#So I've actually been thinking about this for a while

[seungisms]

( skz headcannons ) his favourite place to kiss you .ᐟ

🖇️📂 where the skz boys like to kiss you

genre: fluff (for a change lol), warnings: none, just skz being down horrendously bad, note: we’re actually not gonna talk about my moment of weakness with jisung okay 😦 this is kinda ass but i've been too busy eating up all the rafe cameron fics that are out there oops

방찬. BANG CHAN

chan kisses you so much. doesn’t really have a favourite spot but if you asked him he’d probably say your face. you’re just so pretty to him and sometimes he gets such a bad case of cuteness aggression at the worst of times, acting like if he doesn’t kiss you right then and there he’ll die. has no problem embarrassing you in public, pinching your cheeks and kissing every inch of your face, chuckling at how flustered you get when he finally lets you go. particularly likes leaving kisses at the corner of your lips, just to tease you a little and watch you chase after his lips with your cute little whines he loves so much. he’s so down bad though and can’t deny you for long, cutting your little tantrum short and lovingly showering your face with his kisses before leaving a lasting one on your lips, smiling like an idiot the whole time. 

리노. LEE MINHO

not really great with his words or actions. minho is not a big fan of kissing you in public either, or any pda for that matter, but he’s fond of forehead kisses. does it when no one else is looking, pretending like he’s engrossed in the conversation happening around you both before he’s pulling you close to his side, casually leaving a comforting kiss to the top of your head. smiling down at you softly when you pull away to look up at him in surprise cause who is this man and what did he do with your pda hating boyfriend? flips tf out if any of the boys catch and tease you both. likes leaving a small kiss to your forehead when he’s on his way out the door to work, so much so that it becomes part of his daily routine so if he somehow forgets one morning he’ll be kicking himself the whole day, making sure that forehead of yours and every other part of your cute face is well thoroughly kissed by him once he gets home. 

창빈. SEO CHANGBIN

a cheek kisser through and through. loves doing that annoying shit where he pinches your cheeks so had they start turning red, talking to you in his over the top baby voice cause!! you’re just too cute!! just like chan he doesn’t give a shit who’s around you, nothing and no one is gonna stop him from loving on his baby. he does it mostly cause you hate it but he also loves the way you can’t seem to meet his eyes after his showered your cheeks in his little pecks, might even get cheeky with it and give you a little nip with his teeth between his messy kisses. also a big fan of tummy kisses. he’s a big cuddlier, and he’s especially clingy after a long day of practice, flopping down beside you on your bed and nuzzling his face against the nook of your tummy where your tank top has ridden up. looks up at your through sleepy eyes and leaves small kisses against your stomach as you talk him through your day, fingers untangling the knots twisted in his hair. he’s just so in love with moments like this. can’t help himself from randomly blowing raspberries on your tummy and laughing loudly when you try to push his head away, claiming through giggles that it tickles. 

현진. HWANG HYUNJIN

hyunjin loves playing with your hands randomly. twiddling your fingers while listening to you talk, rubbing small circles with his thumb on the back of your hands, tracing the small lines on your palm with his forefinger - he just thinks they’re so pretty. so it’s no surprise when he starts leaving small, absentminded kisses against them any chance he gets. kisses each tip of your fingers when he’s feeling overly affectionate, leading his lips up your wrist, to your arm, shoulder and neck before leaving a heavy one on your lips, smiling into the kiss when he melt against him and shyly kiss back, lips fitting perfectly against his own. likes waking you up with his kisses too, having you tucked into his side and looking so peaceful while you sleep - only to be slowly awoken to your boy sleepily smiling down at you after he nuzzles his nose against your neck, breathing in your sweet scent and kissing the moles that prettily litter the skin. 

한. HAN JISUNG

lips!! he’ll genuinely do anything to kiss you. doesn’t matter if he starts off by kissing your neck, or forehead or cheeks - he’ll eventually find his way back to your lips one way or another. can’t take his eyes off them when you’re talking, shamelessly staring you out and all he hears is “blah blah blah. proper name. place name. backstory stuff.” running through his head. always seems out of the blue when he kisses you mid conversation but really it’s all he’s been thinking about the entire time. loves teasing you. might even resort to tricking you just so you’ll grace him with your sweet lips. holds stuff high above your head and annoyingly taps on his lips, saying you have to kiss him or else he won’t give it back. and you hate the satisfied grin on his pretty face when you finally give in. jisung can’t help himself from getting carried away, most of the time he really does have the most innocent of intentions when he leans in to give you a sweet, short peck - but he’s just so addicted to you and the taste of your cheery lipgloss that he can’t help but keep you in place when you try to pull away, deepening the kiss and trapping you in a full on makeout session, doesn’t matter where tf you are this man need his fix!! and his fix just so happens to be your kisses!! smiles and giggles against your lips everytime you let him kiss you too 🥺

필릭스. LEE FELIX 

out of the blue likes kissing your nose. he thinks its too cute how flustered you get when he nuzzles your nose with his own after pulling away from your lips, pressing a small kiss to the tip after and giggling softly when you hide your flushed face in the crook of his neck, half-heartedly punching his chest out of embarrassment. honestly, felix likes to kiss you wherever you’ll let him, he’s super affectionate so he’ll take anything he can get. on his off days he likes taking his time with you and won’t let you leave his hold until every inch of your pretty skin has been thoroughly worshipped by his lips, whispering sweet words as he guides his kisses over your face. especiallylikes kissing your eyelids too, especially  likes leaving fluttery kisses to your eyelids when you’re still sound asleep wrapped up in his comforter, reluctantly forcing your eyes to open just to see his sweet face grinning down at you. he loves kissing you wherever he can - he’s just particularly fond of the shy look that takes over your face when he kisses your nose, and the way your scrunch it up cutely in surprise. 

승민. KIM SEUNGMIN

loves leaving fluttery, barely there kisses to your neck, particularly a big fan of playfully blowing just behind your ear just to hear the sweet sound of your sweet laughter as you struggle and wriggle in his hold from the ticklish feeling. also not fond of pda but he’ll have you sit on his lap if you’re in a big enough group, fingers tracing small hearts on your thigh and casually pressing his lips to the side of your neck everytime he gets bored of what’s happening around him - just to feel you melt in his hold and hear the pretty gasp you let out when his kiss catches you off guard. also loves kissing your moles/freckles wherever they’re dotted on your skin. if they’re on your arms, your lower back, under your eye, on the inside of your thighs - doesn’t matter, his lips find their way to them. truly a believer in the whole ‘where your moles are placed is the spot where your lover from your past life kissed you’ and he’s determined to make sure you’re covered in them in your next life. 

아이엔. YANG JEONGIN

jeongin is still so shy with showing affection. doesn’t matter how long you’ve been dating the boy, your kisses never fail to turn him into a flustered mess. sometimes he gets so embarrassed when his hyungs tease him so he’ll nuzzle his face in the crook of your neck, muttering something about how annoying they are but all you can focus on is the soft press of his lips against the underside your ear, so comforting and soft and barely there you almost missed it. he can be particularly playful with his kisses though, likes annoying you right when you just wake up, holding you firmly by your jaw so you can’t wriggle your way out of his strong hold and showering you in his lips, making obnoxious ‘mwah!’ sounds with every kiss he places on your face. and when you try to push him away in-between fits of giggles he’ll just resort to kissing you even more. his favourite spot to kiss you changes fortnightly so he’ll have a different answer everytime you ask. you’re just too prefect to him!!

© seungisms - all rights reserved. reposting/modification of any kind is not tolerated. 

[poolseason]

[NINJAGELION AU]

i've had this Ninjago x Evangelion/Mecha crossover au brewing in my head for years now, felt like revisiting it

Long post under the cut: Backstories, design notes and character lore

Mechs:

Unit-01 (WIP) : Lloyd's mech, supposed to resemble an Oni. It's primarily a dark purple with glowing green panels and orange accents, with 2 horn like antannae. It's 4 eyes are actually an LCD display. Unit-01's color scheme the same as from the source material, bc purple green and gold are plot relevant colors for Lloyd specifically. The weapons this unit uses are short-swords, plasma blasters, and it's bare fists(lol). This mech is prone to going berserk a lot, possibly due to it's pilot's mental instability.

(In NGE, the mech's are possessed by a spirit of their parents or loved ones, I'm indecisive on if Garmadon is the ghost in Lloyd's mech or Misako. Last time I was thinking about this au, Misako was possessing it, but i'm sort of leaning towards Garmadon again. idk idk.....)

Unit-02 (WIP): Built to resemble a samurai with dragon like elements that glow red. This mech is built for but land and undersea combat, making it the most versatile machine on the force. It's equipped with a retractable sword and an acid blaster. It's possessed by a former scientist named Nyad.

Pilots (and Cole):

Cole is a captain, (looking to be promoted to major) and is the head of the New Ninjago City base's combat division. He sort of a silly dude and while he takes his job really seriously, he's also prone to unprofessionalism. He personally oversees the pilots training and coaches them during fights. When Commander Garmadon and Assistant Head Wu refuse to take Lloyd in when he arrives at NNC, Cole decides to take the kid in himself and be the parental figure he doesn't have. Cole's got a complicated relationship with his own family, especially after his mother died saving him the Second Impact 20 years ago, now he vows to destroy all the darkness monsters that are invading.

Zane is sort of a mysterious guy. He's an artifical lifeform created specifically to pilot any mech but he usually fights in the prototype, Unit-00. Unit-01 doesn't seem to like him, and never responds to him. His suit is mostly grayscale, white armor, and light blue accents. His neural interface comes with a visor to help him see better. His primary relationships are Cole, Dr Pixal Borg, who is his personal doctor and (almost) confidant, Wu, who he has a father-son esque relationship with, and Lloyd his first true friend. He doesn't see much value in himself because he can always be replaced with a different copy, but his time with his friends starts to teach him otherwise

Nya and her supervising officer Kai are from Ignacia and joined the NINJA-go battle mech program through their connection with their parents, who were officers of the organization. But after a terrible accident following the Second Impact, they were left orphaned. Kai was too old to qualify as a pilot, but Nya was the perfect candidate. She began training at age 13, and became the strongest fighter on the force. Now at nineteen, the darkness monsters are now attacking and she (and her brother) are transferred to the New Ninjago City base, which seems to be the epicenter of the attacks, and now the the former solo-flyer has to learn to be a part of a team. She's a bit arrogant and prickly and a kindhearted friend to the other pilots, and she's got a bit of a crush on Junior Technician Jay Walker. Nya's suit design is definitely the most personalized primarily blue with grey, and darker blue and red accents with white armor, actually she ended looking a little like D.Va lol.

Lloyd, is the youngest pilot on the team now, but he's still a minor so he has to deal with the joys of school alongside his new life as a mech fighter. Having been unexpectedly summoned to Ninjago City by his estranged Uncle Wu and pressured into fighting the invading monster, Lloyd is apprehensive about his new double life, but this responsibility bestowed on him now means he now has friends and people who care about him, a far cry from the abusive boarding school he was abandoned at. Lloyd's a moody kid, with some anger issues and unresolved trauma at something terrible he witnessed when he was a young child, but he's also an empathetic kid who's willing to help everyone he meets. Lloyd has a sibling like rivalry with Nya, big brother(teetering on fatherly) relationship with Cole and Kai, a crush on the girl from school who punched him Akita, and really strained relationship with his parents and uncle. Beyond that he has a friendship with his mysterious colleague Zane that he doesn't really understand. Lloyd's suit is the most simple of the pilot suits, mostly green with white armor and gold accents. He didn't really think too much about it, other than asking Jay to make it green. His neural interface is also pretty simple, since he has an bizarrely high natural sync rate with his mech, which resemble little horns.

