#also you are not trying to tell me that ming is stupid enough

[weeeeeeezamboni]

if i had a nickel for every time ming made joe's smile fall in episode three alone i'd have three nickels which is a fucking lot actually and ming better catch these fists istg

[phoenixkaptain]

Do you mind if I ask your top 10 favorite characters (can be male or female) from all of the media that you loved (can be anime/manga, books, movies or tv series)? And why do you love them? Sorry if you've answered this question before.....Thanks...

I think I have answered this question before, but I don’t mind because I like talking about ny favourite characters!

(And my favourite characters change hourly, so-)

I can’t rank them, I love them all equally, but my current favourites:

1. Luo Binghe from Scum Villain Self-Saving System. I can’t help it. Fanon likes to paint him as comical, at times, but I love how competent he is! He just… would like to be a housewife. Preferably his Shizun’s housewife… and, he is, as Shen Qingqiu says himself, the type of person to smile to your fave while sliding a knife in your back and I love that for him

2. Quan Yizhen from Heaven Official’s Blessing. He throws a bed at Pei Ming. He’s obsessed with his shixiong and beats up his own followers for badmouthing him. He’s smart enough to realize that everyone thinks he’s stupid, therefore he can use obvious tricks because nobody thinks he can fool them. There’s a scene where Xie Lian and Quan Yizhen both praise something for being beautiful (I think it was the Brocade Immortal’s fighting) and even Ling Wen is like “You know I’m trying to kill you right?” He’s great :)

3. Tim Drake from DC Comics. The third Robin, the one most similar to Batman, the world second greatest detective. Can sneak up on Superman and managed to stalk Batman. Was going through a lot and tried to clone his best friend. The quintessential perfectionist. I headcanon that he plans his dates out on corkboards and no one will convince me otherwise. Also, his relationship with Ra’s Al Ghul in his Red Robin run was comedy gold.

4. Artemis Fowl from the books of the same name (I’ve never seen the movie and like to pretend it doesn’t exist). Fakes his own death multiple times and steals gold from fairies and is altogether a criminal mastermind. There’s a scene in the first book where Holly Short (the other main character) tells him to stay put and she’ll bring him back a lollipop (mocking him). She leaves and he mutters “But I don’t like lollipops.” Also gets made fun of for having a girly name, which I can relate to since I was made fun of for having a masculine name.

5. Shen Qiao from Thousand Autumns. God, he’s just the best. He is absolutely infuriating. He has the patience of ten thousand men. Began the book waiting for him to snap, then realized that I didn’t want him to lose his temper because that would make Shen Qiao sad and Shen Qiao deserves all the happiness in the world. His martial brother pushed him off of a fucking mountain. Yan Wushi names a deer after him. Have you ever seen baby Shen Qiao? Qiao-er?? The cutest little fella, the sweetest bean, has never done anything wrong in his life.

6. Marth from the Fire Emblem series. There’s a scene in the remake of the first game where, after you recruit one of the characters during a fight, Marth can talk to him. The character is like “I understand if you don’t trust me.” Marth: “Why wouldn’t I trust you?” “I literally tried to kill you fifteen minutes ago.” Marth: “The past is in the past.” Marth is just the most polite boy. He was the first male character to be included in the FEH Bridal Event and he is… so cute…

7. Mara Jade from Star Wars. Specifically Mara Jade in the Thrawn trilogy. She is loyal to Karrde because he was nice to her. She wants to kill Luke so bad, but she can’t because if she doesn’t find out why he’s so weird before she kills him, she’ll never be at peace. Darth Vader’s coworker. “Who’s this “son of Vader” you keep mentioning?” -Mara Jade, while sitting next to the son of Vader they keep mentioning. Mirrors Anakin and I just love that for her (especially since he went good -> evil and she went evil -> good, they mirror each other babeyyy) She’s like “Are you sure you don’t want me to murder this creepy old guy?” The straightman in her and Luke’s relationship and it is so funny that the literal ex-Dark Jedi is the normal one.

8. Hiwatashi Nazuna from BNA. She is in love with Michiru. Anyone else: “Your agent is weird.” Nazuna: “Shut up you don’t know what you’re talking about.” Michiru: “Your agent is weird.” Nazuna: “You make a great point and I’m going to start distancing myself from him right away.” The trickiest trickster to ever trick trickers. She is willing to kill for Michiru and it’s honestly very relatable.

9. Kudou Shinichi from Detective Conan. The dumbest man alive. Also the most dramatic man alive. Obsessed with Sherlock Holmes and infodumps about him constantly. Is terrible at pretending to be a child, literally nobody is convinced, but Conan is so cute, how can they say no to him? Has the strongest moral compass of any character (aside from maybe Shen Qiao) and the world is lucky his moral compass is so strong, because if he decided to be evil, no one would be able to stop him. My favourite moments are the ones where innocent little Conan-kun smiles and says horribly dark things that even make the murderer scared. Absolutely terrifying, at seventeen and seven, good for him.

10. Tianlang-jun from Scum Villain Self-Saving System. I know it’s another character from Scum Villain, but hear me out. He is absolutely insane. He decides to destroy the world because everyone thought he wanted to. He barters with Su Xiyan over how attractive his face is. He asks Zhuzhi-lang if he thinks he’s ugly. He is a pure-hearted innocent maiden and also the most powerful character in the book. He only loses to Binghe because he was stuck under a mountain for over a decade, and his body is rejecting his demonic qi and falling apart. He makes a coffin look like a throne and is intimidating as fuck, then asks Shen Qingqiu to help him up and his arm pops off. And he just says “Dang. It happened again, Zhuzhi-lang.” My favourite red herring of all time, I just want to pat-pat his head.

These are the current ones. Shout-out to Yan Wushi from Thousand Autumns, who spends the entire novel fucking with Shen Qiao then has the terrible realization that he fell in love with Shen Qiao. Also, he made a very convincing woman. Also also, as I was looking through my notes on Thousand Autumns, I was reminded that he has the truly remarkable ability to ruin Shen Qiao’s reputation without even being present. Amazing! Second shout out to Bai Rong, also from Thousand Autumns, who gets a crush on Shen Qiao and offers to become his sugar daddy. A lot of characters try to seduce Shen Qiao, but Bai Rong was my favourite because she was just so… cute about it.

I like a lot of characters… Thank you for your ask :)

[eurofox]

Yakuza 3 review

I heard that this is one of the least popular games in the series. As it’s one of the oldest games I can see why. It’s also fairly short while also poorly paced. I still enjoyed it but less so than that other games. I have heard it was rushed though

SPOILERS:

The good shit:

It’s nice to see Kiryu happy and living his dream

Another great soundtrack, some gems here (clay doll on the cradle is my face)

I actually don’t mind Kaoru’s departure. Kind of refreshing to see a female character choose a career over romance (she was shown to be ambitious) and her fling with Kiryu really seemed like a ��heat of the moment’ thing than a real relationship. I hear it’s because her VA was a nightmare though. But I wasn’t too bothered with this

Kiryu’s rad shirt

Okinawa is a nice change of pace and easy to get around (it took my 3 games to know my way round Kamurocho lmao)

Rikiya and co grew on me.

Pretty brutal combat, smashing people’s teeth out and shit

Has the best gun based boss in the series with Andre Richardson. Actually LIDL own brand Wesker one of the best Big Bads in the whole series.

The Kanda love hotel fight is comedy gold

Kanda gets a well deserved death

All the E N G L I S H

Hospital battle is great. One of my fave long battles in the series

Daigo’s hurt screaming MINE

Kiry getting Majima to babysit Daigo

Majima has a few shining moments here, especially the lorry rescue

Kiryu’s blog is such a funny idea.

Bullfight was silly, but enjoyable

Daigo’s post coma crackshot is unintentially hilarious

Mine’s boss fight is ok

The Bad shit:

Holy fuck people were not exaggerating with the BLOCKUZA jokes. Having some low level mooks block my every move did not make me feel like the dragon of Dojima. 

That Lau Ka long fight where I just kept getting stunlocked while he made those wacky noises

Looks dated and feel dated. They did what they could I guess but I think this game could do with the Kiwami treatment.

At this point, 4 games in, I’m starting to see re-used tropes.

JESUS CHRIST TAKE AWAY THE FUCKING GUNS FROM DEFEATED FOES

The disrespect they showed Kashiwagi

Rikiya’s death is pointless and was avoidable.

Daigo’s model looks so bad, with his shiny and miss-shapen head, I thought at first he was the white guy who I’d heard was in this game

Evil (or good I guess?) Kazama twin, really?

No hamazaki fight

Shortest game and it starts going too fast once you meet Joji

That duck eating cutscene, minging.

Those damn kids. I get they wanted to build up the relationship with them but it really should have been sub story’s. It just got tedious after 5 hours. Especially as Kiryu says he’s ready to go and still fannys about in Okinawa

ANIKI every 2 seconds is really fucking annoying. I abandoned him in serena

30 minute long exposition scene with the politician

Kiryu’s god awful sideburns

Why is Kiryu so W I D E

Goons with annoying introductions

Having to run around finding shit for that stupid dog

Chase sections

I just don’t really get all the Mine love in the fanbase. He’s not developed enough

Dumb fake out death scene

The plot here is messy, though I kind of preferred it over 3 for several reasons. I’ll go into what I made of it:

It’s nice to see Daigo trying to help Kiryu (He tries, he really does) but why not just relocate that orphanage? They build it back in no time when Mine wrecks it so couldn’t he just ask kiryu to move? He needs the cash.

The whole resort/military base thing needing each other was confusing tbh.

The super secret place Kahiwagi stowed Daigo? The hospital. Damn, they’ll never find him there.

Nakahara and co. are nice, but why do we never see them again?

Why would Kazama never mention his CIA operative twin to Kiryu?

So it turns out Joji never actually shot anyone, just that big meanie Andre while Joji just stood there shaking his head in disapproval presumably.

The CIA couldn’t tell that the head of the evil Black Monday was pretending to be a CIA agent?

Kiryu howls in manly pain for poor aul rikyia who he knew for a year, but gets over the death of his mentor/brother figure Kashiwagi in like a minute. And was machine gunning Kashiwagi really necessary?

