the Heritage Foundation folks wrote it. “Try It in a Small Town” is yesterday’s news; gone with the wind! It took three guys to write the damn song!

All in all, this wasn’t a Motown song that became a major hit by mass appeal. It was a well-crafted, agitprop that infers vigilante justice by angry, middle class, white people against Antifa and Black Lives Matter. Neither does it evoke Bob Dylan lyrics that require in depth analysis of its symbolism. No! These pernicious lyrics have been crafted, and are intended for passive/aggressive WASPs and their esoteric language. They can read each other’s minds—or so, they claim.

Well, now comes this month’s mole. It is a perfect casting choice done in Hollywood style. With his short, red hair and lush beard, the dude looks like Vincent Van Gogh! He lives in a place called Farmville. Perfect! He has ninety acres of land and three big dogs. Is he married with kids? I do not know. If he is, he’d be a perfect candidate for the “every day, ordinary person.” This latest model exudes rugged individualism. Is he an A.I. creation? Seems like it.

A man with just a voice and a guitar can be a powerful thing. Oliver’s voice is archetypal Country and Western, though it is loud and clear. His guitar playing is adequate, like that of a Mel Bay student in their first year of guitar lessons. Given his lyrics, however, all possibilities for a promising career become a car crash. The conservatives will never learn that the Anti-Authoritarian Left are the trues artists.

Now on the chance that he wrote the words himself, it is evident that they come from his emotions. That is fair! Music comes from the brain and lyrics come from the heart. However, facts do not care about your feelings. In political statements, you cannot state a Left- wing view and then a Right- wing view. He did say he is a centrist. A centrist is like a big ass: You got your left cheek and your right cheek, and in the middle is the butt hole! Let us examine some of his lyrics. Shall we?

Here is where his lyrics crash into a wall:

Quote: I wish politicians would look out for miners, and not just minors on an island somewhere. End Quote. Good play on words. However, “politicians”? You do know that Republicans hate unions, don’t you? Perhaps you don’t believe in collective bargaining. How about the fact that they couldn’t care less about pedophilia, rampant among the religious Right. Perhaps you don’t believe in the truth. In either case, it is sad.

Quote: Lord, we got folks in the street. Aint got nothing to eat, and the obese milkin’ welfare. Well, God, if you’re 5 foot 3 and 300 pounds, taxes ought not to pay for your bags of Fudge Rounds. End Quote. First, as far as government assistance goes, President Bill Clinton did away with Welfare in the 90’s. Food stamps are still offered, but the benefit is very meager. You’d be lucky to buy milk and bread. Second, “obese,”—you resort to fat shaming? Being fat doesn’t equal wealth!  When you are poor, the only food you can afford is the junk from mini-marts, McDonald’s,or Taco Bell. Most junk food is full of empty calories and leads to heart problems and diabetes.  You imply that obese, African Americans are on welfare. Whoa! Whoa there, Hoss! America is home to the majority of obese people in the world! As for the motto, “Everything is big in Texas,” well, most of the state is populated by fat white women. It is a chubby chasers’ paradise over yonder! You said that you previously used booze and pot to suppress your depression. Alcohol is highly caloric. Unless you routinely chop wood, that explains why you’re not fit. Some drink beer to feel better and some eat to quell their melancholy.

So, let’s wrap this up! Oliver Anthony is either confused about political issues or just stupid. Sadly, working class people are victims of the rhetoric of pastors, Republicans, and Fox News. It all makes them willfully ignorant.

If you think your lyrics are just fine, then you are willfully stupid. I guess you won’t be singing to striking workers anytime soon. You want to learn something, read my articles! Remember when laid-off, Kentucky coalminers blocked southern railroad tracks in a 2019 protest? They called on the president for support and what did he do? Nothing.

Breaks your heart, don’t it?

[hobbit--punk]

Okay, so Hobbitpunk is a thing now. We're doing this.

This started because of... well, you can read it here. But the basic premise is that I love punk and I love cottagecore, but can't seem to find an online community that isn't mostly about “the aesthetic” without practical lifestyle ideas. Look, I love a moodboard as much as the next person, I really do. But I can only handle so many scripted TikTok videos and screenshots from Animal Crossing.

We've all been sitting here pining for a romanticized life that we see in curated media, but the facts of the matter are that most of us can't have that life, not the way things are now. I don't know about you, but I have neither the money nor the skill to go peace out to a farm and live close to nature. It would be a disaster. It would also accomplish absolutely jack for anyone who wasn't me and my husband. I also can't open a bookstore or a tea shop, and I'm WAY too broke to fill my wardrobe with fair trade, sustainably made clothing unless I pick up the needle and do it myself (which... in progress.).

If you're anything like me, you're at best living in a meh apartment that the landlord doesn't take care of, in a city somewhere. You might also be living with family in an environment you can't control, or in a small town where you're literally the only person with your interests. I've done both of these as well, which is why my punk/goth phase waited until I was in my 20s to actually become visible. Heh heh. “Phase.” I'm in my late 30s now.

Anyway. I'm not really proposing an aesthetic. There probably will be one, I can't see this happening without inspiration photos from time to time, but I actually want whatever this is to be a practical lifestyle that everyday doofuses like you and me can do. “Hobbitpunk” is... exactly what it says on the tin. Punk ideals in a hobbity skill set, or vice versa. Tearing down a defunct, bullshit system and replacing it with something wholesome.

The original post included this, as the sort of thing I've been picturing:

Imagine drinking tea while lounging in a room full of mismatched, thrifted furniture that’s comfy as shit, but held together with duct tape. You’re wrapped in a handmade quilt, and reading Karl Marx. There are assorted dumpster dived containers on your windowsill full of herbs and salad greens. You’ll make hot soup for supper, and share it with a half-dozen other freaks who showed up to plan a direct action that will probably involve stolen fireworks. Somebody baked bread to go with the soup, and a friend with a green mohawk and waistcoat covered in patches brought cookies.

From discussions with others, here are some of the ideas.