MISC Lore:

The second impact was an event where humanity fucked around and found out on the Dark Island and and entity called the Overlord awakened from hibernation, causing a near apocalypse that left Ninjago in an eternal heatwave. 20 years later these dragon-like monsters have started attacking trying to get to something being held deep below Ninjago City (source dragon? FSM as a dragon? firstbourne?? some kind of Dragon is under the base)

Zane promised Lloyd that he'll bring snowy winters back for him, and even though Lloyd thinks that was a rare moment of cheesiness from his friend, little did he know that Zane was going to cause an Ice Age during the climax.

Only people born after the second impact are viable candidates to pilot the NINJA mechs. When Kai learned of this he was furious that he couldn't be the one to avenge his family, and had to watch his sister fight and train instead. But in spite of his anger he made it a personal mission to get power in the organization and uncover the conspiracy behind the Second Impact and the attacking monsters.

Unit-00 is a prototype mech and isn't equipped for most combat scenarios, so Zane is primarily a long-range fighter and sniper. Zane might be replaceable to the force but Unit-00 isn't. Unit-00 was originally designed by Dr. Julien, but the man went mad and under mysterious circumstances, he was found dead inside it's entry plug alongside Zane's original iteration, Echo. After that incident, testing began on it, the original test pilot was a 24 year old, Morro, who was personally recruited by Wu, but the synchronization failed and disaster struck again, ending with Unit-00 going berserk, and another casualty. A similar incident happened with Zane, and later Lloyd, though they survive. Wu just needs to learn that Unit-00 really hates new pilots, and Zane is the only successful pilot for it.

Unit-01 is also a very testy machine, it only likes Lloyd, and goes berserk if it feels that Lloyd is in danger. Otherwise it doesn't respond to anyone else.

Cole and Kai might have hooked up in grad school, no one really knows for certain.

Pixal is the second Borg to join the organization, her father Cyrus Borg was one of the original researchers, and the person who designed the Geofront system that allowed the inhabited buildings in New Ninjago City to safely go underground and become a fortress on the surface. Pixal is more interested in the actual NINJA mechs and combat division research more than the civilian safety r&d, and she becomes the Head Scientist by the time the story begins.

Pixal the second in command to Cole, and her assistant is 23 year old genius Jay Walker, fresh out of an engineering degree and landed himself in the most insane secret government organization. Skylor and Dareth are the two other lead technicians. But Dareth's not too amazing at his job, admittedly.

The NINJA mechs aren't just machines,, they're enormous building sized cyborgs, and are actually alive creatures being held under armor. Unit-00 and 02 are cloned only from the dragon held under the Ninjago City base, but Unit-01 is cloned from the Overlord and the Dragon, making it a hybrid.

Throughout the story Cole and Kai begin to uncover a conspiracy orchestrated by the Commander and (reluctant accomplice Wu) and a mysterious council, with plans to destroy to world and rewrite reality, and for some reason Zane and Lloyd are at the center of it.

[bitters-n-sweets]

take a break — michael "robby" robinavitch x fem!reader Robby is finally on vacation in Bali. He can't quite turn off the part of him that stays alert, but then he meets someone who somehow silences all the noise.

warnings: angst. smut 18+,  minors go away. this feels very romantic to me. i loved writing this. i never intended to include smut in this actually, i find it challenging, but it felt like a great addition to the story. pls be nice :") [p in v sex, no protection—don't do this kids, oral!fem receiving, fingering, swearing] not proofread. 4.4K words -- i think this is also the longest fic I've written so far masterlist

It just finished raining, and the air feels sticky with heat and flowers. Robby's on his third day of vacation in Bali, and he's yet to do anything on this island they call paradise. No tours, no yoga by the beach, not even a swim.

It's beautiful here—almost painfully—but he keeps checking his phone like someone might page him. Old habits. No one’s paging him. Time zones are a buffer, and besides, he’s on the other side of the world. What could he possibly do?

He’s halfway through drinking from his coconut, perched on a wooden lounge chair by the beach, when he hears a voice beside him, amused and warm.

"You look like you’re trying to solve a math problem with your drink."

He looks up. You’re barefoot, sun-kissed, wearing loose cotton pants and a tank top, your hair a little wild from the humidity.

Robby blinks. "Is it that obvious?"

You motion to the seemingly permanent frown on his face.

Robby's seen you around the resort before. Always by yourself, with two books in one hand and a drink in the other. He thought about saying something multiple times, but always chickened out. Something about you felt... unapproachable. Not in an intimidating way, more in a you’re living fully and I’m not sure how to do that so I don't want to possibly ruin it for you way.

Now you both sit in silence, while Robby continues to check his phone again and sighs. That's when you hand him your book. "Here."

He blinks down at the cover. A Man Called Ove.

"One of my favorites. You should read it." You say, "Better than constantly checking your phone and regretting it a second later."

Robby snorts. You have a point.

"You lend books to strangers a lot?"

"If they look like they've been through some rough shit, yes."

That startles a laugh out of him—genuine, low, a little rusty. "I’m Michael. Robinavitch. You can call me Robby."

You offer your name in return, then nod toward the book. "Give it a chance. Let me know what you think."

"What makes you think I'll give your book back?"

You smile, stepping toward the path back to the resort. "I've seen you around the resort. And if you don't, I'll hunt you down."

You're feeling particularly exhausted today. One, because you just went out surfing for the entire day yesterday, but also because today, you were supposed to be walking down the aisle with the most beautiful dress, about to marry the love of your life. Instead, you're in a hotel room halfway across the world, alone, and feeling like shit.

Well, you suppose the day wasn't half bad. You finally managed to talk to the broody, quietly handsome guy who looks like he’s seen too much and somehow still comes off calm and steady. A smile tugs at your lips. He’s more charming than you expected.

Bali was not a place you thought you'd visit alone. You always imagined you'd be here with your ex-fiancé, drinking and watching the sunset. So you decide it's time to take care of yourself, wear that sundress you've been saving for a special occasion, and head to the resort's bar.

You sit down at your table, putting your book down and picking up the menu, when someone clears his throat, standing next to you.

Robby.

"This seat taken?"

You try to hide your smile. "Be my guest."

He smiles and sits across from you, putting his your book down on the table. He looks good—too good. He’s traded his usual loose t-shirt for a navy polo that clings in the right places, and linen pants that make his long legs look impossibly relaxed.

"You clean up nice." You say.

"You look beautiful." Robby counters, "Can I ask what's the occasion?"

You chuckle nervously, not ready to share the sad part of your life yet. Thankfully, you're saved by the waiter coming to take your order.

"Do you drink Rosé?" Robby asks after ordering your meals. And you nod, surprised. "Great, let's open a bottle of dry Rosé." He says to the waiter.

You raise your brows once the waiter leaves. "Didn't take you for a wine guy���let alone a Rosé? You're full of surprises, Michael."

"You sound like my mother when you call me like that." He groans.

"'Michael'?"

"Yes, and she also mocks my drink choices."

You laugh. "So what's the story?"

"A friend gifted me a dry Rosé one time as a joke. I didn’t want to waste it, so I drank it. Turns out, I liked it more than I wanted to admit. But keep that between us."

You hum, "Ah, yes, can't have you ruin your naturally broody aura."

"Me? Broody?" He snorts like it's ridiculous. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You absolutely are."

With the food almost immediately devoured, you're left with wine and each other's company. The ocean hums in the distance, with the breeze prickling your skin. Robby’s gone quiet, admiring the view, the half-full glass of rosé resting loosely in his fingers.

"So, how do you like the book so far?"

He exhales, tipping his head back. "I wasn’t ready to love it. But it... got to me."

You grin. "Ove grows on you, doesn’t he?"

"Yeah," Robby murmurs. "Grumpy bastard made me feel things I wasn’t in the mood to feel."

You laugh. "That's the point. He's angry at life, but still shows up for people. Even when he doesn’t want to."

Robby nods, quiet for a second. "I think I know what that feels like."

You glance at him, surprised by the honesty. His jaw is tense, but his eyes are soft. You wonder if you should ask—but something tells you this moment is already fragile, and curiosity might crack it too soon.

Instead, you wait.

"I'm an ER doc." Robby swirls the wine in his glass absentmindedly. "Lots of chaos. Long hours. Lots of traumas, deaths… I used to think I was built for this line of work. The pressure, the adrenaline... the fixing things. And sometimes I still do. But lately…"

You don’t speak. You let him go on, because he needs to.

He takes a deep breath. "Lately I’ve been wondering if it's all catching up with me. Like—I walk around carrying everyone else's worst days, and I don’t even notice the weight until I sit still." He continues. "I’ve seen kids come in with gunshots. Mothers who collapse from exhaustion. People screaming for someone to save them, and you just have to keep moving like it doesn’t get to you. Like you’re above it. But you’re not. Not really."

Robby then takes a sharp breath. "Sorry. I'm not usually this..."

You offer him a small smile. "Broody?"

That earns a faint smile, but it doesn’t erase the weariness from his expression.

You figured it's only fair you share your story, too.

You put your wine glass down, your finger tracing the rim. "I was supposed to get married today."

That catches him off guard. His eyes widen, gently. "Oh. Today? As in—today today?"

"Yeah," You laugh under your breath, "Booked the venue and everything. Until 6 months ago, I found out he was cheating on me with one of my bridesmaids. Classic."

"Prick," Robby mutters.

"Right? So I pulled the plug on the wedding, and I've been traveling the world ever since. Running away, I guess. I was so caught up in the relationship that I think I lost part of myself." You sigh. "So now, I'm re-finding myself. Yay."

Robby chuckles. "And how's it going so far?"

You smile, "Let's just say I'm glad I'm not spending today alone."

He mirrors your smile, lifting his glass to cheer. "Me too."

"Walk with me?" you ask, gesturing toward the beach after you've finished your wine.

Robby doesn’t hesitate. "Lead the way."

You both kick off your shoes by the beach entrance and walk slowly along the shore, the water brushing your feet gently. You can feel the wine in your system now. The salty air hits your skin and lets your hair flow freely. Robby has never seen anyone more beautiful. He's glad it's dark out now, or you would've seen him blush.

You glance at him, and he’s already looking at you. Half-lidded, faintly flushed from the wine and maybe something more.

"I don’t usually let myself relax like this." He murmurs.

"And yet here you are, walking barefoot on a beach with a stranger, wine-drunk and poetic." You laugh lightly.

"Stranger?" He repeats, stepping in front of you gently, making you stop.

"No?"

"Feels like I've known you longer." He smiles lazily.

Your heart kicks up a notch, not sure what to say, so you just smile, turning to look towards the sea. The breeze has picked up, cooler now that the sun has long dipped below the horizon. You cross your arms, trying not to shiver, but the goosebumps along your arms give you away.

Without a word, Robby steps behind you. You feel his warmth before you feel the touch—his hands gently brushing your arms, then slowly wrapping around your waist. His chest is solid and steady against your back, and you let yourself lean into it, just a little.

He’s quiet, but you can hear the soft rhythm of his breathing, feel it where your shoulders meet his. The sea hums in the distance, but all you can think about is how your heart is racing—and how you can feel his breath on your skin.

"You're unlike anyone I've ever met." He says.

You chuckle and glance up at him, suddenly meeting his eyes. "That's the Rosé talking."

"Maybe," he says, almost to himself. "Or maybe I just really want to kiss you."

Your breath catches. That weightless feeling flutters in your chest, and the world seems to narrow to just the space between your mouths. He waits for your permission—doesn’t lean in right away, doesn’t push. Just watches you, his fingers still resting lightly on your waist.

So you give in. You lean up and close the space between you. It's slow, exploring new ground, like you're testing the heat between you. Robby’s lips are soft, warm, and his beard grazes your skin in the most deliciously distracting way. His hand slips around your waist, pulling you closer as he deepens the kiss, and you find your fingers brushing the edge of his jaw.