Mine’s whole ‘I ❤ DAIGO’ thing comes across a bit psycho-esque. He’s cartoonishly evil, demolishes an orphanage for fucks sake. And his reason for going wild are odd. Daigo’s only been in a coma for a few days and he wants to put him down like a lame horse? He’s not even in ICU, he’s hardly a ‘tangle of tubes’, doesn’t even have a dripstand, just an oxygen mask. Reminds me off that scene in the simpsons when Barney tries to smother homer in hospital when he’s actually fine. Plus he sells out to Black Monday for more money cos of some dumb bullshit about real brotherhood or something. He seems to be more popular in japan so I checked out some of his RGG online stories and he comes across as  obsessive over Daigo, which seems one sided. I can’t tell if he’s actually gay for Daigo. There are plenty of very close platonic male friendships in this series but his doesn’t seem that way.

While I never really got into Mine, I really liked Andre as a villain. His plans aren’t the convoluted mess like the other ‘real’ baddies. He just wants to steal some missiles for money. He is so aggressively American that it’s just funny. Blond, tall and blue eyes, refuses to speak Japanese despite understanding it, his silly phrases ‘ah shit’ and ‘go to hell’, giving up on hand to hand combat and just pulling out a glock. Also his white guy entourage looks like they were rounded up outside an office building in Birmingham. His boss fight is actually fun as he doesn’t block as much. His gun doesn’t constantly knock you on your ass like in Kiwami. Gets his ass handed to him by a guy coming out of a coma and completely ruins Mine’s dramatic speech with his his whining ‘let me go’ ‘wah’ ‘stop it’. Also I got last samurai’d on my playthrough as I hadn’t bought any healing items in Okinawa so the Andre and co killed me in that surprise fight. Overall, great villain.

I can see the issues with this game but it was still enjoyable. Some people might even enjoy the slice of life stuff in Okinawa but I resented how I was forced into it, especially when I wanted to get going to Tokyo for the rest of the story. Plus I can suspend belief for Kiryu’s nonsense when it’s a substory, but it seems silly when I’m looking for dogfood when Daigo is comatose in the main section. Goofiest plot so far but the cool villain redeemed it a bit. And it’s nice that Daigo got a badass moment, even if shortlived, he takes a lot of L’s in this series.So it was ok, but I can see why people are less enthusiastic about this one.

[meltwonu]

10. “We’re in public, you know.”

23. “We cant do that here!”

34. “Tell me what you want.”

notes; dom!mingyu, drinking/body shots(drink responsibly yall), dirty talk, degradation/name calling/v minor dumbification, creampie/cum eating, fucking in public, v minor hair pulling, yikes what isn't a warning on this one LOL 😩ok i def def def imagined 24hr long haired mingyu for this for the full fantasy heheh ykno the outfit with the distressed denim and black blazer with the chiffon shirt underneath, also this is long so the rest is under the cut!! Thank you again for requesting!! enjoy!!💕

Dive bars were typically reserved for post-exam, post-finals, ‘I’m not sure if I fucked up but I don’t want to think about it’ situations.

Which is exactly why you found yourself there with a handful of your other university friends; 4 shots deep into the tequila.

“Oof, don’t look now but your campus crush just walked in with his entourage.” Vernon teases, already sliding off of his bar stool to get another round of shots. “Do you want another, or?” His voice already sounds faraway when you fixate on Mingyu, the source of all your recent sexual frustrations. You hated to admit it but you were always too shy to approach him, even when you had the same classes. But this time, you knew you were going to finally make a move.

Vernon rolls his eyes when you don’t reply, leaving as you stare off at Mingyu.

And you can’t help but fantasize; goosebumps rising on your skin when you imagine Mingyu’s hands all over your skin and his cock deep inside your pussy. The thought alone has you rubbing your thighs together and it only gets worse when you start to imagine him eating you out; fingertips tangled in his long wavy locks.

Biting your lip, you tear your eyes away from the tall male as soon as you see Vernon walking back to the table.

“Here, got this just for you.” He wiggles his eyebrows, placing a shot glass full of tequila, a slice of lime, and a salt shaker in front of you. “A body shot!” You blush a crimson, eye twitching.

“W-why would I need that?”

Jeonghan snorts from across the table, eyes rolling when you glance his way. “‘Cause you’re ready to break your kneecaps for Mingyu and we all can fuckin’ tell. Here, drink my shot too. You need it.” Gulping, you pick up the glass and quickly down the liquid.

“Now we’re getting somewhere!”

It takes 3 more tequila shots before you’re stumbling off of your stool; swiping the shot glass, lime and salt shaker off of the dirty table before your wobbly legs start taking you towards Mingyu.

His laughter only grows louder the closer you get, heart pounding in your chest when his friends gesture your way.

Mingyu turns to you; a hint of a smirk on his face when he meets your bleary eyes. “Yes?”

“Come do this tequila shot with me!” You slur out, lips forming a drunken smile when he moves to get up from his seat. He wraps his hand around your wrist holding the shot glass, tugging you towards a more secluded part of the bar as his friends look on.

“We’re in public, you know. I’m not sure if body shots are for a dingy dive bar.” Mingyu smiles at you, eyes twinkling with playfulness. “And I’m not really a fan of tequila.”

“If they’re not for sleazy bars, where are they for then, huh?” Your body tingles with electricity with his hand on your wrist and you can’t help the way you lean in closer when he doesn’t respond. 

“And who says you’re the one drinking it anyway. What if I just needed to use your body?”

Mingyu laughs, half in disbelief and half in amusement, letting go of your wrist as he opens his blazer. “Well? Get to it then, let me see what that mouth of yours can do.” You giggle in response, juggling the shot glass and salt shaker in one hand before bringing the slice of lime up to his lips. He bites into it, leaning down until he’s at a comfortable height for you.

Grinning, you unbutton his shirt a little more, leaning in to lick at the junction of his neck and shoulder until you deem it wet enough; shaking the salt shaker over the area until there’s enough salt on his skin. Mingyu laughs around the lime in his mouth, tilting his head a little more to give you more access.

Before you can change your mind, you quickly down the shot, leaning back in as you hurriedly lap at the salt on his skin. The last step has you hesitating for a moment, Mingyu’s firm stare meeting yours when he brings a hand up towards your head. He tangles his hand in your hair and brings you in closer; your lips puckering around the lime wedged between his lips as you suck.

As soon as you bite into the lime, Mingyu pulls back, letting go of your hair in the process. You pull the fruit slice out of your mouth, setting it onto the nearest table just as he wraps a hand around your wrist again, tugging you towards the bar’s restroom.

He quickly pushes you into the one person restroom, locking the door behind himself before turning to face you.

“Tell me what you want.” He grits out, body rigid as he watches you lean against the dirty wall. “Tell me what that greedy pussy of yours wants, baby.”

“Mmh... want you to fu--fuck, hic, me~” 

The alcohol finally hits you hard, body sensitive when he pins you against the wall. “Fuck, that slutty ‘lil  mouth of yours could probably do some damage, huh? I bet you’re good at choking on cock.” You can’t help but moan as you rub your thighs together.

“We can’t do that here!” You whine, hazy eyes trying to focus on Mingyu. “The--the floor’s d--dirty and I, hic, I wanna feel your c-cock inside of meee~”

Mingyu scoffs, eyes rolling when he rests the palms of his hands on either side of your head. “Yeah? You think you can take my cock? Is that pussy wet enough to take me already?” He pauses, watching as you lick your lips. “I could see the way you were staring at me, y’know? Always thought you were a cute ‘lil thing. Playing coy around campus... Who knew you really had it in you.”

“God, Mingyu, would you stop t-talking? I’m trying to get, hic, you in me, so if you’d please just h-hurry!”

“So impatient. You’re just a cock hungry cumslut who’s willing to get fucked by me in a dirty bar restroom, aren’t you?”

You feel the wetness pooling in your panties, hands immediately latching onto his belt as you start to undo the buckle.

“Yes, now fucking, hic, give it to m-me, damn it!”

And Mingyu does.

His strong arms are the only thing keeping you up; your legs wrapped around his waist and back pressed into the wall as he fucks you hard and fast. Your fingertips tangle into his wavy hair, latching on for dear life when he angles his thrusts in a way that has the head of his cock tapping your g-spot.

“O--oh, fuh--fuck, Mingyu, there! Please, h-harder!!”

He chuckles under his breath; harsh thrusts making your pussy tighten even more around his thick cock. “Yeah? You want it harder? You want me to fuck this ‘lil pussy until all it knows is my cock?” Garbled noises spill from your lips at his questions, hands tugging harder onto his hair.

��Y--yes, god, yes! I--fuck, w-want you to fuck me until, a-ah, all I know is how to take your c-cock!” You cry, digging the heels into the small of his back. “God, just please fuck me stupid, Mingyu!!”

The said male grins, nails digging into the underneath of your thighs as he doubles his pace. “Yeah? Wanna be my dumb ‘lil cumslut? I’ll give you what you want. Anytime, baby. Just say the word.” You can only whine in response, teeth chattering when you feel your orgasm coming.

And Mingyu can tell, growling when he feels your pussy sucking him in deeper. “Make yourself cum. Touch your cute ‘lil clit and get my cock wet.”

You reach a hand down between your bodies, fingertips on the swollen nub as you mewl. “Mmh.. Mingyu… need ‘ta cum…” You mumble, pinching your clit between your fingertips. “Pl--please cum i-inside of, hic, me…” Moaning, you rub circles on your clit, eyes rolling to the back of your head when you can feel his cock throbbing inside of you.

“You want me to fill you up with my cum, huh? Filthy ‘lil slut.” He scoffs, grinding against you until you whimper. “Fuck, you’re so goddamn tight!”

“Ngh, Ming----Mingyu, ‘m, ah, gonna c-cum!”

A jumbled mix of words tumble off your lips, Mingyu’s name a broken cry in the mix as you cum; thighs shaking and body tensing as the immense pleasure washes over your body. Mingyu fucks you through your orgasm, finding it harder and harder to thrust into you as your pussy tightens into a vice grip around his cock.

But he soon follows suit, licking his lips when he unloads all of his cum inside of you. He slowly grinds against you, riding out his high as he watches your eyes flutter shut. “Does it feel good, baby?” You can only nod in return; moaning at the feeling of his warm cum filling you up.

Mingyu gives it a second before he lets you down onto your feet gently; your hand slipping from his hair as you try to stabilize yourself on wobbly legs. Your eyes are hazy and your head still feels fuzzy from the alcohol and orgasm, but Mingyu drops to his knees within seconds, a smirk on his face when he looks up at you. 