Ideals: Crafting, anarchy, adventure, home and hearth stuff, homecooked food, radical body acceptance, political activism, books, music, sustainability, feminism, and socialism (or communism, if that's your thing) are good. Transphobia, homophobia, the patriarchy, white supremacy, consumerism, capitalism, abuse, war, and whatever the hell these “Tradwife” folks are doing (I'm still not sure, other than promoting some serious Stockholm Syndrome with your abusers?) are bad.

I'm personally a fan of peace and love, but I do know that sometimes, you gotta swing the frying pan and bash some orcs.

Decor: Your living quarters are probably fine as they are. I'm not telling you to go shopping for this. If you don't like how your place looks now, then keep your eyes open at thrift stores for things like handmade quilts and afghans, good quality cooking tools, and anything that looks cozy and comfy. Don't worry if it matches or not, just make it the sort of place that someone would feel safe in. Books, maps, embroidered pillows, swords, whatever. You do you.

Clothing: Yes, yes, I know there's a “punk uniform” and the Hobbits in the movies had a very specific “look.” We're not cosplaying here. Put down the prosthetic ears. PUT THEM DOWN. Your closet... is probably fine as it is. If you've made it this far in my post, then I imagine you're already kind of halfway there. Dress comfy, and to your tastes. Have fun. You wanna dye your hair purple? Wear a corset and an apron? Combat boots and a wool waistcoat? Go for it.

Just try not to purchase “fast fashion” clothing from WalMart, or wherever. Thrift stores are what I'd recommend. Or learn to sew, and just kind of stay aware of where your fabrics are coming from.

Activities: Learn to make things. Sewing, cooking, woodworking, leatherworking, whatever. Hop onto YouTube and explore. Read books, all of the books. Take care of your neighbors and make sure the people around you are safe. Hunt racists for sport. Steal from the rich (if that's your thing). Rescue animals. Rescue people out of abusive/dangerous situations. Show up to the protests with soup. Find what needs done in your community and do it yourself if you can. Host potlucks and feed people. Go on road trips. Make tea. And beer if you want. Share your skills with the community so others can do the thing too.

If I can pull this off, I'll try to share videos with skills and links to information as I can find it. If y'all find something cool too, please feel free to show it to me. The asks and submissions are open. Do the thing. 

[ecoamerica]

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

[twistedmusings]

Second Year Without You

A/N: HAHA I LOVE PAIN. I wrote almost all of this on my phone so I apologize for any spelling mistakes but with the twst 1 year anniversary my hands just called out to me to create nothing but pain u wu. So let me guys know what you think and...Happy 1 year anniversary~!

How the first years react to you suddenly disappearing before their second year starts.

“This is taking forever.”

Grim yawned as he made himself comfortable in your lap, your hand running through his fur as you struggled to stay awake. It was sort of impossible since the church building was still so eerily quiet as each new student’s dorm decisions were made.

Which made you wonder why you were even here.

Ramshackle wasn’t necessarily an official dorm so this weird sorting ceremony didn’t even mean anything to you. This was two hours of your life you weren’t going to get back apparently since Crowley decided that your presence was oh so important and now you were shifting uncomfortably in your seat as the last student stood in front of the mirror so their dorm could be decided.

“Oh. Malleus you might have a chance with this one.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean he came in rather gallantly and looks like the type to be good with magic so he would be perfect for Diasmonia.”

The Diasmonia dorm leader chuckles into his hand.

“Is that your final bet?”

“...yeah that’s my final one.” you tilt your head backwards as you look at Azul, “What did you put down?”

“Clearly Pomefiore, Prefect. You haven’t guessed right with any of the other student’s dorm matches so I am purposefully avoiding your suggestions.”

He meets your glare with a smile, jotting down a couple of notes as he turns to Kalim to ask him of his decision. The seven dorm leaders had followed along with the little game you began to play around the thirty minute mark of the ceremony, turning it into a betting pool the moment Azul got serious.

The room goes quiet as the face in the mirror finally chooses to appear.

"Your soul...it belongs in Pomefiore!"

Your groan is hidden by polite clapping, Malleus patting your head as you choose to hang it in shame. This felt just like failing one of Crewel's quizzes but now you were 600 madol poorer.

"Prefect that was a major loss...I might have to stop talking to you if this affects my gacha pulls."

The tablet hovers beside you, clearly mocking your incredible loss before you bat it away and turn to look at Crowley.

"And with that, my dear students, the ceremony is concluded. Please follow your vice dorm leaders to your designated dorms...and welcome to Night Raven College!"

You stand up, put Grim down and stretch, waving goodbye to the other dorm leaders as you wonder just what in the world you were going to have for dinner tonight. You knew Azul was going to open Monstro Lounge in celebration so maybe you should go--

"Oi! Prefect!"

Well that was quick.

Ace smiles as he approaches the pew first, talking to you about how boring the ceremony was and what you were planning to do afterwards. Deuce comes up behind him followed by Epel while Jack and Sebek talk with their dorm leaders for a few moments before heading to where you were standing.

“We got some news, by the way~” Ace smiles as he throws up some jazz hands towards Sebek, “May I present to you the soon to be vice dorm leader of Diasmonia~!”

Sebek tries to frown but there is a clear smile on his face as he takes off his hood, beaming with pride as you shake his hand. You would have gone with high-five but you figured he would like this better.

“Did Malleus break the news to you?”

“He did!” the fae’s voice breaks through the hushed silence, “Young Master approached me ever so elegantly and let me know of my role for next year! The mere act was so moving and inspiring!”

“I also got some news!” Epel grins as he gets butts in front of Sebek, “The Magic Shift club captain told me that I’m in the running for first string! If I win one more game I’ll be able to play with them officially!”

You go to congratulate Epel but stop when Ace also butts in front of him, “Better news! I’ve been made vice-captain of the basketball team! Jamil was going to give the title to Floyd but then he decided better against it.”

“So you were the second choice.” Jack says as he pulls his hood down.

“And the best one! Jamil knew the choice he was going to make all along, he was just messing with me.” Ace grins as he turns towards you, “Impressive, huh?”