The kiss lingers on your lips even after it ends, like you don't want it to be over. Robby pulls back just enough to look at you, still hazy, still drunk on the moment. His hand is still snug at your waist, like he’s afraid to let go too quickly.

"I don’t want to overstep," he whispers, "But if I asked you to come back with me… would that be okay?"

You hesitate for a second, because something about this feels different than just a vacation fling, but you can't talk about it yet. You don't want to.

"I was hoping you’d ask," you murmur against his lips.

That earns you a smile and another short make-out session that leaves you breathless.

"Are we leaving or what?" You ask in between kisses.

He chuckles, "So impatient."

He takes your hand, lacing his fingers with yours, and you walk together barefoot, tipsy, and a little giddy from everything that’s happened tonight. The resort glows softly in the distance, lanterns swaying with the wind.

Once inside his room, you walk in slowly as if it doesn't look exactly like yours. The mood shifts. Robby closes the door behind you, and for a second, neither of you says anything. You just look at each other in the dim light, the tension from earlier about to snap.

Robby takes the first step closer to you, dragging his finger to lift your chin so he can kiss you again. And again. And again. And you sigh into his arms, hands on his broad chest.

"You can stop me any time."

"I won't."

He kisses you again, deeper this time. His hands slip around your waist, then your back, and up to where the straps of your dress rest. You can feel your heart flip when he hooks it on his finger, slowly peeling it off your shoulder, as if giving you time to push him away, but teasing at the same time.

You let the strap fall down your arm, and the other one soon follows. Robby’s gaze follows the motion like he’s watching something sacred, like he's not sure if he's allowed to want this but can't help himself anyway.

His fingers trail over your now-bare shoulder, and you shiver, goosebumps forming on your skin.

You take his hand and slowly make your way towards the bed, sitting down and placing your hands on his waist. You tug at his shirt, hinting you want it off, and he obliges, the shirt gone in one swift motion.

"You’re beautiful," He groans as he leans down to lie on top of you. "God."

You memorize the feel of him: warm skin, a strong chest under your palms, the steady rhythm of his breath stuttering slightly when your hands roam lower to reach his belt. He lets you undo it. Lets you unbutton his pants and pull them down as he peppers kisses throughout your body.

You let out a soft moan when his hand trails up your naked torso, hesitantly, ever so gently caressing your breast, teasing your nipple with his finger, while his mouth makes its way down to latch onto the other.

"Fuck, Robby." Your hand goes up to tug on his hair, earning you a lustful groan, while your other hand grabs onto his arm as an anchor.

Your head is spinning, and something is itching. You buck your hips up to meet his, and now his hand is pinning your waist down.

"You really need to work on your patience." He teases and stops kissing you.

"Can you really blame me?" You daringly take one of his hands, resting it on the slick heat between your thighs.

"Fuck." Robby closes his eyes, pressing his thumb to where he can feel your clitoris is, the sensitive bud poking out and pushing against your panties.

You throw your head back, hips bucking against his hand.

Robby slowly slips the little piece of clothing off, and you watch as his fingers smooth over your slit. He keeps his eyes on you as he lowers himself. You swallow as you anticipate what he's about to do.

"So fucking wet." He murmurs, leaving kitten licks on your clit.

You can only moan while he has his way with you. His hands are holding your thighs open for him, and you try your best to keep eye contact, but it's only making you falter faster. His eyes are dark, lustful, hungry, and you feel like you could cum just from watching him.

He gently sucks on your swollen bud, and you lose your mind when he inserts one finger. Then two. Your slick makes it easy for his fingers to move around and find your sensitive spot, he found it almost immediately, he can tell by the way your eyes roll back and how you clench around him every time.

"Robby—" You sigh with pleasure—a warning, bucking your hips again, and this time he lets you, feeling you're close to the edge. His fingers move expertly in and out of you, curling just at the right spot. Your breaths become erratic, following the pace of Robby's fingers. "Come, sweetheart." He says, almost as a command, and your body arches moments after, breath catching in your throat as waves of pleasure crash through you.

Robby doesn't immediately stop. He pumps his fingers a few more times until you're trembling away, and with a proud smirk, he pulls his fingers out, licks them to taste you—making sure you're watching—before hovering on top of you to kiss you.

You can taste yourself in his mouth, and you whimper, feeling him pressing against your cunt. You're still sensitive, but it feels like you're desperately hungry for more. More of Robby.

Robby tries to pace himself, he doesn't want to rush. He wants to cherish this, drag this out, because he doesn't want this to end. He wants to keep feeling your plush lips against his, your soft touches, your hands in his hair, your body pressed firmly against his.

"Robby," you whisper, your voice barely more than air, "I want you. Please."

And he loses all of his resolve.

Robby bites his lip as he sees your disheveled state. Lips swollen, hair a mess, hooded and hungry eyes, how can he say no to you?

He takes his boxers off, freeing his cock and letting it spring back up to his stomach. You gasp at the sight. He's gonna kill you. First with his gentleness, second with his cock, because you don't think you can handle that.

"Fuck off." You unintentionally comment.

Robby lets out a laugh. "Relax."

"Are you kidding?"

He just shakes his head and hovers over you again, but this time you push him over so he's sitting and you're on top, your sopping wet cunt sitting on his aching cock.

"Sweetheart, you're killing me." He closes his eyes and groans as you drag your hips along his length.

You decide neither of you would last any more teasing, so you take him in your hands, covered in your wetness and his precum, and push him against your folds. Your walls squeeze him as he bottoms out inside you, and you have to hold still for a while.

Robby's hands grip your waist and you're sure it'll leave marks in the morning, but you don't really care. You lift your hips slowly, leaving just the tip before slamming yourself back down, eliciting a moan from both of you.

You're set on a pace, slow, steady, allowing you to have control, but it's not enough. You groan and bury your face in Robby's neck. "Robby…"

"Hm?" He teases, like he knows what you're about to ask for.

"Please," You whisper. "I need…"

He pulls you from hiding your face, a confident smirk on his. But he decides to be merciful this time. Chuckling, he moves so you're now flat on your back again, legs tucked up and pressed onto your sides.

"Tell me if you want to stop, okay?"

You manage to let out a giggle. "Robby, don't worry—" your words are immediately cut off when he reinserts himself, the position makes it feel completely different from before. "—Holy fuck."

Robby starts slow, letting you fully adjust before feeling you clench around him, and he picks up the speed. You feel like the air is knocked out of your lungs, only able to take short breaths as Robby brutally drives into you, making you feel all of him.

You can't even moan anymore, your mouth just hangs open as you put your arms around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss you can't properly do. Strings of fuck—Robby—so deep—fuck—you feel so good are the only things you can muster as you feel your high approaching again.

You couldn't even warn him when your orgasm hits you. Your nails just dig into his shoulder as your eyes roll back, back arching as far as it could go, and walls spasming around him. He grunts, nibbling on your neck as his hips stutter, not expecting you to get so tight.

"Fuck." He moans as he spills inside you, staying still for a minute to catch his breath and make sure you're okay.

You're still panting and twitching under him, eyes still closed, but your hands draw small circles on the back of his head.

"'M gonna pull out now." He warns and you hum, moaning again when he does.

He stands up to get a towel to clean you up, "Don't go anywhere." He jokes.

You chuckle. "Don't think I can."

The room is quiet now, only the sound of the AC and the steady rhythm of your breaths can be heard. You're both tangled in the sheets, your leg draped over his, skin still warm from everything that just passed between you. Robby lies on his side, one arm wrapped around your waist, fingertips gently grazing your back in slow, absent-minded strokes. You’re tucked into his chest, your head resting in the curve of his shoulder, your fingers drawing lazy circles on his chest.

Eventually, he presses a kiss to your hair, his lips lingering there.

"You're kind of amazing," He mutters.

"Kind of?" You raise a brow.

He huffs a quiet laugh, "I’m trying not to let it go to your head."

You shift, propping your chin on his chest so you can look at him. His hair is tousled, his eyes soft, still heavy-lidded. "Too late."

He smiles and presses another kiss to your lips.

"Do you always kiss like that on vacation?" You tease.

He chuckles, "Only when I meet someone who gives me their favorite book."

"Pretty exclusive club."

"You're the only member."

You nuzzle closer into him, smiling into his chest. "I'm not gonna lie," You start, "This all feels a little surreal. I never thought I'd meet someone like you. You make all of this feel… right."

"I feel the same way." He admits, "I want to pause everything and just stay in our little bubble."

The silence stretches comfortably for a moment. And then, you get a gut-wrenching realization. "Oh. Right. You said you're only here for a week."

He nods, voice tighter, his hand still tracing along your side. "Yeah."

"So we’ve got, what… four more?"

"Mm-hm." He pulls you close to him, perhaps it's a way so you can't see his sullen expression. "Four more days in the bubble."

And it's hardly enough time.

The next few days blur in sunlight and ocean breeze, you take Robby on winding motorbike rides, wild ATV tours through the jungle, surfing lessons where you both wipe out laughing, and quiet moments snorkeling with whale sharks. You try to make as many memories as you can, all the while masking the dread of his departure. And at night, it’s always the same—his touch like a promise, your body moving with his in the dark, like you're both pretending the end isn't coming.

You both made the silent decision not to say where you’re from. Maybe if you find out he lives just hours away, it’ll make this too real. Too painful. Better to keep things suspended in this bubble, this almost-fairytale. Better to let it end on a hopeful note, instead of a practical-hurtful one.

You’ve told yourself this is just a fling. That some people come into your life for a reason, and maybe Robby was never meant to stay. Maybe he’s just a beautiful lesson in loving deeply and letting go.

You try not to cry in front of him. You want to make the goodbye easier than it feels, to shield him and yourself from the ache that's already blooming in your chest. You try to seem light, even when it’s breaking you.

It’s not easy for Robby, either. If he could, he’d offer you his world—just to wake up beside you every morning and fall asleep with you tucked against his chest. But it wouldn’t be fair. He could never ask you to upend your life for him, no matter how much he wants to.

And maybe that’s the hardest part, he wants to do this right. He wants to believe this is more than just a vacation high. But what if his reality—grueling shifts, emotional exhaustion, his work-life imbalance—ends up driving you away? There’s so much he wants to say, but maybe silence is the merciful choice.

It's the night before he leaves, and you can't say goodbye. But it’s there, hanging unspoken in the humid air between kisses, in the way you cling to each other just a little tighter. You talk quietly about nothing at all, and everything at once—movies you haven’t seen, food you miss, a joke about whale sharks that makes you both laugh a little too hard at 1AM.

At one point, while tracing lazy circles on his chest, he asks, "Should I go before you wake up?"

You don’t answer right away, but then nod. Robby can see your lips quivering slightly.

He pulls you closer to him, but neither of you falls asleep quickly. You make love again, slower this time, as if trying to memorize each other’s skin. As if trying to stretch the hours. You fall asleep tangled together, heartbeats in sync.

By the time the soft blue of dawn creeps up, Robby’s already awake. He moves quietly, getting dressed in the soft light, careful not to wake you. Before he leaves, he pauses by your bedside. You’re still curled under the covers, looking peaceful and beautiful.

He looks at you like he’s trying to remember everything.

Then he pulls something from his bag—a folded piece of paper—and tucks it gently into the book you gave him. His fingers linger on the cover for a beat too long.

He leaves without a sound.

You wake hours later to an empty room, your chest already aching before your mind catches up. You sit up slowly, the sheets cold beside you. You scan everything in your room, maybe Robby had left something behind that you could keep as a memento.

Then you see the book. You open it to find the note inside:

"You changed something in me. Thank you for letting me be yours, even just for a moment."