“Spread your legs. Let me see you push my cum out.”

A blush coats your cheeks as you follow his orders, spreading your legs until you can reach down and use your fingers to keep your swollen folds apart. Mingyu immediately leans in, licking his lips as he watches the cum dribble down your thighs.

“Such an obedient slut.”

He places his hands on your thighs, leaning forward until he’s lapping up at the rivulets of cum that drip down your skin. He licks around your fingers, catching all that he can on his tongue before he stands back up.

It takes you a moment to catch onto what he’s doing; tilting your own head up as he tangles a hand through your hair. He leans down, lips on yours in a heated kiss and all you can taste is his cum and the whiskey he’d been drinking earlier in the night. But you moan into the kiss, parting your lips willingly when he pushes the cum into your mouth for you to swallow.

Your eyes flutter shut just as he pulls away, a thread of cum and spit connecting your mouths when he takes a step back.

“So…” You swallow the salty substance down, trying to adjust your focus on Mingyu who wipes at his lips with the back of his hand.

“Y-yes, Mingyu?”

He runs his hands through his messy hair, checking himself in the broken mirror above the sink.

“D’you come here often?”

[heretherebedork]

If you could categorize the pining characters the trope anon listed, where would they be? Who's pining character/s that you absolutely love and also you hate?

So, first off, @absolutebl just did this and they did it AMAZINGLY so I will try to do this in a way this is not just... that.

So, I'm going to categorize them based on... well, maybe my first thoughts?

Whatever.

We're starting with the category of soft piners. These are the gentle ones, the ones who love quietly and typically are fairly content to keep their love to themselves until the opportunity is basically shoved at them.

These are the sweetest boys, the gentlemen, the ones that you sigh about because they're just so kind.

Softest boys: Kurosawa, BBomb, Shi De (caveats apply, but mostly so), Champ, Doc, Mek, Gun, Wayo, In Soo, Mes

Now the sad piners. The one that leave you with a heavy heart, with pained thoughts. The ones who have decied that pining is a burden to bear and that it is theirs and theirs alone. They pine and they pine away.

These are the boys that make me feel like a fainting couch would be a great addition to some BLs.

Saddest boys: Paii, Chonlatee (caveats apply, mostly that he's from a comedy show), Mon, Puth, Sat, Jia, Kaeng, Mark (En of Love), Third (the ULTIMATE), Yeon Woo, Leo and Fiat (because they're idiots), Un, Two

Now, let's take a break and put together the small list I call 'these character suck and shouldn't be here and who let them into this BL anyway'.

The toxic piners. The characters that are bad for everyone around them and the show just refuses to acknowledge that.

Oh, look, it's Mork and Kengkla! WHAT A SHOCK. YongJie is sorta... across the street from them. He's toxic AF but he still got a better story than either of them. Mhok and Aey both go here but with much less force than the others. They're all toxic but just in their own ways.

Okay! ONWARDS TO GREENER PASTURES.

These are the more forceful piners. They're typically characters that I might not entirely count as pining but some people seem to? These are typically people I would push more into the idea of pursuer rather than piner.

Pursuer/forceful piners: Nubsib, Shi De (second season? sort of?), Gu Hai, Ming, Mark, Man, Kongpob, Cody, Frong, Folk, In (UWMA) (y'all. Y'all. In does not pine. IN. DOES. NOT. PINE. He walks up to Korn and tells him exactly how he feels. Why do y'all keep trying to tell me he's pining?)

This category is called: pining by narrative. These are characters I where I don't know they're pining until the narrative tells me they are. Now, this might just be me. Keep in that in mind. But these are the boys where the shows says 'they were pining!' and i tilt my head like a confused puppy and go '... since where?'

Narrative pining: Sarawat, Boss,

Now it gets harder. Either because I've kinda forgotten the character (Sorry, some of them just aren't gonna be categorized) or because there just aren't other characters similar to them in a lot of shows.

San Ha is a piner but he's one of the few piners whose feelings are known early on so he's very hard to categorize. He's somewhere between saddest and softest, honestly. I love him, of course, but he's pretty unique among most BL piners.

Tonhon has his own category and it's called 'I didn't even know I was pining!' and I love him for his stupidity, no denials.

Tsuge is also in his own category and it's called the anxiety piner. How much anxiety can one generate through his love for another? For Tsuge, it's enough to power a small city.

[besanii]

Hi thank you for the 🗡 🗡 🗡, it 💔💔💔 and it 😭😭😭😭😦😦😦🥺🥺🥺, but it also like😍😍😍😍😍 because we love suffering and torture and that sweet sweet angst. (if we ask for🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️) will it hurt even more? 😘

Shattered Mirrors 51

A pair of hands grab him under the armpits and haul him upright with a grunt. He hisses as a sharp pain lances through his limbs at the sudden movement and his legs buckle almost immediately beneath him, but he is still hauled unceremoniously out of the damp darkness, head lolling listlessly on his shoulders. The door opens with a clang that jars his ears and makes him wince—a sharp, painful contrast to the long days he has spent in utter silence—but his handler spares no regard for his comfort, or the fact that his feet are dragging like dead weights against the cold stone floor behind him.

He’s taken to another chamber, where his captor is waiting for him with a mocking little smile.

Thought you could get away, did you? You must be stupid to think you could escape.

He stifles a pained gasp when fingers grab him roughly by the hair and yank his head back, exposing his neck and face. His eyes water and sting at the light from the torches along the walls, clouding his vision.

But don’t worry, his captor croons. You’ll learn soon enough.

Then his vision clears and he sees the figure behind Wen Chao. His heart stops.

No. No, no, no, no—

Ah yes, we caught your little accomplice too. The hand in his hair drags him forward, closer to the bench. We’re going to teach him what happens to traitors who turn against their own blood.

Dark eyes stare up at him, wide with terror, and pale, trembling lips form soundless words that he can’t understand. The rest of his body is restrained, shackled to the bench with chains around his torso and legs, his head held in place by a wooden frame.

You know what this is, don’t you? A delighted laugh. We thought it’d be a fitting end for our little A-Ning here. He’ll die as he lived: in silence.

--

 He wakes to the feeling of someone shifting beside him in the bed. A candle is lit and set beside the bed, the dim glow illuminating the dark interior within the canopy until he can make out Lan Wangji’s features, furrowed with concern.

“Wei Ying?” he asks quietly. “Is everything alright?”

Wei Wuxian releases a shuddering breath and nods, ignoring the way his heart pounds in his chest and the clamminess of his skin.

“Just a nightmare,” he says. “Sorry for waking you.”

Honey-gold eyes study him for a moment before Lan Wangji reaches over to give his hand a reassuring squeeze where it clutches at the edge of the covers.

“No need to apologise,” he tells him with a soft smile, rubbing soothing circles along the back of his hand with his thumb. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He closes his eyes and takes a moment to calm his racing heart, but the moment he does he sees that pale face staring up and him with fear and despair, and tastes the bitter helplessness in the back of his throat like bile. He grits his teeth and swallows it down before he opens his eyes again and allows Lan Wangji to help him into a sitting position. Their hands are still joined, resting between them on the covers, and he takes comfort from the warm weight of Lan Wangji’s palm against his.

Throughout all of this, Lan Wangji does not press. He sits beside him on the bed, arranging the covers to ward off the chill, and waits patiently for Wei Wuxian to speak.

“Lan Zhan…” Wei Wuxian begins haltingly, his eyes cast down at their hands. “What do you know about Yiling-hou and his family?”

Lan Wangji hums.

“Yiling-hou was known to be a fair, just man,” he says. “He rarely participated in politics, and preferred to stay neutral where he could. I’m told his family shared those values, but they died before the end of the war so I have never met them personally.” He pauses. “Why do you ask?”

A shudder passes through Wei Wuxian’s body which Lan Wangji initially mistakes for him being cold, so he shifts until he can wrap an arm around his waist and draw him back against his chest. Wei Wuxian tucks his head beneath Lan Wangji’s chin with a sigh and covers the hand around his waist with both his own.

“When I was…in Qishan,” he says. He does not need to elaborate for Lan Wangji to understand the meaning behind it. “I met two people—a brother and sister. Children of Yiling-hou. A-Yuan’s aunt and uncle, in fact. They had been sent to join the war effort and were working as on-field medics.”

Fingers card through his hair in long, languid strokes and scratch lightly at his scalp until the tension bleeds from his shoulders; his own fingers trace tiny circles over Lan Wangji’s forearm as he considers his next words.

“They were kind to me,” he says. “Did the best they could to help me despite the danger it would pose to them if they were discovered. If it weren’t for them, I would have died a long time ago.”

He shudders, drawing his knees up to his chest and curling in on himself a little tighter. Lan Wangji’s fingers do not stop their ministrations, but he wraps his other arm around him more securely, grounding him with the warmth and weight of his body. He has never spoken of these things to anyone before, not even Wen Yuan—the words do not come easily.

“We were discovered, eventually,” he continues, his voice going quieter as the memories resurface in his mind’s eye; he feels Lan Wangji’s body stiffen behind his. “The night they occupied Jiangling. Security was lax that night, so we decided to try our luck while the guards were distracted. It…well,” he chuckled to himself, a dark, bitter sound, “suffice to say, it didn’t work.”

Lan Wangji opens his mouth to speak, but decides against it, opting instead to press his lips against Wei Wuxian’s temple. His breath tickles the soft hairs there as he exhales. Wei Wuxian’s fingers tighten around Lan Wangji’s sleeve, twisting into the soft fabric; his eyes stare unseeingly at the flickering shadows dancing along the walls with the candlelight.

“There are many forms of punishment,” he continues distantly. “Many forms of torture that can leave a mark on the victim without even touching them once. There was one, in particular, that—that he was fond of. One that left him with a memento at the end of it, a trophy for his collection.”

He doesn’t need to elaborate on who he is referring to—Lan Wangji recalls the barely human figure huddled in the crate, disgust rising in the back of his throat at the memory of the stench and the bloodcurdling shrieks, and knows.

“Jiaguanjinjue,” he breathes.

Wei Wuxian stifles a gasp; his hands reach up as if to cover his ears, only to fall short and dig into the muscles of his jaw and cheeks instead, leaving deep imprints against the skin.