You hum before laughing, “I would say it was impressive if it wasn’t for the fact that I know for a fact Floyd would do a worse job at any leadership position than you.”

“Oi!”

The group laughs before Epel tugs on Deuce’s robe and pushes him so that he is in front of you next.

“And Prefect, may I present the new captain of the Track and Field club!”

Deuce’s face goes a light shade of pink as Epel tugs on his cheek, “He said he wanted to tell his mom first before telling us but I figured since we are all talking about achievements…”

“Because it was not set in stone!” the Heartslabyul student takes Epel’s hand and pulls it away from his hand, “Jack still has a good chance to get it instead of me.”

“Mm. I would rather it go to you, Deuce.” Jack smiles as he pats his shoulder, “I see how hard you work during practices so I think the position would be perfect for you.”

“Oh right. Leona told me.” you smile at Jack, “Am I right in assuming we are talking to the vice dorm leader of Savannaclaw?”

“I--!” wolf ears twitch as Jack blushes, looking at you in disbelief before sighing as the others stare at him in expectation, “...Yes. Ruggie-senpai told me before the ceremony.”

Everybody gives him a round of applause as his blush deepens in color, making you laugh as you lean over to pat his shoulder. To think they were all now second years…

You included.

I’m supposed to be finding a way home…

The thought is catapulted from your head as Grim sets himself down on top of it, smiling as he topples forward so you would catch him in your arms.

“Fgnya~! The Great Grim and his henchman have news too!”

A paw is pointed at you, your cue to speak apparently.

“...Ramshackle is getting some big renovations soon! We managed to talk Crowley into it and he agreed to renovate both the kitchen and the bathroom as well as possibly renovating some of the rooms!”

“What!” Ace laughs, “How did you pull that off!?”

“Hehe~” Grim taps his chest twice, “I told the Headmaster that Ramshackle can serve as a place for guests from other schools to stay over! He gets a place to brag about with potential guests and we get brand new things!”

Epel hums, “So it’s like a hotel.”

Both you and Grim stay quiet and look away, the group laughing knowing Epel had hit right on the mark.

You stay quiet as they talk with one another, smiling fondly at seeing your group of friends happily enjoying their life here in Night Raven College. You didn't even know how it happened but this little group had become like your family in the one year you stayed here. The homesickness you felt whenever you realized you were far from your home was always subdued by hanging out with them and taking part in their shenanigans. To you it was crazy to think about it this way but...you loved them.

Ace’s tricks but also his quiet support of you and the rest of the group.

Deuce’s tenacity but also the gentle side he let only his friends see.

Jack’s work ethic along with his more nurturing side.

Epel’s constant growth as a person yet never forgetting where he came from.

Sebek’s devotion towards his Young Master as well as realizing his own strength.

And Grim’s goal of wanting to be the greatest magician ever but never leaving you behind.

You loved these six dorks so much, more than you would care to admit to yourself.

Finding a way home was no longer such a big priority in your eyes. You used to ask the Headmaster constantly for a way back home but you believed that this place had become more of a home in your eyes. So the constant reminder that you weren’t from here was silenced by just how much these six made you feel like you were part of a big family.

“...I’m starving.” you finally speak up as you let go of Grim, “You guys want to drop by the Monstro Lounge?”

“Can we drop by Pomefiore first? I forgot my wallet.”

“Prefect! We should invite the Young Master too!”

“If we are going to do that then let’s invite Leona-senpai as well. I have a feeling he will complain if Malleus-senpai is the only one in the celebration.”

“Do you think we should invite Riddle after the first year’s celebration, Ace?”

Deuce turns to look at his fellow student, blinking when he has to turn all the way around.

“Ace?”

All heads turn to look at the other second year, cherry red eyes shining as he points at the mirror still floating in the center of the room.

“You know. Since the mirror is still here…” Ace smiles as he walks over to you and takes your hand, “Don’t you think we should try your sorting again?”

“Huh?”

Your sorting?

That’s right. The mirror had said that your soul didn’t really belong anywhere when you first came here.

“I honestly don’t think it’s going to be any different, Ace.” you shrug, “Besides I sort of already belong in a dorm--”

Grim comes up behind you, “Exactly! They belong in the dorm we made!”

“Oh come on! Wouldn’t it be fun!” Ace looks back at the group, “It’s just us here. Don’t you guys want to see what dorm Prefect would have been sorted in?”

Jack hums before looking at you, “I believe you would make a fine Savannaclaw student.”

“Well they also helped out with Pomefiore, I think that would be a good fit for them too.” Epel sighs, “If they were there I wouldn’t feel like a green apple in a red apple orchard.”

Sebek taps his chin a few moments before nodding, “Despite having no magical talent, your presence in Diasmonia would be greatly appreciated.”

“Okay okay you doofuses, I think we all know what dorm they would be sorted in.” Ace wraps an arm around you as he gestures Deuce over, “So say hello to the Heartslabyul Trio~”

“Ace! Stop trying to get my henchman somewhere else! They belong in Ramshackle!”

Grim tugs on your hood while you quickly ask him to stop, your arms flailing around before you pull your hood down and find yourself face to face with the mirror.

“Ace I don’t think--” you turn to look at him but the other just puts his hand together as if he were praying.

“Just one look, Prefect! Please!” Ace smiles as he looks over at Deuce, “We are all curious, right?”

Deuce’s nervous expression relaxes as he sees that there really was nobody else around.

“It wouldn’t hurt to know. It’d be just us.”

“I agree! I am way too curious to not know now!”

“Your true nature is showing, Epel.”

“Don’t pretend like you’re not curious, Jack!”

“Quiet humans! The face in the mirror is deciding!”

You quickly turn around as you see the face in the mirror, a knot in your chest suddenly forming as the chamber falls into silence. What a feeling of dejavu. You remember just how you felt when you were standing in front of the mirror the first time.

No idea where you were, no idea what was to come.