And that’s when you finally let yourself cry.

------

part two for a reunion (edited here) coming up! would you like to be tagged? pls leave a comment if you do ❤️

[bennetsbonnet]

Much has been made of Mr Darcy's "confession" to Elizabeth that he does not converse easily with strangers. It is repeatedly used to support neurodivergent interpretations of his character. And I suppose that when taken at face value, a character confessing that they do not easily converse with strangers and struggle to catch their tone or appear interested in conversation can absolutely scream AUTISM! (I say as an autistic person myself)

But this line is often taken in isolation. When considered in terms of the passage in which it appears in Chapter 31, it appears far less of a smoking gun than may initially be suspected. After some discussion about Elizabeth and Darcy's prior acquaintance in Hertfordshire, Colonel Fitzwilliam asks Elizabeth for information about Darcy's behaviour there. She readily supplies it:

'Pray let me hear what you have to accuse him of,' cried Colonel Fitzwilliam. 'I should like to know how he behaves among strangers.' 'You shall hear then—but prepare yourself for something very dreadful. The first time of my ever seeing him in Hertfordshire, you must know, was at a ball—and at this ball, what do you think he did? He danced only four dances, though gentlemen were scarce; and, to my certain knowledge, more than one young lady was sitting down in want of a partner. Mr Darcy, you cannot deny the fact.' 'I had not at that time the honour of knowing any lady in the assembly beyond my own party.'

What Darcy leaves out here is that it was he himself who chose not to be introduced to anybody. As we learn from the description of his behaviour at the Meryton assembly in Chapter 3:

Mr Darcy danced only once with Mrs Hurst and once with Miss Bingley, declined being introduced to any other lady, and spent the rest of the evening in walking about the room, speaking occasionally to one of his own party.

Anyway, Elizabeth correctly does not buy his excuses. Not only does she respond with a cutting sarcastic remark, but she tries to bring the discussion with an end by speaking to Colonel Fitzwilliam:

'True; and nobody can ever be introduced in a ball-room. Well, Colonel Fitzwilliam, what do I play next? My fingers wait your orders.'

But Darcy does not get the hint and continues conversing with Elizabeth rather than quitting while he's ahead. However, I don't believe him to be missing a social cue here. Rather, this is an exceedingly conceited man who cannot conceive that anyone would not want to speak to such a Superior Being as he and more-so, is determined to defend himself from a perceived slight against his impeccable character.

Then we come to the passage containing the oft-cited line which allegedly contains proof of his neurodivergency:

'Perhaps,' said Darcy, 'I should have judged better, had I sought an introduction; but I am ill-qualified to recommend myself to strangers.' 'Shall we ask your cousin the reason of this?' said Elizabeth, still addressing Colonel Fitzwilliam. 'Shall we ask him why a man of sense and education, and who has lived in the world, is ill-qualified to recommend himself to strangers?' 'I can answer your question,' said Fitzwilliam, 'without applying to him. It is because he will not give himself the trouble.'

Once again, Elizabeth does not buy his excuse for even a single second. She's fully aware of all the advantages a man such as he will have received in society (opportunities not open to women, might I add!) and draws attention to that fact. It's a brilliant, cutting line from her and she really set that one up for Colonel Fitzwilliam to deliver the knockout blow.

Not only do we have the testimony of Mr Darcy's cousin, that 'he will not give himself the trouble,' to appear cordial to strangers, but we have evidence from Wickham too. Although after this statement, Wickham quickly goes onto misrepresent Darcy's kindness to the poor, which contradicts Mrs Reynold's later testimony, I do believe Wickham to be telling the truth (for once!) here, when he tells Elizabeth in Chapter 16:

'Mr Darcy can please where he chooses. He does not want abilities. He can be a conversible companion if he thinks it worth his while.'

Which, again, demonstrates that Darcy is capable when he wants to be. That is the crucial point. Autistic people fundamentally lack the ability to understand social cues, they cannot turn it on and off as they please because they are snobs.

So, now we come to the infamous line about Darcy's supposed social struggles, and I hope that I've provided enough context to the line to make you see that it should not be taken at face value:

'I certainly have not the talent which some people possess,' said Darcy, 'of conversing easily with those I have never seen before. I cannot catch their tone of conversation, or appear interested in their concerns, as I often see done.' 'My fingers,' said Elizabeth, 'do not move over this instrument in the masterly manner which I see so many women’s do. They have not the same force or rapidity, and do not produce the same expression. But then I have always supposed it to be my own fault—because I will not take the trouble of practising. It is not that I do not believe my fingers as capable as any other woman’s of superior execution.'

Again, Elizabeth is not buying his excuses for even a single second and tells him if he feels like that, maybe he should put the effort in. She has seen him in numerous social settings and been thoroughly unimpressed with his behaviour which, when you consider his rudeness to her at the Meryton assembly, she has every right to be.

So, what do I make of the line?

Well, I think it's abundantly clear that Darcy absolutely can speak to people when he wants to. Perhaps, in his mind, he struggles to make that deeper connection and make friends easily. But making friends is not always easy, it's a process you must invest time and effort into. If you do not do that, it stands to reason that you will struggle. Plus, if you hold others to ridiculous standards (as Darcy does) without recognising and fixing the flaws within yourself, you're not going to have deep, lasting friendships.

While this quote may appear to be a moment of vulnerability where he does confess a fault of his, which is astounding given his pride, personally I do not think it was not a soul-searching exercise. It was to make Elizabeth stop grilling him. It was self-serving. Although, I don't think he's entirely lying. Darcy is veeeery careful with his words and though this statement is not considered and perhaps comes out rather abruptly, it doesn't necessarily follow that it isn't true. I can imagine that it is probably something he's felt for a while, yet it is a rather desperate attempt to defend himself from a woman who sees right through him.

I think perhaps Darcy does realise that he isn't as naturally gifted as other men he knows (such as Wickham, Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mr Bingley) when it comes to forming acquaintances. However, he looks outwards and turns that bitterness against the world rather than looking inwards, reflecting upon himself and improving his manners which would be the correct thing to do. Thankfully, he later does this, but it took him twenty eight years...

In addition, Darcy appeared to have been under the illusion that he could coast by on Pemberley's reputation... which has always worked... until he met Elizabeth. For perhaps the first time, he encounters a woman who is not awestruck by him and his reputation and delivers the rebuke that he always needed.

So, while personally I'm inclined to believe there is some truth to his statement, as Mr Darcy is many things but he isn't a liar, I think it is said in desperation. His feeling stems from him knowing what he should do, but he can't be bothered to enact it... rather than any inherent social deficiency stemming from being neurodivergent.

Although, even if he does struggle socially, it's still no excuse for the rudeness he displayed to Elizabeth! My main issue with neurodivergent readings of Darcy is when they are deployed to defend his behaviour, when they attribute his rudeness to any potential neurodivergency and when they excuse his laziness. That is an awful message! Autistic people who struggle with social cues often do not, nor should they, go around insulting others. They should and often do put plenty of effort into being considerate and polite. In fact, I think, if anything, a love of rules makes us more likely to have good manners, rather than the reverse.

Ultimately, I'm not sure this line makes Mr Darcy the sympathetic-poor-sweet-innocent-shy-boy-autistic-representation that people want him to be. In fact it makes him look even worse, if anything. On matters such as these, he is every inch the conceited proud man he was widely believed to be at the Meryton assembly. Luckily, Elizabeth is an incredibly smart woman, who doesn't fall for it and immediately calls him out on his behaviour in a way that he has never experienced before. As she should!

[sizebrained]

I'm not sure if this is *supposed* to be a pair of giant legs the way the telephone pole and line make it look.

But I love this so much I had a little story idea pop up in my head I couldn't get rid of so I had to write it down.

Also great glow up from the last version, love tofupixel's stuff.

Whoops new g/t universe... CW: None, SFW

Word Count: 2,000

*** The town siren's crying wail filled the air. Easily heard over the increasingly louder and louder wind, even all the way out here. As if the angry sky wasn't enough of a warning of what was heading their way. The cows and horses on Jane's farm knew long before the siren had confirmed it. There was a tornado coming. First one of the season. Jane hadn't wanted to grow bigger before the storms, but the animals had panicked. They kept pulling out of Jane and her mother's grips. Desperate to follow their instinct to run away from the oncoming twister.

At her normal size of exactly 5 feet tall, Jane could never have managed to get them to the barn when they were this agitated. Even with her mother and ten year old littler brother Bobby helping.

Bobby's normally annoying demeanor disappeared in these kinds of situations. He was trying very hard to actually help. But one twist of the cow's head sent the poor boy flying sideways every time.

So she focused, held her breath, and grew. When she was done, she was four times her normal size.

It had been several years since Jane had discovered that her body had this "compunction" to grow bigger. She didn't know if it was nature, or magic, or what. She could just grow bigger. A few, mostly random, townfolk knew about Jane’s compunction too but they promised to keep it secret.

When she was big, Jane provided manual labor for them sometimes that would have either been impossible or very expensive otherwise. It helped ensure their silence.

It started shortly after her father died. Also right after she began puberty, like that wasn't hard enough without this complication. At first there didn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason as to what set Jane to growing, how big she would get, or how long it would last.

For lack of a better word, the family doctor had settled on what happened to Jane as a "compunction." There was nothing in any medical text that he had come across to explain it. Other than being a danger to low ceilings and tight places, he said Jane was otherwise a pretty typical, healthy teenager.

When their family doctor made the first house call after her first growth, he found a 20 foot, very embarrassed looking girl in pigtails looking down at him in the barn. He took it rather well. "Not the strangest thing I've seen to be honest," he told Jane's mother. It always made Jane wonder just what he had seen that her being bigger than an elephant didn't register at the top of his list.

When she first started getting her compunctions, she made the animals nervous in their stables. Even though Jane had cared and fed some of them for years, most were unnerved by her newfound size.

Eventually, the animals got used to Jane's bigger version. Now, most of them didn't seem to think it was unusual to be moved around as easily as a child's favorite stuffed toy.

Jane was currently walking with two cows under her arms towards the barn like they needed to be tucked in for bedtime.

Thankfully, Jane's clothes, and anything else that happened to be touching her body at the time, grew along with her when she did. They couldn't afford to go through clothes at the rate of her body's "compunction spells" otherwise.

One time she grew while she was brushing her hair. It ended up being 10 feet long. Jane had never timed it right to be holding it again when she shrank back down. So the 10 foot brush was hidden up in the barn's haystacks till she did.

Over the past several years she had learned to control it. Somewhat.

Better at directing it was more accurate. She couldn't really control it that much or for that long. It was like tensing a muscle or holding her breath. Trying to hold her breath seemed to slow it down sometimes. But sometimes holding her breath also made her grow.

Jane's body would do what it wanted to do whether her mind agreed or not. She felt like her body betrayed her. Sometimes in more ways than just getting bigger.

And getting back down to her usual size could sometimes take days. Jane was thankful to have finally graduated high school. She got tired of coming up with new excuses for missing so much school, waiting to shrink back down to her normal five foot nothing self. Jane's eyes passed by her bedroom's second story window as she made her way to the barn with the cows. Jane's mother had taken Bobby by his hand, heading as fast as she could manage across the open field between the barn and their modest farmhouse.

They passed each other heading in opposite directions. Jane with cows and her mother with Bobby. Jane's mother yelled over her shoulder at her first born. "Jane! Get those two in the barn now! And if you're not fixing to shrink down in the next 5 minutes to fit in the shelter then you need to make sure you're nowhere near that twister!" "Yes mama. Don't worry about me, just get safe in the shelter with the ankle biter."

At this size, Jane only had to speak in her normal voice to be heard over the increasingly louder wind. Her enormous red converse sneakers were making big oblong imprints in the grass with every step. It felt like she was just going outside in a light rain storm at this size. Bobby wasn't quite small enough to be a literal ankle biter.