“How did you—?” the words are breathy and strangled. Lan Wangji shakes his head.

“There was a room in the watchtower at Jiangling,” he says. “The contents were mostly burned to ash, but there were a few…scraps. Enough for us to realise what they were.”

The laughter that rips itself from Wei Wuxian’s throat is harsh and wet, half-choked with sobs.

“He couldn’t move,” he whispers. “No matter how hard he fought. It was—I couldn’t—” he gasps, “—I can still hear him, trying to—to breathe, struggling—”

The hand in his hair cups the back of his head, bringing his face against the soft skin of Lan Wangji’s neck as he weeps; they cling to each other tightly, desperately, unable to stop the trembles that wrack their bodies. His ears ring with the sound of his own gasping sobs, mingling with the phantom echo of Wen Ning’s final breaths in that cold, dark cell—

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji’s voice is in his ears then, low and soothing, cutting through the storm in his mind. “Wei Ying, come back.”

He continues to murmur in his ear, soft reassurances and gentle words, his arms strong and firm and warm around his body. It seeps into his skin gradually, washing away the chill in his bones and the ice in his veins until the tremors subside. Even then neither of them relinquish their hold on the other.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji murmurs into his hair. “It’s alright. You’re safe now. I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

   Notes:

jiaguanjinjue (加官进爵) - literally “promotion to nobility”; a method of execution beginning in Ming Dynasty where the criminal was bound to a bench to prevent movement, and layers of wet paper/fabric were placed over their faces until they died of suffocation. By the time the execution is over, the layers will have hardened into a mask that preserves the person’s final expression. It’s the quietest method of execution.

Master Post and ko-fi link on my sidebar!

[i-am-just-a-kiddo]

Fic Writer Interview Meme

tagged by dear @vishcount 💕 am sending you a lot of love because you are doing amazing, even if it doesn’t feel like it. don’t be so harsh on yourself. and thank you for the tag, I did my best. 

tagging @cortue, @intyalote, @the-cloud-whisperer, @not-saying-revolution-but and every writer that sees this and wants to do it! 

I was rambling again so there’s the usual cut

name: here just kiddo please - iamjustakiddo on ao3

fandoms: just for shits and giggles am gonna try and list all the fandoms i’ve written for? roughly chronologically speaking, my first fic was for Kuroshitsuji and the we go to Harry Potter, SKAM, Narnia, Sherlock Holmes (unpublished), Peter Pan (unpublished) - I don’t write for any of these anymore? except for Narnia which I might return to when the mood hits. I’ve written a ton for BTS and The Untamed, and still wish to write more for Nirvana in Fire. I’ve also written for Winter Begonia, Hwarang and YYY: The Series. Current WIPs are Word Of Honor, The Sleuth of Ming Dynasty, Original Sin - none of those will probably see the light of day. I’ve also had thoughts of writing for Killer and Healer, Strangers from Hell and Avatar: The Last Airbender.

two-shot: hmm I guess my two oneshots for YYY could count as a two shot? am not sure, but I simply had different ideas and seperated them instead of writing one coherent oneshot.

most popular multi-chapter fic: my BTS Mafia AU Take Me Into Your Skin. I’m quite proud of this one because it was my first ever multichaptered story back when I wrote it in 2018 and it turned out to be over 160k words long, which is just wild? I guess I cringe at it a lot and I would change a lot about it now, but am still proud of it because I had a lot of fun and am still fond of the story. (Statistics - Subscriptions: 144 / Hits: 18319 / Kudos: 519 / Comment Threads: 83 / Bookmarks: 295)

actual worst part of writing: everything currently. I feel a little bit like an imposter doing these games right now, cause I haven’t written anything that I’m truly proud of recently (or like, this past year I guess). This slump is very hard to get out of.  Under normal circumstances, the worst part of writing is when I know what I wanna write but it doesn’t come out? and when every sentence just sounds horrible and not at all how I imagined. Also the physical act of writing is difficult because I get tired so easily and when I don’t manage to get into hyperfocus and a nice flow, it’s just exhausting. 

also coming up with summaries, fuck that. 

how you choose your titles: i’m very basic and usually use some quotes or lyrics, but recently I’ve been trying to be more creative with my titles? I need to exercise that because I truly wanna learn how to come up with my own titles that sound nice. I suck at them so much 

do you outline: absolutely. my memory sucks badly so I always try to keep an overview in my notebooks because I can’t trust my brain to remember all the important details I come up with. Working with notes is also so freeing because I’m free to do anything I want and don’t need to worry about actually writing it? I like having visuals for my stories so it feels like an anchor I can hold on to when I’m lost.

ideas you probably won’t get around to, but wouldn’t it be nice: oh boy this is difficult, because I don’t have specifics for any of these ideas and that’s why I never get around to do them? I guess bringing my Wen Kexing and Wang Zhi character studies into shape is the most doable project rn. I would also love to finish my Original Sin fic because I really want to write a proper case-fic with actual plot but am just so stuck on that and too stupid for my own criminal cases so currently I’ve put that on hold. 

An idea that I’ve had for years now is a Sokka/Suki/Toph future fic? I would ignore what happens in LOK and for some reason I’m stuck on the thought that I want to explore this OT3? I want to explore how in their adult lives, they would fit together and especially how Toph could work as addition to the relationship Sokka und Suki have? I would love to explore the individual relationships they have with each other but I’m also very nervous about it because I’ve never written for ATLA and I don’t know if I can explore this properly. 

another idea that’s been on my mind ever since Singularity dropped is a taegi Dorian Gray AU? I’ve already done a little bit of research about 19th century Korea and Korean portrait paintings because of course, I would wanna make it as historically accurate as I can manage but honestly, I feel this project is quite hopeless. I think I also have very conflicting ideas about how I should do this and if it’s even a good idea to realise. 

Recently I’ve been thinking about writing a slow-burn enemies to lovers adventure story because I have Cravings. I don’t know if this would be an original project or some type of AU for some fandom, but I just really want to write about two people on opposite sides clashing together and having to work together, forming a reluctant bond and just. exploring the progress of that? Maybe there would be horses, probably historical, or maybe fantasy? I have no idea, I just wish I could write something like this some day. 

callouts @ me: stop being pretentious. not everything needs to be existential dread. don’t project all your issues into every character you write. not every sentence you write needs to be a Masterpiece and sometimes less is more. bring more structure to your stories instead of just aimlessly drifting. learn grammar for god’s sake.

best writing traits: i have no idea sorry. maybe that I heavily rely on my empathy? but i  truly do not know.

spicy tangential opinion: I don’t have any spicy opinions I think? Just do what you enjoy. Write what you want, you can worry about what to with it after. If you want to get rid of thoughts just do it. Don’t think about how it looks to other people, because unless you show it someone, it’s your art. It’s okay if it takes time, even if it’s frustrating. Pressure doesn’t help with creating art so maybe allow it to grow organically. is this spicy enough yet? don’t let people tell you you are less of a writer because you do things differently. there are methods, ideas, guides, advice - but there shouldn’t be rules to what makes you writer. everyone works differently. and to everyone who struggles - i know it sucks but as long as you find joy in writing, it’s not hopeless. sometimes things need a break or sometimes it needs a different shape and that’s okay ❤ did I reach the level of spiciness required here? 

summing up, I just wanna send strength to all writers out there because oh boy do we need it! and sending a lot of gratitude to all the fic-writers out there that have made my nights and days more enjoyable by sharing their passion. 

[vampire-the-askerade]

Vtmb to seeing your bra strap haning out

[Look, I have no idea what drove me to not only write this, but also for everyone, but the fates has deemed it to be so else it would bit be here at this time.]

Camarilla

LaCroix- The absolute scandal! "Make yourself decent at once!"

Sheriff- He doesn't care. Wear your clothes how you want to.

Strauss- Will discreetly tell you( walking up to you to say it quietly if there are other people in the room), "Perhaps you would like to go to the other room to adjust yourself."

Therese- Look, she's been there and gets it. Sometimes a bra just doesn't do what you want it to. Will point out the strap is showing and suggest you fix it, but won't be horribly offended if you don't.

Nosferatu

Imalia- Only cares if it's not cute/fancy. Literally will be like, "If you're gonna show people your bra, at least wear a nice one."

Mitnick- He will notice immediately but not know if he should tell you or not. He doesn't know if it would be ruder to tell you or to let it be. Doesn't know the protocol for such things at all.

Bertram- As soon as he notices the strap, he'll crane his head to see if he can catch a glance at more. He's kind of a creep like that. Will make a snarky comment about it.

Barabus- Will just tell you straight out. After all that he has seen, there's no way he's going to find a simple article of clothing offensive.

Gary- Actually gets a little flustered about it. Knows that he shouldn't, but there's just a part in his upbringing that screams that seeing something like that is horrifically embarrassing for all parties involved. Either way, he'll manage to grunt out, "Having problems there, boss?"

Anarchs

Jeanette- Yeah, she's not going to care. Have you seen her? Her whole bra is showing.

Damsel- Oh, no. Now everyone will know that you wear the same piece of clothing that like half of the population wears! Not only does she not care, she will also tell other people they're stupid for freaking out about it.

Skelter- Might point it out if he sees it. It's not like it bothers him, but he's concerned that you might get embarrassed about it.

Nines- If this does fluster you, it will still fluster him more. He thinks the best way to handle the situation is to pretend that your strap is not hanging out from your shirt. Regardless, he keeps looking at it. He almost can't help it.

Jack- can and will snap it when he walks by. Not in a creepy way at all. More of his inner child coming out when it sees an opportunity for unbridled chaos. It will happen every time he able to pull it off; which is often.

Independents

Vivi- Immediately offers to get you one that fits better. It doesn't offend her, more so it bugs her. Why would you wear something that gives you fits like that when you could easily get one that does its job better.

Ash- He has crazy, drunk fans in his club all the time. He's seen a lot more of people than a bra strap. In fact, he'll take the bra strap over any of the other things that he's seen.

Isaac- It depends. He thinks it's tacky but won't see it as much of a bother if it's just in passing. However, if you're with him or representing him in any way, he will promptly tell you to go fix them because then he feels that you are making him look tacky.

Beckett- You wouldn't think that he would notice because almost everything would still be business as usual. That is until one day you hear, "So, you're wearing the blue one today?"