And the feeling of being an outcast had been unbearable when the mirror stated that you belonged nowhere...but you had carved out a little place here to call your own. Despite the fact that you knew where you were going to sleep tonight and where you were going to wake up in the morning, the knot of nervousness relaxed and turned into a curious dizziness, the silence only serving to make the noise in your ears ring.

The mirror only stared at you for a minute longer before speaking up.

“It seems your time is up.”

You blink as the face disappears, turning towards the others as they all share the same look of confusion before sighing as they turn around and start walking towards the exit.

“Well that was anticlimactic.” Ace pouts, “Thought for sure they belonged in Heartslabyul.”

Deuce sighs, “Monstro Lounge for sure must be full now. How will we get a table?”

“We can celebrate in Diasmonia instead! I know that the dorm is going to be full of fae cuisine!”

“...I...prefer taking my chances at the Monstro Lounge.” Epel smiles as he look at Jack, “Or maybe Savannaclaw?”

“It would be rowdy but if you don’t mind that sort of atmosphere.”

“Savannaclaw usually has some good roasted beef! Do you know if they have that there today?” Grim places himself on Jack’s head as the other keeps talking about their celebration.

“Alright. We’ll check Monstro Lounge and then Savannaclaw! Oi, Prefect, get a move--”

Ace’s eyes widen as he turns around, dread climbing up his legs and curling around his neck as he looks at the small orbs of lights floating away in the place where you were supposed to be.

Only to find that you weren’t there anymore.

--What...the hell?

--He looks around, wondering where you went and calling out your name. It starts out with a couple of laughs at first but the dread in his stomach grows as well as the volume of his voice.

"Oi! This isn't funny! Come out already!"

--Deuce is calling out to him but he can't listen to him, all he can remember is the mirror's voice saying that time was up?

--Time? As in your time in Twisted Wonderland? But...you said that the Headmaster hadn't found a way to get you back home. He didn't want to disappoint you but after a whole year with them...he didn't believe that you would go back. Which was alright! Ace was more than ready to make this a home for you! He didn't know how he was going to do it, but goddammit he at least wanted to try!

--He wasn't done with you yet! He hadn't shown you the cool trick shot he learned to shoot with Floyd, or the awesome new magic trick he designed with you in mind! You would always look past his tricks so he wasn't able to fool you but he thought that this one would be worthy of your praise!

--Eyes glare at the mirror as he lets his feelings spill out.

"BRING THEM BACK! THEY AREN'T DONE HERE! THEY BELONG HERE! BRING THEM BACK!"

--Jack is holding him back from lashing at the object and after a few moments of thrashing around, all Ace can do is stare at the spot you were at a moment ago with his eyes stinging from tears that still refused to fall.

--He didn't even get to say goodbye.

--At first all he can do is stare. Where had you gone? Were you playing some sort of prank on them? If you were...this really wasn’t funny at all. You two had promised to go running together in the morning with Jack, you needed to get back to Ramshackle to sleep so it was best if you celebrated early and then went to bed--

“Deuce. Go get the Headmaster."

--He doesn't remember much after that. All he remembers is Ace yelling and Jack holding him back before he was rushing out of the building and towards the Headmasters office.

--You couldn't be gone. Where did you even go? A part of him doesn't even want to say that you had gone back. There was nowhere you had to go back to in his head. Twisted Wonderland was your home and you belonged here just like the rest of them.

--Memories of his time with you make his feet move faster, the robes proving a great weight but not at all stopping him from reaching his goal.

--Everything would be fine. They would find a way to get you back and Deuce wouldn't allow himself to let you do something so irresponsible again. He should have stopped Ace when he could! And once you came back then he could give you a proper send off.

--His feet were sore, his lungs were burning but he wouldn’t dare stop running, finally reaching the Headmasters office as he pulled the door open with all his might.

--He just wanted to get you back so he could properly thank you. You were his buddy...and he didn't want to let you go without you knowing that.

--It's hard holding back against his instincts.

--His body's first response is to also grab at the mirror and find out where you had gone. The idea of you disappearing just like that was impossible, especially after all the trouble the Headmaster had in finding a portal to your world. So, to him, you were immediately in danger.

--He clenched his fists hard as he walked Ace towards one of the pews, letting him sit down as Epel and Sebek approached him. They were asking questions and clearly depending on him for some sort of guidance. Which wasn’t completely out of the norm, he was an older brother and had grown to care for his friends just as he would his siblings. One year did a lot to bring people closer together. But what could he do but remain quiet as Epel and Sebek asked questions he could not answer.

--Jack had no idea where you had gone, no idea if you were going to come back and as the questions kept piling up the dread in his heart began to grow. Would you even come back?He knew how important family was and how terrible it was to be separated from them, but what about the people you left behind here? Your disappearance was already making them--no--him feel so powerless that he could only answer the other first year’s questions with a simple phrase.

“I don’t know.”

--He instinctively bared his teeth as the doors slammed opened, keeping Epel and Sebek behind him as the Headmaster entered the building with a frown, asking for a run down of the situation in full detail as possible. And while Jack would have taken charge of the situation in this scenario, just simply looking at the mirror kept him from articulating his thoughts correctly.

--Jack just wanted to know you were safe.

“We were left in the building all alone and we thought that [Y/N]-san should try to sort themselves again, just to see what would happen. Yet the mirror didn’t say anything and now they are...they are not--”

--Hold it back. Hold the tears back. Epel had gone through a lot in his time in both NRC and Pomefiore. He had been pushed out of his comfort zone through the VDC and just living in a dorm that was so unlike him but he had pushed through and adapted relatively well, with your help and the help of his friends. So now was not the time to cry!

--You had once praised him for his mental strength, saying that it took a lot of training for him to be put through Vil’s daily demands and training as well as keeping up with the Magishift club and his studies above all of that. With that little comment, and the support of his newfound friends, Epel’s mind had shifted into focusing on how strong he was mentally instead of physically.

--Something he needed to be now more than ever.

“They disappeared.”

“Headmaster, how are we going to bring them back?”

“Well...this was the way it was supposed to be from the start. As much as it pains me to say, it seems the Prefect finally found their way back home.”

“NO!”