Jane smirked about that while walking into the barn door. She was glad she didn't have to duck to fit. Jane carried the cows in like house cats, instead of several thousand pounds of beef. She set the cows down in a big pen in the corner with the three others she had wrangled inside. Jane shushed the animals, scattering some feed like spilt table salt in her enormous fingertips. She offered more calming reassurances down at them in her deep booming voice. Jane felt an overwhelming relief that they hadn't lost any of them. While she was distracted by that fleeting thought of gratitude, like she had jinxed it, their old mare Midnight got her stable door open.

The horse made a run for it out of the barn trying to get away from the coming storm. "Midnight! No!" Jane cried and stomped out of the barn after her. Unfortunately, Bobby also saw Midnight emerge from the open barn door. And while his mother was occupied getting the shelter door open with both hands, Bobby also ran after Midnight.

He started towards Midnight in a straight line as his sister emerged out of the barn shaking the earth in pursuit. Jane glared at the boy for his recklessness. "Bobby get your scrawny ass in the basement! I'll get her!" Jane boomed across the field at her little brother.

She grew noticeably bigger while she yelled. The ten year boy old froze in place at the sound of his big sister's much bigger voice giving him orders. Their mother rushed over to Bobby dragging him, slack jawed and staring at his huge sister, back and down into the basement shelter. Jane caught up to Midnight in a few rushed steps. She slid to a stop and scooped the scared horsed up with one hand. Her kicking hooves lifted up into the air frantically searching for the ground. Jane heard the clattering of the shelter's steel door. Her mother was having a hard time getting the shelter door shut. She looked over to the horizon. The tornado was in sight and it was getting closer.

It was a big one. She felt scared.

Then Jane felt the wrong thing.

"Aw crap," she thought to herself. Jane quickly set Midnight down on the ground again. The horse whinnied but stayed put, agitated but loyal. Jane didn't need to deal with an overgrown horse trampling everything on top of what she knew was coming.

Jane looked down at her shoes. She saw the ground racing away around them while the shoes stayed put.

Jane's mother and Bobby stared up at Jane for one long moment before shutting the shelter door and locking it from the inside. Jane felt queasy as the ground swirled below. Except that wasn't what was happening. Jane was getting bigger. And bigger. Jane looked at the 50 foot telephone pole on the side of the road in front of her house on the long dirt road leading into town. At first she was looking up at it. Then she could stare at the top at eye level without having to crane her neck at all.

In a few heartbeats more, Jane was looking down at it.

And down. And down. It got smaller and smaller as she went up and up.

She could feel her feet sinking into the ground as she got heavier and heavier with every passing moment. Midnight trotted around the growing set of shoes. The horse decided the safest place was in the gap between them. She settled there while they continued to get bigger.

Jane could tell this was going to be a bad one. She closed her eyes and grimaced feeling sick to her stomach like she was on one of the state fair's carnival rides. Jane didn't notice the old blue truck rushing into her driveway. It came to an abrupt stop at an odd angle next to the telephone pole. Another girl, the same age as Jane, stepped out of the truck and looked up at the towering figure filling the sky. "JANE?!" the girl yelled up towards the black clouds where Jane’s head seemed to be going, making Jane's name into two syllables instead of one.

To the girl, it looked like Jane was trying to have a grow off with the approaching tornado. It looked like Jane was fixing to win. She'd never seen her this huge before. The girl yelled again cupping her hands around her mouth, hoping it helped. Jane heard her own name like a whisper. She ventured to open one eye and slowly tilt her head down. She didn't feel like she was going to throw up anymore. That meant it was over.

But everything was tinier than it had ever been. Much, much tinier.

That meant she was big. Really big. Jane didn't want to hazard a guess at just how big. Seeing the 50 foot telephone pole barely reach her ankle told her enough. "Uh...Hi Bets..." Jane said looking down at the ground. She saw the girl cover her ears and cower as Jane's few words shook everything.

Her normal speaking voice at this size was as loud as the town siren.

Jane was suddenly thankful there was a tornado to help cover up her compunction. Jane looked over at how much closer the tornado had gotten and sighed.

She recognized her girlfriend's parked truck. It looked like one of Bobby's toy tin cars next to her huge shoe. "What are you...nevermind...there's no time..." Jane apologized while bending down. One huge finger extended from Jane's hand and gently pushed her girlfriend back into her truck's still open driver side door. Then she pushed the car door shut as delicately as she could manage with her finger tip.

Jane picked up her girlfriend's truck between two fingers, with her safely back inside of it, and lifted it. Up and up and up. Betsy screamed, holding on for dear life inside the truck cabin.

Jane reached down with her other hand and also, very delicately, picked up Midnight with just two fingers like she was picking up a house spider to take outside. Jane turned her head to look at the tornado. Luckily, it would pass harmlessly across the field between the barn and house. She got worked up and huge for nothing.

Mom, Bobby, the animals, and all of their earthly possessions were safe.

Jane lifted the truck up to her face and gave her girlfriend Betsy an awkward smile. Jane’s freckled face filled the smaller girl's windshield like the morning sunrise. Betsy waved back, still a little frightened at seeing Jane this enormous.

Then Jane carefully, and slowly, stepped over the telephone lines and dirt road parallel to her house. The enormous 19 year old took a few steps to the side and watched the tornado pass by her.

At this vantage, she could admire just how beautiful it was and was thankful that the tornado would help cover her enormous sneaker tracks a bit. ***

look at my forever wip

[tswiftupdatess]

Taylor Swift announces in recent letter that she bought back the master recordings to her first six albums from Shamrock Capital 🥳:

''Hi.

I'm trying to gather my thoughts into something coherent, but right now my mind is just a slideshow. A flashback sequence of all the times I daydreamed about, wished for, and pined away for a chance to get to tell you this news. All the times I was thiiiiiiiiiiis close, reaching out for it, only for it to fall through. I almost stopped thinking it could ever happen, after 20 years of having the carrot dangled and then yanked away. But that's all in the past now. I've been bursting into tears of joy at random intervals ever since I found out that this is really happening. I really get to say these words:

All of the music I've ever made.. now belongs… to me.

And all my music videos. All the concert films. The album art and photography. The unreleased songs. The memories. The magic. The madnes.. Every single era. My entire life's work.

To say this is my greatest dream come true is actually being pretty redeserved about it. To my fans, you know how important this has been to me- so much so that I'm meticulously re-recorded and released 4 of my albums, calling them Taylor's Version. The passionate support you showed those albums and the success story you turned The Eras Tour into is why I was able to buy back my music. I can't thank you enough for helping to reunite me with this art that I have dedicated my life to, but have never owned until now.

All I've ever wanted was the ooportunity to work hard enough to be able to one day purchase my music outright with no strings attached, no partnership, with full autonomy. I will be forever grateful to everyone at Shamrock Capital for being the first people to ever offer this to me. Theway they've handled every interaction we've had has been honest, fair, and respectful. This was a business deal to them, but I really felt like they saw it for what it was to me: My memories and my sweat and my handwriting and my decades of dreams. I am endlessly thankful. My first tattoo might just be a huge shamrock in the middle of my forehead.

I know, I know. What about Rep TV? Full transparency: I haven't even re-recorded a guarter of it. The Reputation album was so specific to that time in my life, and I kept hitting a stopping point when I tried to remake it. All that defiance, that longing to be understood while feeling porposely misunderstood, that desperate hope, that shame-born snarl and mischief. To be perfectly honest, it's the one album in those first 6 that I thought couldn't be improved upon by redoing it. Not the music, or photos, or videos. So I kept putting it off. There will be a time (if you're into the idea) for the unreleased Vault Tracks from that album to hatch. I've already completely re-recorded my entire debut album, and I really love how it sounds now. Those 2 albums can still have their moments to re-emerge when the time is right, if that would be something you guys would be excited about. But if it happens, it won't be from a place of sadness and longing for what I wish I could have. It will just be a celebration now.

I'm extremely heartened by the conversations this saga has reignited within my industry among artists and fans. Every time a new artist tells me they negotiated to own their master recordings in their record contract because of this fight, I'm reminded of how important it was for all of this to happen. Thank you for being curious about something that used to be thought of as too industry-centric for broard discussion. You'll never know how much it means to me that you cared. Every single bit of it counted, and ended us up here.

Thanks to you and your goodwill, teamwork, and encouragement, the best things that have ever been mine… Finally actually are.

Elated and amazed, Taylor''

(On May 30, 2025)

[black-fist-order]

BREAKING: Donald Trump melts down after a reporter humiliates him on camera with the "nastiest question" by bluntly asking about the fact that he "always chickens out on tariffs."

She really went for the jugular with this one...

"Mr. President, Wall Street analysts have coined a new term called the TACO trade. They're saying Trump always chickens out on the tariff threats and that's why markets are higher this week," said a reporter. "What's your response to that?"

"I kick out?" responded the 78-year-old Trump, apparently mishearing.

"Chicken out," corrected the reporter.

"Oh... Isn't that... I chicken out. I've never heard that," said Trump.

The term "TACO trade" recently appeared in The Financial Times and stands for "Trump Always Chickens Out." The term refers to the idea that Trump will implement tariffs, the markets will start to crash, and he will then quickly backtrack and attempt to claim a win.

Trump was predictably upset by the reporter's question—

"You mean because I reduced China from 145% that I set down to a hundred and then down to another number?" he said. "I said you have to open up your whole country and because, uh..."

"I gave the European union a 50% tax, uh tariff, and they called up and they said 'Please let's meet right now. Please let's meet right now,'" Trump rambled on. "And I said 'Okay, I'll give you till July—' I actually asked them, I said 'What's the date?' Because they weren't willing to meet and after I did what I did they said 'We'll meet any time you want.' And we have an end date of July 9th."

"You call that chickening out?" Trump asked. "Because we have $14 trillion now invested, committed to investing... When Biden didn't have practically anything. Biden... This country was dying."

"You know we have the hottest country anywhere in the world? I went to Saudi Arabia," Trump went on. "The king told me. He said 'You've got the hottest—' We have the hottest country in the world right now. Six months ago this country was stone cold dead. We had a dead country. We had a country, people didn't think it was going to survive and you ask a nasty question like that?"

"Uh, it's called negotiating," he continued. "You set a number. And if you go down... You know if I set a number at a ridiculously high number and I go down a little bit, you know a little bit, they want me to hold that number. 145% tariff."

"Even I said 'Man that really got up.' You know how it got up? Because of fentanyl and many other things..." Trump said. "And you added it up. I said 'Where are we now? We're at 145%' I said 'Woo, that's high. That's high.'"

"They were doing no business whatsoever and they were having a lot of problems. We were very nice to China," he went on, clearly animated by the question. "I don't know if they're going to be nice to us but we were very nice to China. And in many ways I think we really helped China tremendously."

"Because you know they were having great difficulty because we were basically going cold turkey with China," he claimed. "We were doing no business because of the tariffs because it was so high. But I knew that. But don't ever say what you said. That's a nasty question! To me that's the nastiest question."

The truth is that Trump's tariffs have been an unalloyed disaster. They've accomplished nothing for the American people while injecting instability into the market, skyrocketing consumer prices, and causing layoffs. At the same time, they make the United States a less safe place for foreign investments and advertise the fact that America is an unreliable partner.

Trump always chickens out. For the sake of us all, let's hope he continues to do so...!

[lynnnvvn]

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

𝖢𝖺𝗇’𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗉 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 — 𝐵𝑎𝑘𝑢𝑔𝑜𝑢 𝐾𝑎𝑡𝑠𝑢𝑘𝑖 𝑥 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

✧. ┊ synopsis —  you’re caught gawking a little too hard at a certain blond

✧. ┊    NSFW content, fem!reader, cock worship, oral (f giving), inexperienced reader, dirty talk, praise, nervous & shy reader etc.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Holy fuck.