Other

Ming Xiao- Won't say anything, but she will be judging. You don't look that perfectly put together 24/7 and not notice something like that.

Andrea- At least you have clothes. He's been the Arch Bishop of one of the most volatile places in kindred history, and coverage of any sort is not always a given with the ravenous, anger-ridden fledglings that he is often trying to corral.

Pisha- More boggled that you still wear a bra. There are so many, less restricting options out there for you to use. Even with this, she doesn't care what you wear really. Just giving you some food for thought since you were considerate enough to give her actual food.

Cain/ the cabby- What the hell is a brassiere?

Ghouls and Humans

Mercurio- For him it depends on how much he knows you. Doing the dirty work that he has both before and after becoming a ghoul, he’s seen a lot. But, there’s just something for him seeing it happen with someone that he knows that gets him flustered. He feels like he’s seeing something he’s not supposed to.

Heather- Why does that matter? Some shirts just show them reguardeless. She used to be worried about this because she came from a rather strict household, so it would have bothered her at some point, but not any more.

Knox- He honestly doen’t even know what that is. Is it a new style of shirt? Looks pretty cool, bro. Man, can he get one too so he can look as cool as you do?

Vandal- Hey, are those removeable? Can he have them? He needs something to strangle someone a few floors up and those fit the bill just perfectly. He’ll even give them back when he’s done because he’s just that nice.

Patty- Wow, she would never! She would say that she didn’t care, but wouldn’t drop it the whole time you were with her. At this point you have to let it stay down out of principle.

Romero- He would snap them as he walked by, but unlike Jack it would be really creepy and not in a fun teasing way. Just punch him really good, and he’ll stop.

Chunk- Uh, hey, there friend, are you aware that you’re a bit out of dress-code there? He’s going to have to ask you to fix yourself or leave. Sorry, just boss’s orders there, pal.

[bronanlynch]

weekly (monthly?) media roundup

ok so I do want to actually do these on some sort of schedule but unfortunately, as you already know, brains,

listening: Malice in Wonderland by Fangbanger, which I found from a tumblr post that described them as band for “if you have a complicated relationship with gender, had a falling out with god, hate the government, or just think that vampires are neat" and y’know? yeah. my notes on this song from several weeks ago are that I might not know any of these people’s genders but I do know they’ve listened to MCR

reading: the new Cassandra Clare book, Chain of Iron. it’s boring and homophobic. in the first book of this series, we find out that the heroine’s brother is gay and in a relationship with a man who has no intention of ever coming out publicly because 1) the book is set in 1903 in England, it was literally illegal and 2) he’s trying to have a career in politics. the heroine decides that this means he’s ashamed of her brother and doesn’t deserve him, and she is present and active in their breakup conversation.

above is the relationship chart I made from the first book, it really hasn’t changed much except now the main guy and the main girl are married, the lesbians got back together and then broke up again, the main girl’s gay brother hooked up with one of her husband’s friend, who’s a Good Gay and therefore worthy of love unlike the Bad Gay ex who is constantly mocked by just about every character for. checks notes. caring about appearances and manners given that his life and career are based on those things. the brother and his new love interest break up because the brother still thinks he’s a bad person for ever having dated his ex. also the main girl has now platonically run off to Paris with her husband’s platonic soulmate who is allegedly in love with her but it’s really unconvincing that he’s not actually in love with her husband (he’s not for very stupid lore reasons, the whole ‘parabatai are magically prevented from being romantically in love, except for these two straight people, when historically parabatai pairs were two men’ makes my fucking blood boil)

you might ask why I still read these books even though they make me angry and the answer is the 1) the aesthetic slaps 2) some of the characters are fun 3) the premise has enough potential that it could be good if it was good 4) sometimes I need to get cathartically angry abt bad fiction bc it just. does not matter

watching: so many things that I’m gonna just. run through them real quick

Word of Honor: gestures vaguely at how it’s slowly taking over my blog

Sleuth of the Ming Dynasty: love a found family, eh about the politics, can’t believe I predictably got a new fave character within the last two episodes of the show because one of the main characters is betrayed by his second-in-command and I think treason is the sexiest part of a relationship

SamBucky show: in the original draft of this post I said that it was so boring that week (episode 3) that I completely forgot about it until I saw the draft below this one talking about how bad and boring it is. at least more happened in later episodes and they’re finally giving me some tasty queerbaiting but the premise and the politics are. wow. it sure is military propaganda

My Hero Academia: new season is fun, love a tournament arc. don’t love that they tell us right away that the double agent character is a double agent, it was more fun in the manga when you’re not sure if he’s a traitor or not for a pretty long time

Welcome to Demon School, Iruma-kun: new season is cute, there sure is some gender happening. there’s a tsundere bisexual catgirl

Backflip!!: I usually avoid high school sports anime for backstory reasons but my roommate wanted to watch it with me and oh boy these gymnasts sure are gay for each other huh

Joran: The Princess of Snow and Blood: my roommate pitched this to me as ‘cyberpunk but in the 1930s’ and there sure is dark lighting, lots of glowy neon stuff, and government oppression, which are the most important elements of cyberpunk apparently. not sure how I feel about it yet, because there’s a cool shapeshifting lady assassin with a revenge quest but there’s also a trans character who was revealed to be trans in a way that I personally did not enjoy. yes you can have transphobic villains but like. hmm. maybe the audience shouldn’t find out that someone is trans because the villain cuts his shirt away specifically to ~put him in his place. or maybe I personally am just sensitive to that but either way no thank you

on the other hand, the main character is sick as shit

The World Ends with You: god I love an anime about the power of friendship. I’ve only had these kids for two episodes and I would lay down my life for them

Nirvana in Fire: we’re only three episodes in and I did spend the first half of the first ep being like. oh god which of these people are actually important who am I supposed to care about here. and then by the end of the first ep I knew which ones I cared about and am now very afraid for their safety. do love the political intrigue though

playing: got through the first mission of Brigmore Witches. I love a good undercover mission, I wish I hadn’t been too afraid of like. alarms going off if I freed the other prisoners because I think Comrade Daud should do a jailbreak, and Lizzy Stride can call me anytime

also recently have played various ttrpgs including Firebrands, more Things, Eldritch and Terrifying, Link, and of course more Beam Saber (oh shit I meant to do my recap post for last session OOPS)

making: Zan and I made some real good chicken parm the other night, vaguely based on this recipe. by which I mean, we looked at the recipe to see how many eggs to use and how long to cook it and pretty much nothing else. the egg marinade step seemed unnecessary and I made the sauce the way I always make tomato sauce, which some day I should write down because it does in fact fuck. the secret is a shit-ton of oregano and basil and no chunks of tomato because fuck that. bad texture

Zan made the zucchini which also slapped, using some of the leftover bread crumbs

writing: I’ve posted a couple of things but most recently I wrote some rarepair femslash. this is the first fic for this ship on ao3 and the second ship in the f/f tag for this fandom that’s actually about the women in the show (as opposed to showing up in the f/f tag because it’s marked as “multi” or like. genderbent versions of the main m/m ship) but like. look at them. they’re terrible evil assassin women and they’re in love. anyway I’ve gotten over being embarrassed about having written a sex scene and moved on to wanting people to read my fic. there’s sparring as foreplay it’s a good time

[leatherbookmarking]

bilboo replied to your post

“[[MOR] this is very ‘mortifying ordeal etc’ BUT that would come up...”

I literally can't wait to write this bc in my head jc's disciples and servants LOVE HIM, he is grumpy ALWAYS but he's also endlessly fair and doesn't suffer bullshit, everybody is treated so well at lotus pier I LOVE ONE ANGRY SOUR MAN

YESSSS EVERYTHING PRECIOUS ON EARTH FOR THE GRAPEBOY

and now i’m thinking about, for example, some important conference everyone has to attend (even though it’s basically glorified small talk, and everyone DREADS it aside from sect leader yao, who is finally allowed to talk, and not stop talking, and he has five days) so at some point the disciples gather and exchange juicy gossip talk respectfully about their sect leaders, and

“surely you jiangs have it tough, i mean no offense, but sect leader jiang looks like he’s permanently on a verge of a meltdown--”

“--right, i’ve noticed that too, and the way he’s constantly clenching his teeth? he must be very good at cracking nuts, and i admire that, but at the same time, i can’t help but worry--”

“--and okay, you can punish me for that (in fact look, i am punishing myself as we speak), but i mean, his life can’t be that stressing now, all the serious stuff is long since over, so... i mean, you know... kind of makes you think that all this tension...”

“...aah--”

“--is because he doesn’t have... you know”

and the jiang disciples are just sitting here like :-) because on one hand, their first instinct is to vehemently deny everything, how dare you;

the second is to give the others a knowing look, lean forward and spill some of the secrets in a stage whisper, let those other disciples wander around for the rest of the conference, take one look at the scary sect leader jiang and experience internal anguish knowing this ruthless man is in fact in possession of three spiritual dogs and one dog dog, named apricot, pear, hunter and persimmon, you’re free to guess which is which, and he takes great pleasure in flipping their ears, then telling them “your ears are flipped, you know?”. yes, there is proof, but you’ll have to ask a-mei in private, sect leader has forbade her from ever talking about it to anyone, and if he hears her laughing like that, he will know;

the third is to keep silent, because really, where does one start?