--He puts a hand over his mouth, surprised by his own outburst. When he was still a beginning first year there were moments in which he had to keep himself in check from speaking like he would back home. As the year went on he had managed to keep himself in check and only let his accent and his voice volume slip when he was with his friends and with you.

--The Headmaster simply continued talking about the possibilities as Epel hung his head, biting his bottom lip as he remembered the last conversation you both had. With vacations upon them soon, Epel had invited you to come over and visit the Village of Harvest. First time he had a friend over there so he was all set to show you the sights of his little town and it would be your first official trip to another land in Twisted Wonderland!

--A hand touched his shoulder, Epel turning around as he saw Deuce looking down at him with tears in his eyes. That was the last straw as his own tears started to flow freely, Epel burying his face in the other’s robes so no one would have to see just how weak he looked.

“Sebek.”

--The fae’s back straightened out, the voice of his Young Master ringing out as he turned around to look at him. Several students were peeking through the door, trying to get a peek at what was happening while others worked to get the message around, yet Malleus was the only one brave enough to step through the threshold of the building and approach him.

--The Ramshackle prefect had disappeared.

--Sebek had a strange relationship with you. While he detested the way you treated the Young Master as nothing more than just another person, he had slowly started to come around to your way of thinking. The Young Master wanted a friend, and Sebek had only been keeping him at a distance due to his admiration.

--You taught him how to talk to his Young Master and how to appreciate a friendship with him instead of just blinding devotion.While he would still follow Malleus to the end of the earth, he did so as Malleu’s friend and not as his guard. In turn, he slowly started to feel like he would the same for you, as well.

--He was still very naive to relationships such as these but you had been patient, listening to him talk about Malleus when he wanted while also asking him of his other interests. Your teaching method had been effective and Sebek would have even dared to say that you were perhaps coming close to being his best friend.

--Although that chance had disappeared along with you.

--So the only thing he could do is stare into his Young Master’s eyes, the eyes of someone who was just as confused and as worried as he, and do his best to tell him what had happened and what the Headmaster had said.

--He knew that it was for the best that you had gone back home, but why did it feel so wrong?

[citrus-cactus]

FrontierFest, Day 6

Favorite Villain

Y’know how I said Frontier was a lot like Sailor Moon? Well, it’s more than the sentai team dynamics and transformation sequences. It’s about the villains, too! Particularly for the “original” four of Cheribumon’s generals, with all of their internal bickering, evil-henchman politics, one-upmanship, and backstabbing. It’s very much in the same vein as the Shitennou/Four Heavenly Kings or the Ayakashi/Spectre sisters from Sailor Moon and Sailor Moon R, which was my first exposure to that sort of villain dynamic, and I loooove it. These people (or digimon, or what-have-you) have interests and goals and motivations and relationships outside of just doing whatever the big bad boss-guy says or being evil for evil’s sake. It makes their antagonism so much more dynamic and human and interesting to watch.

Mostly, my love of this dysfunctional group of baddies is down to the choices made with Mercurymon and Ranamon in the American English dub. I LOVE Mercurymon’s pseudo-Shakespearean way of speaking, and how he can be poetic but surprisingly blunt. Everything he says is just so much fun (“Art thou blind? Thou art a TWIT!”), and you really get the sense that he is insufferably proud of being the smartest guy in the room, or at least he thinks he is. And I love Ranamon’s sugary-sweet Southern belle, who is incredibly vain and loses her composure at the drop of a hat (“How dare you insult me, Ah am a LADY!”). She’s such a brat! And then when you have Grumblemon being Angry(tm) and Arbormon only half paying attention, and Duskmon lurking in shadows being all aloof and competent, like… man, that is my jam. I LOVE that stuff and could have watched it play out for 20 more episodes!

Slight preference for Ranamon as #1 fave, because when Sakkukamon was inert, he was one heck of an Eldritch horror, but his plan took way too long to execute for what it really was and his downfall was swift and felt a bit anticlimactic once he was more active. Bonus points for ShadowSeraphimon though, that episode was *chef’s kiss*. Calmarimon is quite intimidating and has a fun design/attacks, and other characters being repulsed by her appearance and her issues with control always felt like they tied directly to her personality flaws (plus obviously we're rooting for the good guys here!), so it's satisfying to watch, rather than frustrating. Another plus is that even though Ranamon TRIES to drag Zoe into her jealous rivalry thing, Zoe is just too good for that and only responds to Ranamon in defense, which… if you’re going to do the token-girl-hero vs. token-girl-villain thing, that’s definitely not the worst way to approach it. Ranamon is just so petty, and that makes her a really fun and memorable villain. Plus without Ranamon, there is no Toucanmon fanclub. Love those little doofuses who barely have half a brain cell to rub between them!

[miraculouscontent]

(non-Miraculous asks)

Anonymous said:

Ok this may just be me but I hate deconstructions. I feel like they are always mean spirited and try to be dark and edgy and thinks that every single person is an asshole because that’s “realistic” when no it’s not. This maybe because I like superhero stories and love it when the heroes overcome their struggles.

I can agree for the most part. Whenever I hear “okay but what if it was dArK--” I’m just okay, gonna stop you right there.

Anonymous said:

I swear, nothing bothers me more than people who want Miraculous Ladybug to literally just be Yandere Simulator(with Marinette as Ayano, Alya as Info-chan, Adrien as Taro, Chloe as Osana, Lila as Kizana, Kagami as Megami, and Luka as Budo). It just grinds my gears, especially because they're, once again, framing Marinette as a stalker, which just makes her look bad, AND pits all the girls against each other for Mr. Generic Harem Protagonist, once a-fucking-gain. Just go play the actual game, ok?

All I'm hearing is that now I have to ship Ayano and Budo and write a fic where the ghost girl uses fancy fantasy magic to merge her soul with Ayano and lets her actually have emotions, healing her from being a yandere while the ghost girl (in a way) gets to live a life she was cut short of, also allowing Ayano to be happy and go onto be friends with all the rivals.

Extremely convoluted but that’s the only way we get happy endings in this house.