We're all currently sitting in the common room after coming back from training, and everyone is gathered, talking about the new moves they've learned. Some are in the kitchen, while others are in the living room, picking out what movie to watch.

But I can't focus as mina's muffled voice is talking to the girls about going to the mall after school tomorrow.

But all i see is him.

In his tight tank top, showing off the hard training he's put his body through, with his arms and the veins on his hands. my god — his hands have me clenching my thighs just imagining them around me, crushing me, holding my waist, or better, my neck.

My gaze travels down his body, the baggy sweatpants hang low on his waist, wondering what he's hiding under those pants, my eyes going up his body, admiring him —

omg

As soon as I get to his face, we make eye contact, and I feel my heartbeat in my ears, my breathing slowly getting faster, his eyes slowly going up and down my body, smirking, and suddenly my body feels 10x hotter. I immediately look away, looking anywhere else but at him.

holy fuck he definitely caught me no way he didn’t i’ve been silently crushing on him since our 1st year we’ve gotten close but i’d never think he’d like me like that.

especially after I've been too shy, always backing out last minute when I wanna ask him if we could go out sometime , but I want him so bad.

This is so embarrassing, I need to leave now. I quickly make an excuse to Mina, something along the lines of I need to catch up on today's homework.

As I walk past him and the guys, I can feel his gaze burning into me, but I'm imagining it, yeah, he couldn't be.

As I'm turning the corner into my room, I feel a rough hand on my bicep and hear a rough —

"Y/n."

I look back and see Bakugou with a look in his eyes that looks like he's hungry, no, starving.

I gulp loudly, oh god, he definitely caught me. I speak with a breathy tone, "Yes?"

"You didnt think you'd actually get to walk away after you just fucked me with your eyes huh?"

"w-what? No, I wasn't. I don't know what you're talking about."

"yeah? so if i shove your panties down your pussy wouldn't be wet?"

I look at him with wide eyes as I lick my lips, as I breathe more loudly, suddenly lost for words.

"Maybe"

i say under my breath, then his lips are on me, rough and fast. I try keeping up with his pace, but he's kissing me like I'm going to disappear. If he pulls away, he grabs my neck, then I'm whimpering into his mouth as my fingers are tangled in his ash blonde hair.

"Bakugou, wait — someone could see."

"dont care" he says as he goes back to devouring me with his mouth then I feel him turning the knob on my door as he pushes me inside I'm starting to feel shy I've never done more than making out but I do know I need him in my mouth.

I pull away as I see a string of saliva connecting our lips together "Katsuki please i need you in my mouth" I say, trying to catch my breath, but then I see his questioning gaze and start to freak out. I definitely just should've kept my mouth shut.

"I mean it's okay if you don't feel comfortable, we can just kiss, but it's all I could think about when I was staring at you, just look so good, but I never done this well giving someone head or sex so actually maybe n -" he cuts my rambling with a kiss as I got anxious.

"shut up you sound like that damn nerd" he says "ill teach you if you really want to and if you don't we can just stop here"

I nod as I'm afraid my voice is gonna give away how nervous I am.

"Take my pants off," he says as he goes and sits down at my reading chair as I start walking towards him, feeling nervous, if I could please him, knowing how bad I want him to feel good.

I get on my knees, feeling the carpet rub against my knees as I grab his sweatpants, pulling them down slowly while staring at him as I can see his jaw clenching and his hooded eyes filled with lust like he's holding back —restraining himself.

As his sweats pool around his feet, my eyes widen in shock as he wasn't wearing any boxers — his dick sprung up and my god, its huge and thick and pretty — is that weird to say? oh well it’s long and thick you can see the pre cum leaking from his dark pink tip as its sliding down his length as two thick veins in each side.

I'm supposed to fit that into my mouth?

As he could sense my uneasiness, he grabbed my chin and tilted my head so I could look at him. "It's okay, baby, we can take it slow and gentle, hm? That sounds good?"

I nodded with a gaze as I looked down and place tiny kisses on his tip and lick the pre cum that fell down licking a strip all the way down then back up as I gently suck his tip as soft quiet grunts slip out his mouth.

"stop teasing —fuck" he lets out a soft moan "your mouth feels hmm so warm" as I put more of him in my mouth and feel the stretch on the sides of my mouth and the burn but I'm determined to make him feel good but then I pull back and he whines at the lost of my warm mouth.

"Am I doing well?" I ask in a raspy voice as I kiss his tip once again.

"so good baby, so good at sucking my cock keep it up and I will come all over your face"

"i want you to come in my mouth please"

"fuck baby don't say that shit its gonna make finish at an embarrassing rate-- FUCK" he says with a moan in the end as I take him all in my mouth as I start bobbing my head up and down hearing our sounds bounce of the walls of my room my gags and his grunts filling my room.

I feel his hips jerking as he grabs my hair with his both hands and thrust his dick in my mouth deeper than before and could hear his breathing getting faster as I feel my panties soaked hearing him feel good because of me my hand travles down into my shorts feeling how wet I truly am gathering the wetness and I start circling my clit.

Then I feel tears streaming down my face and my gag reflex getting louder as I grip his thighs, feeling my nails scratch against his skin, traveling up, feeling his hard abs.

"fuck baby just like taking me so deep down your throat-- hmph ohhh fuckkkk" he drawls out the last word as I dip two fingers inside of me curling them into my sweet spot moaning around his cock I could hear and feel him getting closer I start rubbing his balls with my other hand.

suddendly hes whimpering knowing hes close and I took my fingers out and start rubbing my clit faster "fuck fuck fuck im coming im com — ohhh yeahhh swallow it all just like that baby" feeling his warm salty cum go down my throat as he's coming back down from his high he pulls away.

"Let me see, open up baby, wanna see if you swallowed it all." I open my mouth to show him that I did, then I feel my high coming as I grab his thighs, then I feel my eyes roll back as I come with his name on my tongue "Katsuki!" I say as I feel my body convulse.

We were both breathing heavily, then I felt him pick me up and put me on his lap, and kissed the air out of me.

"so, how does a date this Friday sound?" he says after pulling away, and I just giggle and say yes, happier than ever

should've stared wayyy sooner.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

𝒈𝒖𝒍𝒑 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒐 𝒃𝒂𝒅 𝒐��𝒈 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒊’𝒍𝒍 𝒌𝒆𝒆𝒑 𝒑𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒕’𝒔 𝒅𝒆𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒚 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒂𝒔 𝒈𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒂𝒔 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒑𝒆𝒐𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒔 𝒇𝒊𝒄𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆, 𝒔𝒐 𝒔𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝒊𝒇 𝒊𝒕’𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒔𝒕💔

𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒓𝒆𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒉𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒍𝒚 𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅

𝒎𝒘𝒂𝒉 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒂𝒍𝒍!!!

[thebloodofages]

YES! FUCKING THANK YOU! All the characters, but especially Vergil have *gasp!* PERSONALITIES. His character is well written, quite frankly SPOT ON and I'm convinced that people say "tHiS iSnT hIM" are vacuous fuck heads who can't understand nuance.

Finally, a person who actually has a brain (let's face it, many DMC fans do not).

Vergil is a deeply emotional character, and I'm not just saying it because I've been living in his brain for the last month or so 24/7 because of the first person fic I have been writing from his perspective.

I mean, my flavor of autism is the kind where I connect rather deeply with fictional characters because to me they're like any other person in my life, but you have to be daft if you think he goes no deeper than "hurrr durrr POWER."

His fucking mother was attacked by an army of demons that raided their fucking HOME for fuck's sake. He was eight goddamn years old. He set out on the path he did because he couldn't protect his family and carries that pain with him everywhere he goes because he didn't have anyone tell him it is okay to be vulnerable because you were a literal fucking baby.

His rivalry with Dante is based on his childhood. Granted, we only get snippets of that, but the way I see it, Dante was his first bully.

But again they were kids. Both of them literally had to grow up immediately just so they could survive. Dante chooses unconditional love, Vergil chooses vengeance.

Fuck, both of them are way more multifaceted than any fucking r*tard dude dudebro will ever understand because they don't actually care about the characters.

Like yes? Dante and Vergil are THE OG aura farmers. They are confident in their strengths and talents and they fucking know it and they know they look absolutely stunning in everything they do but at the end of the day they are both two horrendously broken men and it takes way less than half a brain to see it something so obvious.

So as far as Punishing Gray Raven is concerned? They absolutely NAILED these characters and I do NOT say that lightly. The writers knew exactly what they were doing.

Not to mention Dan Southworth and Reuben Langdon absolutely would never have agreed to do these voice lines if they even suspected any ounce of disrespect. Vergil and Dante are special to them and it absolutely shows and I thank them so much for allowing the characters to be expanded in the way they always deserved.

Not whatever ego trip Adi Shankar went on to undermine these characters.

No, I do not hate the Netflix series, but DMC has ALWAYS been about two broken men finding out who they are as they navigate their deeply traumatic experiences but alsobring the absolute best so they can protect the ones they love. Not America raiding hell so yeah while I don't hate the show either, he definitely missed the fucking point.

It's obvious the writers at PGR actually love Devil May Cry.

Anyways, sorry for the tangent. These devil boys have been a huge part of my personality for 24 years and I'm proud of that. They are some of my favorite characters and I absolutely will stand up for them because they've been there for me during so many hard times.

the people who think vergil is some emotionless chad who exists purely to ‘aura farm’ or whatever the fuck actually piss me off i cannot STAND that side of the dmc fandom.

another rant nobody but me cares about but lorddd i gotta type this out somewhere. also wanna preface this by saying it’s about pgr vergil, but also just vergil in general, and directed at the people i mentioned above.

firstly — no it’s not ‘out of character’ for vergil to show vulnerability or emotion, he is a deeply emotional person. he feels deeply, he sees the world deeply, and he hurts so deeply that his motivation centred around being able to prevent himself from being harmed any more. he just isn’t (wasn’t) good at expressing that without violence pre-dmc5.

punishing grey raven did a really great job of capturing his post-dmc5 maturity, and it’s cohesive with the additional information we got in Visions of V regarding vergil’s inner thoughts. we simple haven’t seen enough of vergil outside of battle to be able to fully grasp how he’d act when he is free of chasing an ultimate goal, and is in a domestic, (mostly) relaxed situation.

it’s the people who’ve played approximately 5 hours total of ONLY dmc5, who then see clips of vergil in pgr that act all disgusted and get offended that vergil is actually capable of emotion and/or affection, who are the problem. they’re why vergil has been memed so much that people genuinely, honest to god(s) believe that he hates dante, he hates nero, and never cared at all. he gave nero his HEART, his book that he sees as an integral part of himself. the symbolism of him stating he wanted to be loved and protected, and then giving his ‘heart’ to be safeguarded by nero is so poetic (pun intended)!!! he literally trusts his son — after being with him while he was V, and fighting him as vergil at the qliphoth — to protect him.

vergil is capable of trusting, he is capable of affection, and he wants to be able to. it is in fact NOT out of character for him to express that (even if he sucks at doing so and is generally horrifically awkward about it. love the guy).

now don’t get me wrong — vergil is not a good person, and i’m not implying he is. he isn’t benevolent or kind or selfless, and he struggles (falls flat) at being empathetic to people he sees as more fortunate than him (such as dante, who he resented for being ‘better off’), but that doesn’t mean he’s incapable of experiencing varying degrees of love. for god’s sake, bury the light literally describes him as having ‘secret love, bloodline yearns.’ vergil is the pinnacle, the definition of emotionally constipated.

he was a total shithead and a real prick in dmc3. he was also a total shithead and a real prick in dmc5 (i mean that affectionately. but don’t get me started on urizen LOL) but he is as childish as dante is. he banters and holds silly grudges and competes with his brother like a teenager with something to prove. he calls dante an idiot for still saying ‘jackpot’ and then turns around and says it himself, because he secretly loves to.

and holy fuck that was a LOT longer than i intended this rant to be and i should be studying for my EngLang exam but oh well!!! shoutout to whoever reads this entire block of drivel.

ok bye :3

[ask-whitepearl-and-steven]

I remember you explained your process of choosing the questions to Steven quite thoroughly a while ago but I was wondering something. Sorry if I make you repeat yourself.