there was one little girl, a-ming, who was so bad at archery it seemed almost like a conscious effort (even though of course it wasn’t, she was too young for that). most of her arrows missed the target completely, usually landing in the grass, other disciples’ targets or, on one memorable occasion, almost in sect leader jiang’s own person, because he just had to be taking a walk right next to that disaster of a lesson. a-ming burst into tears before sect leader even managed to drop the hand he caught the arrow with; tears so miserable and dramatic that something must have cracked in him, because a second later he was next to her, talking so quietly you couldn’t hear what he was saying, but, if one can allow themselves to theorize, probably trying to prove a-ming that he is, in fact, still in one piece, so there’s no reason to cry like that, now. and then, once she more or less calmed down, he positioned her little hands himself, checked if she was aiming at her own target (she was not), assured her that it’s obligatory to be bad in the beginning, how else does she expect to become good, and then, in what must have been a flash of godly wisdom, asked her, “do you see that point in the center of the target?”, to which a-ming replied with the saddest silence imaginable, and every single adult present suddenly felt very, very stupid

for obvious reasons the jiang sect has many young disciples, also those helping w/ pretty responsible things, like Finances and Trade and all this stuff i’m scared of, and many of those disciples have shared stories of fucking up, thinking “oh, that’s it. i’m going to die OR i’m getting kicked out of the sect into next thursday OR both” and getting scolded but also... somewhat encouraged? they’re not sure in what way, exactly, since everything sect leader jiang said sounded angry, but... one man who missed a line in a list of things to be shipped out has been told “no, you’re not leaving this sect unless sudden death takes you, and in that case i’ll be dragging your ghost to work here, do you think it’s so easy to find a good accountant?” and realized a week later that, in fact, yes, the good accountant was him

literally everyone and their dog has heard a threat of physical violence of sorts, including but not limited to (insert bone) breaking, dismemberment, flogging (regular or a few round with zidian to help you find the motivation to (crowley voice) DO BETTER!!!), drowning, etc, etc but no one has ever received it, mysteriously

several times, when young-but-old-enough-to-know-better disciples have Spoken when it wasn’t really their turn/position/the TIME to say anything, sect leader jiang raised his head and said, slowly and quietly, what the fuck did you say to me? most of them, pale as a sheet, said that nothing, nothing and drowned in their own apologies. one girl, though, repeated what she said, assuming that well, if she fucks up, she fucks up with style. sect leader jiang looked at her, looked at the Papers, looked at her again, and said “you’re right. thank you”

she was later found stress-sobbing

she was, much later, awarded a Position

maybe it is not exactly a proof of sect leader jiang being a good person per se, but there are rumors of the faces he pulls and things he mutters when reading Important Sect Correspondence, and it all makes everyone have warm thoughts

on the other hand, the insinuation that sect leader jiang is a bitch because of sexual tension and no one to resolve it with is the funniest thing they’ve ever heard, so there.

[tosskah]

Pom Pom and Votes Chapter 6

Stupid Ming

AO3

Chapters 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

This is becoming a troubling pattern. Every interaction with Ty Lee seems to take over her thoughts. Now all she can think about is the kisses they shared when she dropped her off. How perfectly their hands fit together on the way out of cheer practice. The gentle, peaceful sight of her asleep on the couch. With so many exquisite sensations, how can she be expected to focus on school work? Azula has given up trying to fight it. Surely it’s a game Ty Lee is playing, but why shouldn’t she get to enjoy it? She’s never played a game like this before, and she has never had this much fun. Giving into the thoughts makes the day pass by blissfully quickly, although she doesn’t have a chance to run into Ty Lee until the dismissal bell.

“Hey!!” Ty Lee greets as she bounces into view. Her body stutters, as if she wants to move in closer, but she stops herself. Interesting, Azula smirks, opening her locker.

“Hey,” she replies, slipping into a larger smile without realizing. “Didn’t see you at lunch.” Her tone is inquisitive, rather than accusatory.

“I knooooow, I’m so sorry! I borrowed my friend’s notes yesterday, so I had to give them back, and then we got distracted talking and then I had like five minutes to eat, so!! How was your day?” Ty Lee is breathless in her excitement, and the way she looks earnestly into Azula’s eyes when she asks the question is almost enough to unbalance her. The look is so…. genuine.

“It was fine,” Azula shrugs, mercifully breaking eye contact to trade her last class’s books for her student council materials. “Classes were easy so I spent most of the day making sure I had everything ready for the student council meeting.” This is not exactly the truth. Classes were easy, but she definitely did not spend the day thinking about student council.

“Ohmygosh!! That’s right now, isn’t it? Are you excited? Are you nervous? Do you even get nervous? You seem so confident all the time!” Ty Lee has somehow become more enthusiastic.  Refusing to be swayed by the bubbly energy, she shrugs again and shuts her locker.

“I don’t think there will be any problems. The council will just be looking for me to tell them what to do, what to expect for this year. Should be easy enough,” she says, pulling back from the bank of lockers to head toward the student council office. Ty Lee naturally falls into step beside her, still carrying her books and nodding vigorously.

“Right!” she agrees, adding, “That will be easy! You’re good at telling people what to do!”

Azula mulls this for a moment, savoring the warmth of the compliment. The last compliment Ty Lee gave her was telling her that she was a good kisser. The memory makes her blush, and she fights the sensation. She can’t show up to her first meeting like this!! While she grapples with her feelings, Ty Lee fills the silence.

“Text me after so I know how it went, ‘kay? My sister won’t drive me home if I make her wait. But I know you’re going to be the greatest president ever!! They’re so lucky to have you in charge!” she beams and peels herself away, heading for the door. 

“I’ll text you,” Azula assures, watching her join the current of dismissing students.

Azula is the first to arrive in the student council room, as expected. She sets her leather folio at the head of the table and removes the copies of the agenda she typed up for the meeting. It is short work to flip through them and double check that she has the right amount, and by then other council members are trickling in. She greets them with a curt nod as she continues to prepare her materials. A few of the members speak quietly to each other and take their seats. No one fills the chairs closest to her, but she is used to that. By her count, almost everyone is present with a few minutes before the meeting is to start. It’s a good sign. With one minute before the meeting is scheduled to begin, the final member of the council swans in, phone to her ear. Her entrance is unmistakable as she bursts into obnoxiously loud laughter.

“Yeah, that’s so funny!! Anyway, I gotta go, I have a meeting. I’ll call you after. Bye!!” The newcomer disconnects her call and takes the chair to the right of Azula. All eyes are on the girl, though Azula’s are particularly narrowed. 

“Now that we are all here, let’s get started,” she begins, tone clipped. A few of the members further down the table wince. The phone girl snorts, prompting a sharp look from the president. Azula sets her jaw and passes the copies of the agenda down the table, making a point to start on the opposite side of the troublemaker so she will receive hers last. “Why don’t we go around and introduce ourselves and our position, and then we can go through the agenda,” Azula adds, pleased that everyone has seen fit to sit silently and await instructions. She gestures to the boy on her left, again ensuring that the troublemaker will have to wait until the end for her turn in the spotlight. She also doesn’t bother introducing herself. Everyone knows who she is and what she does. Azula half listens, matching faces to names and titles. The rest of her attention is spent monitoring the thorn in her right side. The girl’s name eludes her for now, which makes her even more frustrating. Her face is familiar in a bad way, but Azula cannot place her. At least she is enduring the introductions respectfully, other than fiddling with the corner of the agenda before her. Realization strikes at last. The reason this girl is so irksome is that she’s the same one that tried to get Ty Lee to go out with Ruon-Jian! Azula feels her anger flare just as the girl makes her introduction.

“I’m Ming, the treasurer,” she says, giving a half wave. The group returns their attention to their president, waiting for her to continue the meeting. Azula cuts her glare at the treasurer short and looks at the agenda as a distraction, taking a deep breath to collect herself. Ming does not seem perturbed to be on the receiving end of such hostility, which makes her even more annoying.

“Our first order of business needs to be the Homecoming dance, since it is only 8 weeks away,” she says smoothly, “I would like each of you to come with at least one idea for a theme by next week so we can secure vendors as soon as possible-”

Her commandment is interrupted by Ming, sighing loudly. 

“Something on your mind, Ming?” Azula’s tone is polite, but her eyes look fit to skewer her. The other girl pretends not to notice as she lounges in her chair, gesturing vaguely.

“There’s no point waiting a week to pick the theme. Why not just decide it now? Then we can get a week’s headstart on securing vendors.”

“If you look at the agenda for today, you will see that we already have plenty to cover-” Azula replies, the politeness sounding much more strained in every syllable. Ming’s response is a huff of disgust. Azula’s hand clenches involuntarily. “If you have concerns, Ming, let’s talk about them after this meeting so we don’t take up more valuable time.” She seals it with a smile that looks more like a baring of teeth. 

“Yeah, that sounds good. I’m not scared of you, so meeting one on one isn’t a problem,” Ming replies flippantly.

“Excuse me?” Azula snaps, pretending not to notice every other member of the council cowering.

“I said,” Ming draws her words out excruciatingly slowly, “meeting later sounds fine.”

“Thank you for your cooperation,” Azula says flatly, inspiring an eye roll from her rival. Without giving her another opportunity to disrupt the meeting, she pushes on with the agenda. It goes surprisingly quickly, although it might be because not one other council member can bring themselves to do anything other than nod minutely along with what Azula has to say. Their eyes are trained resolutely on the paper before them, as if any stray eye contact might earn some of her wrath for themselves. To be fair, they are correct. Ming contents herself with quieter sighs and gentler eye rolls, but doesn’t add any further commentary. The meeting wraps up five minutes earlier than projected, which is almost enough to put Azula in a good mood. The council members nearly trample each other in their eagerness to get out before another showdown can take place. Azula leaves her materials on the table. She isn’t going anywhere. She is ready for this fight, however long it takes. 

“So,” she begins, piercing Ming with a look, “do you have any more concerns?”

Ming counters with a shrug, though she can’t meet the gaze leveled at her. “Hey, just because you are the mayor’s kid doesn’t mean you’re the best fit for the job. I’m not just going to let you do whatever you want, unlike the rest of the council. Besides, do you really think you’ll have the time to give this job the attention it deserves?”

“What do you mean?” Azula asks, brow creasing. Why wouldn’t she have time?

Ming meets her eyes at last, replying, “Seems like you’re pretty focused on your dating life right now, that’s all.” 

Azula’s lips curl into a sinister smile. There it is, she thinks, satisfied. Ming is furious that I’m dating Ty Lee. “Unlike some, I am capable of focusing on more than one thing at a time. You’re friends with Ty Lee, right?”

“I am!” Ming responds instantly. Angrily. “I want what’s best for her, and there’s no way you can devote enough time to both her and this position!”

“Why don’t you let me decide what I can and can’t handle,” Azula replies, her voice a silken warning. 

“If you hurt her, your year is going to be impossible, do you understand? I won’t approve funds for any of your projects. You’ll be the most hated president this school has ever had. Put that on your fucking college application,” Ming points an accusatory finger at her.

“Noted,” Azula says, the picture of calm. She threads her fingers together on the table in front of her, showing she is above vulgar displays such as pointing. “Any other threats you want to make, or are we done here?”

“Whatever,” Ming mutters, snatching her backpack off the floor and stomping out of the council room. Azula watches her go, grinning. As soon as the treasurer is out of sight, Azula’s smile evaporates. This insubordination is going to be a problem, she stews, collecting her materials.