Anonymous said:

I remember how, when writing Sailor Moon, Naoko Takeuchi refused to bow to older male writers wanted, say, for the girls to be stereotypical manga characters, with one being overweight, one being a stereotypical nerd, etc. But Naoko wanted each of the girls to be beautiful and feminine. While I don't like that they all share a body type, I admire how she didn't listen to grown men when writing for and about young girls. And I can't help but think about how Madoka is the antithesis of all that.

I can appreciate writers who put their foot down to stick to their values. There are limits of course, but yeah, a women writing women probably shouldn’t be listening to a man’s input. I’m sure good advice exists buuut...

Anonymous said:

What is your ranking of the seasons of the year from most to least favorite and why?

Summer - I work best in the warmth

Spring - Always brings images of flowers blooming to mind

Autumn - Things are getting cold and I don’t like it

Winter - It can go choke for all I care

Anonymous asked:

Someone on TV Tropes actually said that the name Feminist Fantasy should be changed because "feminism excludes men the same way meninism excludes women" and actually had the nerve to link that to the "Not So Different" trope, as if women haven't been excluded throughout the history of almost every human society. Fortunately, someone responded to them in a way that technically amounted to "do your damn research" but I'm still facepalming so hard at TV Tropes' "what about the men" rhetoric.

I feel like I lost braincells reading this.

Anonymous asked:

I feel like in fiction written by men there are only three flaws that female protagonists are allowed to have: clumsy, boy-crazy, or ashamed of their flat chests. I hate it.

Don’t forget, “having to listen to the men for how they’re supposed to feel.”

Anonymous asked:

Jatp. Nominated. For. Seven. Emmys. SEVEN!!!! Miraculous could NEVER. Literally.

omg!! Congrats to Julie and the Phantoms!

Anonymous asked:

WHAT ARE YOUR FLASHBACKS TO EVER AFTER HIGH?? I GOTTA KNOW? OMG?

Oh, I’ve seen basically the whole series, though the one I remember most is definitely Epic Winter. It was my favorite one though Beauty and the Beast is my favorite Disney movie so I’m biased.

I also like a lot of the “twists” and just--crazy concepts they rolled with, like with Red Riding Hood’s story and how Apple White gets woken up from her slumber.

Anonymous asked:

You're gonna be happy to hear this...I just started watching Cardcaptor Sakura today, and holy shit not only do I love it, but I also love how freaking META it is! I know you said you're not all that knowledgeable about Magical Girl, but this show is AWARE that it's a Magical Girl show! From Tomoyo(the main reason this show is so meta, tbh) realizing Sakura is a Magical Girl and asking if she has a transformation pose, to designing outfits for her(more on that later) to videotaping her(aka literally making a Magical Girl anime out of her Magical Girl friend), it just has fun with itself and plays with Magical Girl tropes without making a mockery of them like all those "dark" male-aimed ones do(lookin' at you, Madoka Magica and Yuki Yuna!).

And not only is it hilarious and adorable(especially with Sakura's crush on Yukito, Tomoyo's crush on Sakura, and Touya picking on Sakura, but playfully), but I love how it's riddled with girl power. While watching some of the first episodes I was looking forward to seeing Syaoran(partly because I love male Tsunderes and partly because I can't pronounce his name), and was surprised that he wasn't in the first few episodes, but more importantly I was so happy to see a show that treats its female characters with respect and shows women unironically receiving support from other women and being shown possessing power and authority.

I love Sakura and Tomoyo's friendship even if I hate the trope of "Lesbian Never Gets The Girl"(not that I think she's entitled to Sakura's affections or anything, but still.) and watching her support Sakura in her magic endeavors without being jealous or vindictive, I love that they're allowed to be independent and smart but that the show doesn't forget that they're kids, instead of making them like Manon and Chris, and I love that the show passes the Bechdel test in pretty much the first or second episode, and that pretty much every important and unimportant character we meet that's not Sakura's family members, Kero, or Yukito(plus maaaayyybe the Shadow Clow Card) are female.

Even little things, like all FOUR of Tomoyo's bodyguards in the second episode being female without there being a "reason" or the show making a big deal of it(either in a "yay girl power!" way or a "what but women can't x" way or an objectifying way) fills me with insurmountable joy. Also, I love that the show follows the Magical Girl trend of pretty much admitting that femininity is power, since frilly dresses are stated to be the most "fitting" thing for a Cardcaptor to wear, as without it, they might not be mentally up to the task, and this is an unironic truth rather than a joke(although Sakura is shown to be embarrassed, but it's much more likely that she's simply not used to that kind of gear due to not being rich as Tomoyo is.) or a gag.

I just thought I should tell you this because I know you like Cardcaptor Sakura, and with the crappy episodes that just came out of this show, I think you deserve to read an ask that's about a GENUINE girl power Magical Girl show, instead of yet more Miraculous Ladybug salt or Madoka Magica hate(not that there's anything wrong with either of those two, but it just gets grating after a while.). Overall, I'm looking forward to watching this show, since I've been looking for a Magical Girl show to watch nowadays(I've been meaning to watch Star Twinkle Precure but I can't find the third episode and all of Cardcaptor Sakura is on YouTube now, so.). So excited!

Hey, I’m glad that you’re having fun with it!

Though, just a warning, you might wanna steer clear of the Clear Card arc. It’s a sequel to the original series made waaaay after the original (think the equivalent of Yashahime for Inuyasha, though continuing with the original characters) but omg I hated it.

Anonymous asked:

With the crappy Season 4 episodes that just came out I'm glad I got into Cardcaptor Sakura when I did. Who needs "Marinette needs to make a mistake every episode and learn something from it" when you can have genuine girl power and sweetness incarnate?

Alya could never compete with Tomoyo, I’m just sayin’.

Anonymous asked:

Your comment about white men feeling "disenfranchised" because more shows are about black people and/or women(I say and/or because the two aren't mutually exclusive.), as if there aren't a million other things they could be watching instead is so true! It reminds me of how I was talking to someone recently about the new generation of MLP, in which I stated that we didn't need a male mane pony(spoiler alert: they have one, sadly.), and he claimed that it would be beneficial since many shows aimed at boys at least try to include at least one main girl, and that it would be good for G5 of MLP to have at least one strong male lead so that boys could have a role model and know that the show isn't "girly".