Up until now, did you manage to have all the asks you needed to push the plot forward?

I know you have a stock of questions that can be useful but did you ever need to slightly tweak one or compose from multiple ones to have what you needed? Or maybe it's the fun of it to have this restriction? Or just kinda both?

Actually, so far 99% of the questions have been selected and used as-is! I get a LOT of questions, and I try to save any that I need to use later, so they've built up. I have about 200+ in the drafts box right now, labeled with random stuff and season numbers in case I need to look for them again. I just do ctrl+f and go through until I find one that works.

A few times I have to crop the question though - either because people do this:

"Hey Steven (QUESTION HERE) and also btw chekhov (UNRELATED OUT OF CHARACTER THING HERE)"

but aside from that, and the one time I shortened a question because it wouldn't fit into the titlecard phone screen, I don't think I've changed them too much. I could be forgetting stuff, though.

[sanchoyoscribbles]

Tokyo Mew Mew X Lisa Frank style! 🌈✨

a little process (kind of) gif, since I knew there was no way I'd be able to record a speedpaint with as time consuming as this actually was! I also merged a lot of layers while working just because I had an ungodly amount of them and clip studio KEPT CRASHING BECAUSE OF IT. Like for such a simple looking style it's actually very involved...and I had to color most everything on separate layers, which I don't usually do?

this was a big compilation of lf refs I made- you can see there's actually three main different body types that are done: very chibi, semi chibi, and a more realistic doll sorta body. I did semi chibi because I thought it would be the most recognizable + easy. I never really color with the airbrush except for highlights, but a good 70% of these are airbrush shaded (there are a few that are more cell shaded randomly?) so that was.. an Experience trying not to let the colors get muddy. something also really interesting about the lisa frank style is that the animals are drawn pretty realistically compared to other cartoon animals (except the eyes), but they are colored with the rainbow whimsical colors.

the stickers added (the hearts and stars) are based on real lf stickers. I have a sticker book and opened it to reference them! and obviously the girl's specific animals have never been drawn in lisa frank style, but it was easy to base them off animals she HAS drawn like the husky for the wolf, the usual cat for the iromote cat, the dolphins referenced for the porpoise, etc.

this is something I've wanted to do ever since I did that mira drawing in the lisa frank style last may!

it has its own post, but for comparison:

I think I def improved on emulating the style!! ofc the above drawing was done in a day for my daily may challenge to myself last year, but still.

I am tempted to take this newer art to a print shop that does folders and see if they won't print me a folder with it for nostalgia's sake. I just think it'd be really really funny to put..idk, tax documents into it, lmao. But I’d need to draw another one so the front and back could have different images (if I flipped this version the text would be backwards on one side!!) and I’m not sure if I’d want to draw like.. the girls in their cafe uniforms, berry and ringo, or maybe the aliens for the back side of the folder? 🤔 and with me trying to get more comic pages and dtiys prizes done this month and artfight in July I’m not sure when I’ll be able to do that! But another one of these might be in the future! 🫣

[yannig]

I need to talk about this scene

gifs by @wanderlust-in-my-soul

A lot has been said about it already, but I want to examine how the dance - and Khanin's disregard for its rules - serves as a parallel to Emalian Royalty's as a whole and how Khanin reacts to it.

I genuinely think this could have been the show's first scene; it says so much about Khanin, what he thinks of Emaly's rigid social order and endless protocols, and what kind of consequences might emerge from breaking them.

Which is especially interesting because it is Khanin's first introduction to the public. Just like the first scene of a story sets up themes, expectations and characters, Khanin is setting up a very specific image of himself - and I'm not sure how much of it is intentional.

Let's start with saying that I've never done ballroom dancing. I've however been doing folk dancing for a while, and they have a lot in common, especially in regards to couple dances (ballroom mostly tends to be much more formal about it). I'll add that I've done some of it in queer spaces with a focus on de-gendering dance.

I wanna go over a few basis for couple dances before we get into the meat of it. I promise I'll keep it relevant.

You can get rid of the man/woman dichotomy if you want, but you still need a guide/lead and a follow. Most couples dances (and especially ballroom dances) will not work if you don't agree on who's guiding and who's following.

Guiding and following are two different things, and two different skills.

For dances where both partners do different things, if you want to be able to dance both roles, you need to learn both of them. Twirling someone is a very different experience from being twirled.

For dances with partner switches, it's especially important to pick a role and stick to it. I've danced some of them in queer balls where we hadn't clearly defined roles before starting, and it was a mess. A funny mess, but a mess nonetheless.

You don't usually pick your next partner at random. Most dances with partner switches have a predetermined order - like the follow going to the next partner on the left and the lead to the next partner on the right.

With all that in mind, let's get to the actual scene.

Going to dance with Charan is Khanin stepping out - literally - of the role that was assigned to him

Khanin is a Prince, and in this context it means he's supposed to only dance with women of equivalent status - and, of course, lead.

In that regard, ballroom dancing is a very good metaphor for the royalty's rigid protocols and roles as Khanin sees it: predetermined roles that don't fit him, strict rules he doesn't want to follow, and a social order deciding in his place who he's to spend time with.

It's also a very clear illustration of why homophobia is just another face of the patriarchy. If, as a man, you wish to dance with another man, you need to place one of you "in the woman's role" - and vice-versa for two women. Which of course, for a system where men and women's roles are strictly separated and hierarchized, is a problem. Don't get me wrong, it's a basic argument, but still not a point a lot of BLs make - in part for reasons of "BL bubble where homophobia doesn't exist" and in part for reasons of "women? what are those?".

Having said that:

Choosing to dance with a man is one thing. It's a very clear way to state he's gay (or at the very least attracted to men, but we all know how the medias will read that), but as the King says, time have changed. That was not subtle but it's not the worse.

The class difference is maybe a bit more problematic, but it's still not the worse. Charan might not be royalty per se, but he's still the King's pupil, and the fact that he was among the dancers at all means he is of sufficient status to interact with members of royalty.

Remember, this is a partner-switching dance. Considering how few dancers were on the dance-floor, it's very likely each man would have ended up dancing with every woman if Khanin's stunt hadn't interrupted the dance. Which means Charan would have almost certainly danced with Ava. If he's good enough for once dance with her, he's good enough for one dance with Khanin - they are of same status after all (even though Ava's a woman).

In my opinion, the real problem is that, in imposing himself on Charan, Khanin takes the role of the follow.

Don't get me wrong, realistically it was the only sensible decision. Khanin has no reason to assume Charan knows how to follow, and even if he did, if he's gonna spring this on poor Charan, might as well make it as easy as possible for him, and let him keep his role as a guide.

But it puts Khanin in the role of the follow. Which is to say the role of the woman. And this is a sexist society, Ava's situation has made that very clear!

Up until she decided to impose herself in the competition (which was only made possible by Khanin's return, and support), women were considered not good enough for the royal competition. Even though the one who takes part in the competition is not the one who ends up on the throne. Even though Ramil himself admits Ava is supposed to be better than him at fencing. If was so obvious it was not even written in the rules!

So Khanin puts himself in a woman's role. In a position to follow someone's else's directions. And worse, he lowers himself even more by choosing someone of significantly lower status than his own. That's where the real problems begin.

(and you know, the fact that he made his choice very obvious by stumbling into the longest dip in the world in front of all the cameras)

He's a Prince, he's not supposed to lower himself in front of anyone except higher-ranking royals (which is like 5 people). In choosing to dance with Charan in public, in giving him the lead, Khanin steps out of his status as Prince.

On the day of his coronation.

Keep in mind that this scene is his introduction to high society, Emaly at large, and even the world. And what's the message he chooses to send about himself? That spending time with Charan is more important to him than his status as a Prince. That's the real scandal here.

Here's the thing though: I do think Khanin is aware of the first two points. I'm not sure how much a realizes the third. Because he was raised in the UK, with significantly less hierarchies and sexism, I'm not sure he realized exactly how big of a transgression he's made. And I think a lot is going to hang on Khanin's understanding of the royalty's rules, so it's a major topic.

That been said:

Going to dance with Charan is at least partially premeditated on Khanin's part

Is it possible that Khanin just saw an opportunity when Charan was close, and decided "fuck it, I wanna dance with my crush"?

Yes.

However, to be able to pull that off, he needed to know the steps. Which means he trained both roles when learning to dance. Which in turns means he convinced his dance teacher (almost certainly Chakri) to teach him both the man and the woman's steps. Teacher who most certainly first tried to explain how it wasn't proper for Khanin to follow.

So Khanin does know he's breaking several rules at once, and very much prepared to do so in advance. Had he decided from the start he wanted to dance with Charan during his coronation? Who knows. But there is an undeniable level of preparation and premeditation on his part. I'm still not sure he understand how badly he might have upset some of the more traditional members of court, but he's certainly not clueless.

However, there's one point I'm really not sure he's taken into account:

Khanin going to dance with Charan is creating a mess for a lot more than the both of them.

I swear I screamed at him when he went for Charan, because even in a context where no one cares about your gender, you don't switch role mid-dance without warning. You're just gonna make a mess!

There are two women who just got abandoned in the middle of that dance-floor with no warning. And next change, everyone else is going to get thrown off-rhythm because there are now 4 people who are absolutely not where they should be.

Of course, he did end up interrupting the dance entirely with that dip from hell. But the other option was chaos, so I'm not sure which is worse.

In that regard, ballroom dancing is a really good demonstration of how fragile such a rigid system is, how the slightest imperfection can make the entire machine glitch. Khanin makes one move toward his crush and everyone gets thrown off-balance (and not just because half the dancers are also gay and looking at him jealously).

It's also a good demonstration of how Khanin's rule breaking can have much more far-reaching consequences than he anticipated.

Did he now how it would paint him? I'd yes say, overall.

Did he realize how it would impact the rest of the dancers? I'm not so sure. Either he didn't know or he didn't care, but the consequences are there.

And I'm pretty sure this idea is going to be central, that Khanin's actions will have a wider impact than intended, and that he might not always realize it at the time (or at all).

It's partly visible already in his efforts to keep Charan at his side, which Charan is already paying for. And I'd argue in his visit to Bhuchongpisut, which had many unexpected consequences, the worst of which Khanin isn't even aware of.

And it makes an interesting contrast with Ramil, who of course knows exactly who will be impacted by his actions.

[l0rm]

I'm not an expert in drag or it's cultural or historical influences, but my understanding of drag is that it is an exploration of gender and gender expression in the form of performance art. It's over the top, flamboyant, and over exaggerated because it's trying to highlight the underlying social expectations that make up gender.

I fully get feeling uncomfortable watching drag, because it is confronting, as art often is. I understand if the over sexualisation makes you feel uneasy (I definitely think that drag relies too much on sexualisation but I'm also aware that most of the shows I've seen recently have been in nightclubs where it rides the line between drag and just stripping), but the reality is that cishet gender roles are women are submissive, sexual objects, and men are strong, possessive leaders, and drag reflects on that.

I'm really sorry if you've had experiences of people incorrectly comparing your gender identity to drag. People shouldn't do that and should learn the difference between drag and transness. I personally haven't experienced that specifically but I definitely empathize with it. That said, you can't blame the art form for how people perceive it.