Azula makes it home in record time. That tends to happen when she drives while angry. Something about hearing the engine growl as it accelerates is soothing. It’s like the car is commiserating with her. The car also cannot be anything other than obedient, which is a relief after her meeting.

The house is deserted, as always, when she arrives. Well, unless one counts the staff, which she doesn’t. Her backpack is deposited unceremoniously in her room, where she proceeds to change into workout clothes. 

She is too keyed up from the confrontation. The only way she is going to be able to enjoy her evening is if she gets this energy out, and there’s no better way than to practice martial arts in the home gym. The room is cool in comparison to the rest of the house, and she loves the feeling of her bare feet on the springy mats that cover the floor. One wall is made entirely of mirrors so she can see her form and adjust as needed. A few padded dummies wait patiently in the corners, as well as a rack of free weights. Otherwise the space is wide open. She centers herself by drawing in a deep breath. The grating sound of Ming’s laugh comes to mind and she releases the breath in time with an open palm strike. Another breath, another strike, this time with the opposite hand. Her feet slide easily forward, advancing on her imaginary enemy. A feint at a low kick snaps to a brutal high kick, and she feels her agitation beginning to melt away. Seeing her reflection perform each precise move helps, but she is itching to feel her attacks deal some damage.

She drags one of the dummies out to the center of the room. It is vaguely humanoid in shape, and will offer some pleasing pushback when struck. Azula circles her opponent, hands raised in a guard. Her eyes don’t leave her prey as she waits for the perfect time to strike. There’s no need to glance down at her feet. She has practiced so much that it is as easy as breathing. Her forearm lashes out to deflect an imaginary punch from her left, allowing her the perfect opening to strike at the dummy’s unprotected neck. Stupid Ming, she thinks, hitting the dummy to punctuate each syllable. It becomes hypnotic, clustering her attack in groups of three. Stu. Pid. Ming. Stu. Pid. Ming. Stu. Pid. Ming...

Soon her hands are starting to feel pleasantly sore from the impact, and she feels other thoughts creeping in at last to replace the image of Ming’s insolent face. The fact that Ming’s protests seem to be centered around Ty Lee. Ty Lee… Azula’s concentration drifts, and she reverts back to a guarded stance, circling the dummy. She takes note of how hard she is breathing, but it’s a good sign. It’s why she came here in the first place, after all. 

Her frustration shifts stances as well, turning to an anxious twist in her stomach. Has Ty Lee been telling people we kissed? Do I want her to tell people? It’s not like I have anyone to share it with… Surely half the cheer team saw us walking out holding hands and can draw their conclusions from there. Ming has certainly been drawing her own conclusions. Azula interrupts her thoughts to deal a punishing kick to the dummy’s midsection. She imagines Ty Lee’s bubbly voice, introducing her to her friends, “This is my girlfriend, Azula!” and a strange, nervous warmth clamors from her gut to her heart. She’s never been anyone’s girlfriend before. Never wanted to, really. But the idea of that word, coming from Ty Lee, makes her feel….excited? Proud? It’s hard to name, but she likes it. And that would mean that Ty Lee is my girlfriend, she reasons, landing another volley of open palms on her opponent. When she checks her reflection to note her form, she catches herself with a sly smile. My girlfriend is a giddy thought that her mind won’t let go of. It’s invigorating, and she launches a fresh attack against the helpless dummy. 

But what if she’s not my girlfriend? The thought comes without warning, and she pulls back for a moment, feeling as though the floor has dropped out from under her. What if she doesn’t want to be my girlfriend? Her shoulders seize with tension. She did say I was a good kisser, her mind objects, desperate, And she wouldn’t have gone out with me if she didn’t like spending time with me. The dummy absorbs a handful of hits, swaying from the momentum. How am I supposed to know if she’s my girlfriend or not? Why is this so complicated?! 

Her opponent is wobbling dangerously now, and she backs off until it steadies. Azula’s breathing feels panicked, so she sucks in a slow breath to calm herself, assess her situation. I can just ask Ty Lee if she is my girlfriend and then there won’t be any confusion. The realization gives her a surge of energy, which she pours into a feint of a kick, before following up with a savage spinning kick with the opposite leg.  Her landing, as always, is perfect, and she walks away from the defeated dummy with a content sigh to return to her room. 

With a towel in one hand and her phone in the other, Azula realizes she was supposed to inform Ty Lee how her meeting went. Oh well, she shrugs, I can fill her in now. As she dabs the sweat from her face, she is shocked to see how many notifications are waiting for her- all from Ty Lee, of course. Anxiety forms a knot in her stomach. What if all these messages are berating her for not texting right after the meeting? What if she doesn’t want to be my girlfriend?  Azula fights the rising sensation of panic as she opens the texts.

👀👋Helllloooooo Miss President??? How was your meeting??👍

Wanna call and tell me about it💅 or do u have more ~official business~ tonite??

😱Oh no! I heard there was a little bit of a fight or something😓?? U okay??

😖I know ur probably just busy with ur important stuff but i’m worried🙀!! Txt me plz??🙏🙏

Azula releases the breath she was holding. Definitely not a tirade by any means, but she does feel a twinge of regret for forgetting to text after the meeting. Stupid Ming. But wait… how did Ty Lee already hear about the meeting from someone else? Surely no one would have posted about it online…. She quickly opens a flurry of apps, checking for posts from the council members. None of them strike her as bold enough to complain about the meeting with their name attached to the post, but she has to be sure. Despite a diligent search, she can’t find anything. She does notice, however, that Ty Lee has posted some new pictures and eagerly taps the link. She must’ve gotten bored waiting for me to text, she smirks. The expression falls immediately into a scowl as she clicks through the pictures.

While the first few posts are selfies, Ty Lee is quickly joined by another subject. Ming, posing with her arm around Ty Lee and their faces practically touching. ‘Selfies with my bestie!! #friends #bestfriends #selfie #bestfriendselfie #bestfie??’ is the caption. Azula is engulfed in a hot wave of anger as she sees picture after picture of the two of them smiling and posing together. Her knuckles are white around her phone and her jaw aches from clenching. 

How could I have been so stupid? She admonishes herself, flopping dejectedly on her bed. Ty Lee is clearly a master strategist. She will get close to me, since I have the most power, but she needs a back up plan in case I won’t give her what she wants. So of course she would cozy up to someone else on the council. Now she will have a mole inside the council as well.  I should have been able to see this coming. Ugh, why did she have to pick Ming?? Of all the insufferable people, Ty Lee picked the worst one!!! Azula heaves a sigh, and realizes it sounds just like one Ming gave during the meeting.

“Augh!!!” she groans, running her hand over her face. A very small part of her is impressed, though. Beneath that cute persona, Ty Lee is clearly very calculating. A worthy challenge… or ally, if I play this right. She takes a few deep breaths to  steady herself, then makes her way to the shower. She can’t counter Ty Lee in this state.

____

Soon enough, she is in fresh clothes and climbing into her car. The drive to Ty Lee’s affords her plenty of time to get her thoughts in order, so when she pulls up to the house, she is more than ready. She smoothly selects the cheer captain’s number and hits “call”.  

“Azula?? Ohmygosh, are you okay??” Ty Lee answers after one ring, and her tone is so convincing that it almost passes for worry. But Azula is too shrewd to fall for it. 

“I’m outside. Why don’t you come out and I’ll tell you all about it,” she replies evenly.

“What? You’re-- oh! Um, okay!! Let me just-- I’ll be out in a minute, okay? Bye!” 

Azula sets her phone down with a smirk. Spirits, she’s a good actress, she thinks, watching the front door. Ty Lee appears in an instant and bounds the rest of the distance to the car. 

“Hey,” Azula greets, watching her companion clamber onto the passenger seat. Ty Lee’s eyes are brimming with concern, causing Azula to marvel even more. 

“Are you okay??”Ty Lee asks breathlessly, reaching out to grip her hand, “I heard things got a little heated at the meeting and then I didn’t get texts from you and-”

“Who did you hear it from?” Azula interrupts.

“Well, Ming came over after the meeting and was telling me-” Ty Lee begins, but is cut off by a snort from Azula.

“So you’re just going to own up right away? That you had Ming report back to you? I was sure we would be dancing around that for at least 5 minutes,” Azula scoffs.

“What?!” Ty Lee sputters, her wide eyes the picture of innocence. Azula raises an eyebrow and waits patiently for an explanation. Ty Lee withdraws her hand and replies, “Ming wasn’t ‘reporting back to me’! She’s my friend, she just came over to hang out. She told me she had to stay after the meeting to go over some stuff with you, that’s all.”

“Did she tell you she told me I couldn’t possibly be a good president because the two of us are dating? As if having a girlfriend somehow takes up all my time and makes me unfit?” Azula fires back. She watches the other girl’s expression closely, looking for any clue that the term ‘girlfriend’ is unwanted or unpleasant. The only emotion on her face, however, is surprise.

“She said that?!  I’m sure she didn’t mean….: Ty Lee trails off, chewing her lip before continuing, “Ming has always been a really protective friend, so I’m sure she was just trying to look out for me…. But I’m sorry that she said that. I can, um, talk to her about that.” She pauses again, fiddling with the cuff of her sleeve. “Is that why you wouldn’t text me? Cause you were mad about what Ming said?” 

Azula considers this for a moment, then nods. It’s close enough. Ty Lee seems to be doing everything in her power to appear small and defeated. A clever tactic, Azula notes. The cheerleader’s shoulders are slumped and she isn’t even trying to put Azula off balance with direct eye contact. Rather than reach for Azula, her palms cradle her face. Ty Lee draws a deep breath before finding the words to say. 

“Next time…. Could you please, please just text me to tell me that? Or just… anything. ‘Hey, the meeting is over and I’m mad and I’ll talk to you later’ or something. Because. I thought. I thought something bad might have happened to you on your way home, like a car accident, or something. And I know that’s dumb to worry about, but it’s all I could think of, because you said would text me and then you didn’t. I was really worried! And then I was really surprised that you came over, and I thought it was a fun surprise that you had come to see me, but instead I’m like, getting yelled at over something that I had no idea about, and-” Her voice catches with emotion. For a moment, Azula thinks it might be real, not an act. “-and I don’t think that’s fair at all.”