Okay, so far, so good, but this I could chalk up to just unconscious internalized misogyny, especially since he didn't say it in any sort of "way". So I respectfully told him that the scale regarding representation is already not equal and that boys can look up to girls and that a show being girly is not a bad thing and all that stuff that you already know about. Then he responded claiming some stuff about how he keeps trying to pitch stories about straight white male characters and how nobody is accepting his offers and so this means that straight white men are underrepresented compared to everyone else. He even explicitly said, and I quote "White people are actually critically underrepresented in media right now. Especially boys."; I swear to the Goddess above.

At this point I was officially upset as a black girl, to hear this white(and presumably adult) man telling me that he was underrepresented in media compared to me, even saying that the media execs are practicing "quotas and tokenization"(and yes, he repeatedly used those terms for any instance of representation, even when I asked him politely to stop.) by replacing women with men or white people with pocs and are making white men look like incompetent doofuses.

He also kept saying stuff about how shows are always shoehorning people of color in where they don't belong by casting them in settings such as Shakespeare and medieval times when "realistically" there were no people of color during those time periods(which is obviously not true, it's just not what the history books show us.), and made a really insensitive comment about how black children in the USA today don't know the significance of having the first black president because the media supposedly already shows them black people in various professions(despite also claiming he couldn't speak to the "black experience" and yet here he is whitesplaining that shit.).

It got to the point where he was seriously and unironically using the word "blackwashing". When I pointed out to him that white men aren't underrepresented and that it's just his self-centered ego telling him that they are, that the word "blackwashing" isn't a thing, and that mis/underrepresentation in media DOES affect black kids negatively(even citing myself as an example) he went on to claim that I was being tone-deaf and that "blackwashing" is just as bad as whitewashing, and that making Ariel black is just as bad as making Jasmine white.

At this point I had to bang my head on the table and explain to him the difference; his ass still wouldn't get it. Eventually he started saying some really skeevy and hypocritical shite that white men say all the time when whining about how "oppressed and underrepresented" they are: that black people and/or women

(it looks like there might be an ask missing here, in which case, sorry if Tubmlr ate it!)

avor of supporting the commonly believed LIE that "women and/or minority groups don't have as much history worth learning about, so there's no point in focusing on them." He also kept using patronizing, condescending, mansplaining language such as "let me explain it to you" or "you still don't get it do you?", and when he said women had nothing to contribute to society because "oppression" he even had the nerve to tack on "welcome to the unequal society" as if I hadn't been lecturing him about just that.

Because obviously only white men did anything worthwhile or important in history. At this point, I had to block him. I couldn't take it anymore and this was on an MLP site of all places(although I'm probably just as guilty of that part, but at least I wasn't an ass!). I just can't stand white men who "want to be oppressed so bad" but still want to claim that their achievements are more important and deserve to be more prominent. Honestly, so many white men are so fragile the second they're not in the spotlight. I can't help but think that despite all the privilege afforded to their class being a white man sounds like the worst thing ever.

“he claimed that it would be beneficial since many shows aimed at boys at least try to include at least one main girl, and that it would be good for G5 of MLP to have at least one strong male lead so that boys could have a role model and know that the show isn't "girly". “

I might be looking too deep into that but I don’t like the idea of, “Well WE squeezed in a girl and therefore YOUR SHOWS--” like it’s some sort of matter of “fairness” or that boys’ shows aren’t putting in girls out of a genuine like for them but because they “need” one or it’s some sort of obligation.

Also, we need to stop this idea that boys can’t look up to female characters and vice versa for girls. You already said it but yeah.

And yeah, I hear "quotas and tokenization" and I officially tune out of whatever the person is saying, lol. White men are critically underrepresented???? Newsflash, maybe it’s just because others are being represented more??

Just the whole thing about whites being “underrepresented” boggles my mind. White people don’t have some sort of special ability or skill that other races can’t do themselves unless you count the “superpower” of white privilege.

Like, oh my god, all that “whitesplaining” and having to read the word “blackwashing” was physically painful. I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. I don’t know how they got hold of the technology to communicate with you from whatever time period their from, presumably the Stone Age.

Don’t even blame you for blocking them. There’s just a level of absolute... blindness? Arrogance??? That comes with the territory with them sometimes, I swear. You had every right to be upset; other races come to ask for equality and fair representation and suddenly you have these white men (not all obviously but damn) coming by and crying that they’re being oPpReSsEd. U_U

Like, honestly, my father in particular is absolutely that kind of person so I’ve heard that kind of stuff before. it’s all gross.

On a slightly unrelated note (trying to end this with some positivity), I hadn’t even heard about a fifth generation of MLP until I read this, and just wanted to let you know that I really hope you have a really good time with it! Hopefully the male character isn’t... well, you know.

[lastsonlost]

Many of the women promoting the “cancellation” of men in comics, and demanding they post the recent empty promise known as #ComicsPledge, are in fact hypocrites.  In this article, I’m going to present evidence of lies, collusion, rumor spreading, and, in my opinion, defamation and contract interference.

I personally know that they’ve colluded for YEARS to take down men. Specifically those with conservative politics and philosophies. This is an ongoing, coordinated effort. How do I know this?

Because I obtained access to their PRIVATE FACEBOOK GROUP.

This is Part 1 of the #Hypocralypse leaks

There is simply too much to put in one leak, so I will make the following three points for now.

1. The so-called Comic Book Whisper Network, which has been dismissed as conspiracy since 2016, is real, and I have hundreds of screenshots to prove it.

2. The Whisper Network has been targeting men and trying to destroy their careers, and use their connections in the comic book media to do so.

 3. Whisper Network members have acted unprofessionally and unethically at best. At worst, they have engaged in what I believe could be illegal behavior.