(also as a side note I don't really like the use of tma and tme here. I appreciate that it's supposed to be more inclusive, but it's kind of ignoring the place that drag kings have in drag, and also the opinion of trans men. But, I'm not a trans man so not necessarily my call)

(second side note that I would put in tags but I think is important. I didn't understand drag for a long time, but seeing chappell roan describe her act as drag really helped me frame it in a way that makes sense. Drag isn't about transness or cross-dressing, it is, once again, about exploring what gender actually is and what it actually means. It feels good to get these thoughts down on paper in some form, even if it's a poorly structured reblog in Tumblr dot com, because this is something that I've had rattling around in my brain box for a while)

Actually that makes me wonder

If you’re in between the two just pick the one you align with mosh

[tagintagout-au]

(You both walk in silence for a while.)

(...You don't want to push him...)

🪨: ...So. This- please don't panic...

🪨: It's nothing personal!! I'm just...

🪨: I... I don't know if... if I can keep this up anymore.

(...what..?)

🪨: It's just- I'm... I don't know if I'm... good enough, for this.

(WHAT!?)

🎀: NO!!!

🎀: I mean-- no, Isabeau, you're amazing!! You're incredibly smart, and-

🪨: No, no, that's... it's not what I mean.

🪨: I mean I'm a liar.

🪨: I'm... I'm not actually that strong. And the whole glass cannon thing is- it's... it's kinda made up, I...

🪨: I mean, sure, chemicals deal a lot of damage, but anyone could use them.

🪨: And... I.. haven't been giving it my all, either.

(What's that supposed to mean???)

🎀: ...Isabeau, what.. what are you talking about?

🪨: ...I- I... it's just,

🪨: ....

🪨: I'm not a good scientist!! I was- I was probably the worst out of the entire research team!!! I hate chemistry! I only got that job because my parents made me!!!

🪨: And I... I...!

🪨: I only joined Siffrin because I wanted to be liked!!!!

(HUH???)

🪨: A-and now, everyone thinks I'm some sort of genius, the nerd of the team, and I like being that and it's fine and everyone does like me but part of me just hates it!!! Hates that I've been lying to all of you!!!!!

🪨: And I... I...

🪨: ...Listen, I... I wasn't always like this.

🪨: I- back, before I became... this, I...

🪨: ...I was... a very, very angry kid.

🪨: I fought tooth and nail for respect. So people would finally see me as an equal.

🪨: ...But...

🪨: ...People don't like it when you fight back. When you point out the flaws in their world, when you show them what they've done.

🪨: So I learned to give up.

🪨: I hid all those rough parts. Everything that stood out. Everything that made me stand out.

🪨: I blended into the crowd as much as I could. Dedicated myself to the nerdiest stuff I could find, while keeping that air of stupidity. Just a shallow, easily outsmarted and weak idiot.

🪨: ...Because people like you when you're weaker than them. They feel safe. They don't have to be scared of you anymore.

🪨: I've lived in this... haze, for so long.

🪨: Until I met all of you.

🪨: You're all just- just... so, unapologetically, you! You stand out in the crowd, working hard towards something bigger!

🪨: A-and I... I don't even know who "me" is, anymore. All that's left is just- abandoned pieces of a broken person.

[dark-lord-of-awesomeness]

What if Stan was cursed to be his shadow?

Like, his own shadow? Is his body still there? Or is he just a shadow himself, lost and bodyless?

This got Long. Whoops?

For the first one I'm thinking his soul got shunted into the Shadow Realm somehow and now he's possessing his own shadow. He's stuck, can't get too far from his own lifeless body and no one can hear him. Probably gets picked up and taken to a hospital, and then ID'd or someone finds Fords number on him and Ford shows up, totally in denial of it either being Stan or Stan's faking it for attention. Then Shadow!Stan is frozen, both wanting to try and get Fords attention and also 'oh no, Fords here, seeing me like this.'

Ford gets Stan moved closer, or even finds a way to get him care at his house (not sure how that works, as I've not had a relative in a coma, but knowing Ford he might straight up 'kidnap' (its not kidnapping! I'm taking him home! He's my brother!) Stan if the hospital doesn't let him take Stan. Very fakely goes 'oh no Stan's missing :/ dang and everyone Knows but no one cares about one vagrent enough to really push it.) Gets Stan's car (if possible) then tries to Fix Stan.

Ford can Fix him, he's a genius! How hard can a medical degree be, really? He'll just get one, take a look at Stan, fix him, and then yell at him for getting himself into this kind of trouble. In the meantime he'll just use some magic remides and-

Ah. Stan's soul is missing. Hmm. Thats a Problem.

Meanwhile Stan's just. Chillin. He can't really go a certain distance from his body and he's a little scared to test that connection. He's got a shape right now, but what if he pushes it and disconects from his body? Will he fall apart? Will he get lost? He got cursed for maybe being a 'shadow of society' or some nonsense or maybe touched something he really shouldn't have and now he's stuck in a room in his estranged brothers house. All he gets is whirlwind moments of Ford bursting in, waving a bunch of machines or sticks over Stan, writing things down, then right back out again. He has no idea what Fords doing but he's so focused on it he hasn't realized the shadow guy trying to get his attention.

I imagine this ends the moment Ford does his first Questionable ritual and gets interrupted by a shadow guy silently yelling/trying to disrupt the ritual the best he can with his shadow hands (which does nothing really, he can't touch things after all.) Stan has no idea what Fords doing but he doesn't like this weird blood(?) ritual or that his body's in the middle of it.

Then its a game of charades/threaten the shadow guy until Ford understand that the shadow is Stan and he's stuck/trapped/cursed in some way and has been there the whole time. Does some magic to get his soul back out and into his body where Stan immediately bursts into tears because he can touch things again and has an actual body that makes noise. Both pretend its just a side affect while Fords lecture gets sidetracked with comforting his poor bro who's been a shadow for potentially months.

Now if he doesn't have a body?

Then he's in shadow limbo. No one can hear him, people wave him away as the light playing tricks on them. his body is starting to forget what it looks like the longer he's a shadow, becoming more and more formless the longer he's like this, and he's jumping from shadow to shadow to try and prevent it as long as possible.

Makes his way to Gravity Falls following his car that got picked up by Carla? what? He's chilling in the cars shadow, or Carla's, then gets the surprise of a lifetime when she drops his car off at Fords and moves in.

Then the enemy of a lifetime in Bill, who they can't see each other in the same plane, but Stan can see Bill's shadow and interact with it, while Bill's seeing this shadow thing (demon?) burst into his scene and is starting fights with him. Funniest option Stan can touch Bill through his shadow, but Bill can't do the same, so he has to be careful with what he's doing or else this annoying shadow will jump him and throw him like a frisbe.

So now he's sort of haunting Fords house, somewhat formless and beating up this other creepy shadow thats lurking around. At some point someones(fiddleford) gonna notice the shadows moving around, and Fiddlefords gonna freak, especially as Stan uses his time to torment the poor guy with his shadowy form from pure boredom, then because its funny when he makes Fiddleford look crazy for a while until someone else sees him and the games up.

Through a series of shenanigans they concinve themselves Stan's some kind of shadow demon, get a whole defense thing set up, Fords chanting some anti-demon thing, the shadows grow darker, hands creep into the light, they pass the barrier! Fiddlefords screaming, Fords yelling about how he doesn't understand how its not working! The shadows get closer! They reach out and-!

Do nothing. Stan can't touch people, but he can twist the shadows into a visible mockery of them all freaking out about him. He's laughing his ass off about it, pointing his blurry arm and doing shadow puppets of them screaming. Its the most fun he's had in months, and Fiddleford is trying to strangle a shadow while it sticks its tongue out at him then jumps into Fords shadow and reinacts Fords freakout.

For max angst this happens post Shifty, so Fords somewhat aware that something Might (MIGHT!) be up with Stan, but is still in denial. This is important, because when they start grilling the shadow on how long its been lurking around Stan will pantomime that he came with Carla and has been hanging around for months, trying to get someones attention. I'm thinking Stan couldn't manipulate shadows as well at the start, and messing with Fiddleford has also helped him improve. Well now he has their attention, but he doesn't know how to say he's Stan and also he's over heard Fords whole thing.

So now that the funs ended he just sorta, disappears. To them at least, he's still lurking around, but not really sure what to do with himself or how to ask for help or what.

I think the funniest option is that Stan gets that choice taken out of his hands when Ford, local magic and anomoly expert, realizes the annoying shadow still here and figures out a way to interact with it to make it go away. He's trying to work! Gets the gang together to sort of lull it into a false sense of security, get it to reveal itself, then uses some magic spell or artifact to pull Stan out of the shadows. For a normal shadow anomaly Ford would just be holding physical shadows, but because Stan's actually a guy trapped he just pulls Stan straight out of the darkness.

Lots of surprise all around, especially when Stan starts hyperventilating from his senses being assaulted and actually making noise and breathing and all that. He hasn't touched anything in months and he's melting into Fords grip and the floor and oh god he has permanent arms again and isn't becoming a blob. Meanwhile Fords staring at Stan in shock, trying to comprehend that Stan's been in his house the whole time and chose to mess with Fiddleford? Actually that sounds right, but is also extremely annoying.

For extra angst Ford can't let go or Stan goes back into the Shadow realm, so now he has to fix Stan while holding his hand the whole time.

Anyway thats what I got :)

[ninjathrowingstork]

Same brainwave! I've been mentally rotating this idea after switching over to rewatch s1 of Altered Carbon after Murderbot (needed similar genre but something I'd already seen while making something), how they both have the big blonde Swedes as characters who don't own or have much say over these bodies they're put into, in the middle of a diverse cast (this is also how I noticed only the Bamcroft family in AC are white, aside from Ryker's body that Tak is using unless I'm forgetting someone). In true Murderbot spirit, I was working on the idea and meaning while bored at work yesterday and I'll probably work out the thesis today on how this idealized male appearance is something assigned to both characters who, despite that, are more valued for their ability as a weapon and a tool. MB isn't a white male, and Tak is Slavic-Japanese, and I remember there being buzz over Joel Kinnaman being cast years ago despite his exactly matching Ryker in the book, and yeah MB doesn't get a physical description, and this universe not seeming to have the same standards and connotations regarding it's appearance, but for us the audience it makes an interesting argument about that specific complexion and physique being told are ideals, and yet we see sec unit completely objectified and socially powerless. Similarly, the person we see in AC isn't actually the man who owns that body, it's been rented out for Takeshi Kovachs to use while the actual owner is in prison, as a commodity. So, after all those too-long sentences as I'm running on two sips of coffee today, what I think I'm getting at is having Alexander as Sec Unit works, making this giant Ken Doll into someone who ISN'T male, and is only just seeing itself as a person, and that physical difference makes everything else a sharper contrast against the rest of the cast.

I wasn’t expecting to have to fight for my life in the “MB looks like a person trenches” but its entire arc(s) is on both dehumanization and rejecting humanization. MB’s story is about defining what it is between the two extremes — nonhuman/bot and human. To do that it’s essential to the story that it looks like a person, like Data, Janet, or the synths from Alien.

It’s in the text that it has a human face to reassure clients. Clients look at it and see a faceless robot with no more intelligence than a roomba or they see a person and it hates both reactions. Roomba is easier to deal with and ignore, which is why it keeps the helmet on. It’s in the text that it can pass at a glance as a heavily augmented human so long as no one looks too closes at the ports for guns built into its arms or its metal skeleton.

Secunit doesn’t want to be a person but its flesh parts means it can’t help but look like one and it gets freaked out by people treating it like one. It’s threading very fine needle on its journey of self discovery to figure out what the secret third thing is between person and bot, that’s literally the point of the last two novellas.