MY STORY

I first heard about the Whisper Network back in mid-2016 from folks I knew at Image, DC, Marvel, and later, Valiant.  Depending on who I chatted with, sometimes the group was called ‘The Women’s Network’, other times ‘The Whisper Network’, occasionally ‘The Whisper Campaign’, and eventually there were more conspiratorial names used mockingly (a friend called them a gender-swapped 4Chan, which became ‘FemChan’ to some insiders).

Regardless of the name, it was all the same group.

The same five or six names kept popping up in conversation over and again. As time ticked on, I noticed a trend on Social Media: half a decade of rumors, false allegations, cancellation attempts , and they almost always traced back to these same five or six people.  The goal of this Whisper Network, according to industry folks, was simple: choose a target, smear them until they lose their reputation, their income, and are ultimately blacklisted – opening up job opportunities for the same people who started these smear campaigns in the first place.

 Behind the scenes these “cancellations” are painted as morally or politically motivated, but in the end it’s all financial. As time passed, the group in question seemed more and more like a reality. I saw their influence. I saw things I knew to be verifiably untrue go viral online, appearing in what I thought were legit news sources. I felt angry and helpless seeing innocent people getting attacked, but did not know what to do. 

A few years passed and by 2018 almost everyone I interacted with in the industry seemed to know about the Network, from top level editors right down to the letterers. It was an open secret, but no one was willing to speak up for fear of being targeted themselves. They knew the consequences.

And after all, this was a secret network. Without proof, there was no point in going public because members would just deny its existence, and use their media connections to smear anyone who challenged them.

 THEN THINGS GOT INTERESTING

December 16, 2018, Whisper Network member Gail Simone, who joined the Network 6 years ago (4 years before the following tweet was posted), mocks “doofuses” who speculate that a “whisper campaign” exists.

At this point in late 2018, I was still skeptical of the Whisper Network’s existence. I’d heard many stories of individuals spreading rumors and lies, and plenty of malicious behavior was going on behind closed doors. Though I wasn’t ready to believe it was a coordinated effort, or collusion was involved.  Then, certain people began openly mentioning the Whisper Network and my attitude changed.

 March 26, 2019, Heather Antos, a member herself, did not outright mention the Whisper Network or her involvement, but she made what some took as a veiled threat to those who got on her bad side.

 Heather “milkshake girl” Antos’ colorful backstory at Marvel, and later at Valiant, is notorious in the comic industry. A conversation about office rumor-spreading and bullying is never complete without someone bringing up a juicy Antos anecdote. Everyone has one.

Up until then, I still hadn’t seen ACTUAL PROOF of a larger scheme. But then, something changed in 2020.

January 8, 2020, Alex de Campi, who I would discover is one of the most active Whisper Network members, openly admits there is a Network. I have no idea if this was a slip or a brazen attempt to show off her power and influence, but this appeared.

Eventually, everything I had heard and read was confirmed beyond any shadow of a doubt after I gained access to their private Facebook group.

I WAS INSIDE THE WHISPER NETWORK!

This is the place where the Whispher Network has been colluding for years. And although their activity is not confined to just this site, from what I can tell, this was where they first met, and started their coordinated campaigns.

Members of the Secret Group called “Comic Book Women”

At present time, there are 440+ members of the secret Facebook group, called COMIC BOOK WOMEN. From what I can tell, a few are regular users, though many of them have never posted.

https://www.facebook.com/groups/comicbookwomen/ 

*unless you are a member, this will not show up in a search

Secret Facebook groups offer the same level of privacy as closed groups, but operate under a cloak of invisibility. No one can search for secret groups or even request to join them. The only way to get in one is to know someone who can invite you. Everything shared in a secret group is visible only to its members.

This secret group includes a list of members whose actions and connections speak for themselves. Members such as:

Zoe Quinn

Gail Simone

Alex de Campi

Heather Antos (aka Heather Marie)

Mags Visaggio (aka Magdalene Francis)

Mairghread Scott

And several key members of the group are women who work in the comics media and can be used to run damage control, including women like Heidi MacDonald of Comics Beat.  They have contacts outside of the secret network as well, with some male allies in both comics and the media.

Just the fact that all of these folks were secretly linked in a private network came as a shock to me, considering their reputations and the accusations that they’ve made. Immediately I began to connect the dots…

They’ve denied for YEARS that they coordinate their actions in private. And yet they always coincidentally appear on Twitter, retweeting and amplifying each other’s accusations, signal boosting one another, and helping them gain traction. And their allies in media – Bleeding Cool and CBR specifically – will turn those same tweets into stories almost instantly & with no fact-checking or verification, sometimes within the hour.

I’m going to start explaining who the key actors are, and, from my perspective, how they coordinate these attacks.

KEY ACTORS

There are too many people to focus on at once, so I will have to break this into several posts, but I will start with one of the clear group leaders IMO.

Alex de Campi is well connected, despite never being part of the Big Two (since, from what I’ve been told management is well aware of her bullying, harassment, rumor-spreading and unethical behavior that goes back years, and depending on who you talk to she’s almost as notorious as Antos or Tess Fowler).  She just wrapped up a graphic novel campaign on Kickstarter with David Bowie’s son, the Hollywood film director Duncan Jones. It grossed over $366K

All the while she makes baseless accusations while demanding transparency from everyone else.

Now, I’ll take you into their private network.

Two years ago, on May 13, 2018, De Campi launched a private campaign to target an independent creator, claiming she was using her connections to have Simon & Schuster cancel their book.

In addition to contacting the publisher, others in the Whisper Network coordinated their efforts to contact media outlets to have the narrative changed, according to the posts in this thread.  Again, in my opinion, this could end up as a defamation or tortious interference case, and has many implications regarding media bias as well.

 

The following month, on June 23, 2018, de Campi posted private text messages between herself and writer Max Bemis in what appeared to be an attempt to damage his career. Despite Bemis being mentally ill (diagnosed with bipolar disorder in 2014), de Campi still posted the private messages with malicious intent IMO. According to US and UK law this is an actionable offense: posting private texts without both parties consenting.

[ecoamerica]

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!