Silence stretches between them for a long while. Azula isn’t quite sure how to respond. Being berated is something she is used to, but to be met with ‘I was worried about you’ and thinking her showing up unannounced could be a good thing… It’s truly impressive how unpredictable Ty Lee can be. These are kinds of battles she’s never fought before. It’s equally frustrating and thrilling. It seems the direct approach will not get the results she wants, so she must try something a little more discreet: kindness. It is a difficult path, however, because an apology is an admission of guilt, and she can’t give that kind of leverage.

“I can see that my actions have made you upset,” she begins, her voice more gentle than usual. Ty Lee straightens a little and chances a glance at her. “And that wasn’t my intention. I think my issues with Ming ended up with you caught in the middle, which isn’t what I want. I should have texted right after the meeting, like I said I would.” Azula reaches out, offering a hand for Ty Lee to hold. The other girl seems to think things over for a minute, but she tentatively puts her palm over Azula’s, and nods.

“Okay,” Ty Lee manages, her voice still tremulous.

“Okay,” Azula echoes, running her thumb over her knuckles. 

“I’m glad you’re safe,” Ty Lee adds, conjuring a weak smile, “But I should probably get back inside. See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow,” Azula assures her, offering a smile of her own. Part of her wonders if she might get a kiss for her efforts, but Ty Lee withdraws instead. Oh well, she reasons, watching her exit, I bet she is just stung because I won’t let her use her mole against me. Can’t blame her for that.  She puts the car in reverse and is basking in her satisfaction as she realizes that Ty Lee didn’t correct her when she used the word ‘girlfriend,’ and she doesn’t stop grinning all the way home.

[hemaris]

Hello I love your penumbra art and I showed some to my friend who finally started listening to Juno Steel and she said that she's been enjoying penumbra fanart but keeps on seeing fantastic Peter designs and then having to ask where his pockets are. This is not at all a criticism I just needed to share the thought because now I'm wondering too

OKAY THAT IS A GREAT QUESTION so here’s a trio of highly unlikely options for your consideration (put into fic format by someone who has little to no experience writing fic and is, to be completely honest, miles outside of their comfort zone):

nureyev’s pockets contain a - for the lack of a better word - pocket dimension

“You’re full of shit, Steel,” Vespa says. “If you wanna brag about sticking your hands down the thief’s pants, go find someone else to do it to.”

And really, Juno has been at the business end of Vespa’s blade before, but twice in one morning is probably a new record. He bristles. “Okay, first of all, would it really kill you to not wave your knife at me every single time we’re in a room together? Can’t we have one conversation where this doesn’t happen?”

“You started it! You got your finger all up in my face!”

“Yeah, well, my finger doesn’t have a long and celebrated history of gutting people when-”

“Keep it civil, sweethearts,” Buddy says from the other side from their makeshift recreation room, where she and Jet are playing a game Juno has never heard of involving a set of oddly shaped dice, some old Uno cards, and, inexplicably, a pineapple. Vespa moves to sheathe the knife, but makes a whole show out of doing it without averting her icy stare for even a split second. Juno has to suppress the fleeting urge to do something petty and potentially life-threatening, like sticking out his tongue at her.

“Second of all,” he continues, his voice only slightly lowered, “you asked! You asked me about Ransom’s - about his pocket situation, I’m just telling you what I know. And for the record, I never said anything about anyone’s pants. Or where I’m sticking my hands. Or, you know, whatever. Shut up.”

Vespa still hasn’t broken eye contact. “No, Steel,” she says, “I asked you how the thief managed to get an entire cupboard worth of Ming dynasty porcelain off of Titan and onto our ship. What you’re telling me is that he has magical mega pockets that are bigger on the inside, which isn’t a thing.”

“That’s what I used to think about teleportation, and mind reading, but here we are.” The truth is that the porcelain thing is a mystery to Juno as well. He has asked Nureyev, of course, but all he got in response was a that’s for me to know and for you to figure out, isn’t it, detective, which is more than a little annoying. “All I’m saying is that it could be an option. Don’t rule it out just yet.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Vespa says. “Ask him to pull, I don’t know, a live rabbit out of his breast pocket, and maybe I’ll buy into it.”

Juno has to roll his eye at that, and immediatey realizes he’s lost their little staring match. Not that it matters - the odds were stacked against him from the get-go anyway, with Vespa having a whole extra eye to look pissed off with. “Fine, whatever. But just for the record - have you seen a rabbit lately? Because I can guarantee you those things won’t go down or come out of anyone’s pocket willingly, regardless of pocket size.”

It might be a trick of the light, but for a brief moment, he thinks he sees the corner of Vespa’s mouth quirk up just a little.

a strategy once used by juno himself: Just Put It In Your Mouth! it’s mother nature’s built-in pocket!

“Uh oh,” Nureyev says once Rita has successfully hacked the giant metal door to slam shut behind them and they’ve skidded to a halt. He tentatively presses a hand to his throat.

“What- are you-“ Juno wheezes from where he’s doubled over, "Are you okay? They didn’t hit you, right?”

Nureyev makes a dismissive fluttery motion with his free hand. “Nothing of the sort.”

Juno squints at him, giving him a once-over, and seems to sag with relief once he sees Nureyev is not actively bleeding. It’s a little bit endearing, Nureyev thinks. “Okay, whew, good,” he says. “So then - what’s the ‘uh oh’ for? We got the blueprints, we-”

“Let’s say,” Nureyev interrupts him, “hypothetically speaking, that there was some ancient and priceless treasure in the vault we took the blueprints from.”

“That’s not really a hypothetical,” Juno says. “There was enough old Earth monarchy junk in there to bedazzle the entire Carte Blanche with.”

"Right. And now let’s say, once again purely hypothetically,” Nureyev continues, “that someone with only the noblest of intentions noticed the Koh-I-Noor diamond among that treasure, and that that someone decided to free it from the monstrously tacky diadem contraption it was stuck onto, because it’s a waste for something like that to be gathering dust in a vault.”

“You know,” Juno says warily, “I’m not sure I like where this is going.”

“The problem is that this outfit, while very stealthy, does not provide a great amount of secure pocket space, so i had to improvise.”

“Oh no,” Juno says.

“So I put it in my mouth, but then the guards arrived and while we were running I-”

“Oh no,” Juno repeats, a little louder this time. “Ransom, you - did you eat the Koh-I-Noor?”

“I accidentally swallowed the Koh-I-Noor, there’s a difference-”

“You ate it. You- Ransom, who would even-”

“Who would even what, Juno” Nureyev interrupts him, “There’s this old saying, something about a pot and a kettle, I believe.”

Juno’s comms crackle to life. “RIGHT,” Rita chirps loudly, “I know the both of you are very busy talkin’ about who ate a conifer and why - and i’m not judgin’, mista Ransom, you eat your greens however you wanna! That’s what my mom told me that time I dipped my green beans in marshmallow fluff - which I wouldn’t recommend, by the way, at least not with the beans, it was a WHOLE mess. Maybe with some broccoli, though, or baby carrots, or - anyway, what I was gonna say is they’re about to crack this door open, so I’m just thinkin’, maybe now isn’t the best time for this conversation?”

“He didn’t eat a conifer, Rita, it’s - actually, don’t worry about it,” Juno says. “Let’s get moving. I’m sure Vespa can figure something out to make you hurl the thing up again. But for the record, Ransom, don’t expect me to ever let you hear the end of this.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Nureyev replies. Juno grins a little, crooked and pretty, and Nureyev’s stomach almost somersaults enough to throw the stupid diamond out.

and lastly - why use your own pockets when you can use someone else’s?

“Nureyev,” Juno says against his neck, “can I ask you something?”

They’ve folded themselves onto Nureyev’s cot, neither of them up for more than just lazing around. Nureyev has been trying to study some floor plans for the last twenty minutes, but if he’s being honest with himself, he has no idea what building, owned by what person, built on which planet in whatever system he’s been looking at. He’s mostly been lost in thought, only grounded by the weight and warmth of Juno pressed against his side. He had thought the lady asleep until now.

It’s a little ridiculous, the effect his own name being spoken by Juno Steel has on him. He’s fairly sure that with Juno this close, he should be able to feel the shiver it sends down his spine, pick up on the stutter in his pulse. It’s okay if he does, he tries to tell himself, it’s okay, it’s only Juno - but at the same time Juno is infinitely, immeasurably more than 'only Juno’ to him.

“Of course,” he replies. “Anything, anytime.”

Juno hums. “Earlier, when we got back from the media bigwig backstabbing competition-”

“It was an award show, dear Juno.”

“I said what I said. Anyway, when we got back, there was something in my pocket that I definitely didn’t put there myself.”

Oh.

“A flash drive,” Juno continues, “that had the name ’M. Valderrama’ engraved into it. And a crazy amount of plastic rhinestones glued to it, but that’s not the point. I didn’t wanna risk it containing a virus and blowing up the ship, so I didn’t plug it into anything. But I did do my research, so I know Mignon Valderrama was at the backstabbing- I mean, the award show, and is the acclaimed director of titles such as ’The Notebook Part 44: This Time They’re All Ancient Mercurians’, the entire ’Ultra Magma Tsunami’ franchise, and the upcoming-”

“The upcoming blockbuster ’Cerebral Cephalopods: Rise of the Mathematician Octopi’,” Nureyev finishes.

Juno shifts against him. "Yeah, that’s the one. Didn’t know you were a fan.”

“Oh, I’m not,” Nureyev replies airily.

“Still,” Juno says, propping himself up on an elbow. “I have to wonder. How and why did mx. Valderrama’s flash drive, rhinestones and all, end up in my pocket?”

“Hmm. Would you believe me if I told you mx. Valderrama tripped, and the drive flew out of their pocket and into yours?”

Juno shakes his head. “C'mon, Nureyev.”

And for a moment, he hesitates. It’s not the best of stories. There’s no real noble, for-the-greater-good, Robin Hood-esque reason for him stealing the drive. He didn’t do it for the challenge, either - Valderrama might as well have presented it to him on a silver platter. Sure, he could make something up, spin a tale, make it sound big and impressive and sensible. But despite the alarm bells going off in his mind, he also thinks it might not be so bad to tell the truth, to bare his throat to Juno just a little. Of course, his own voice echoes, anything, anytime.

He sighs. “I might not be a fan, but I believe your secretary is. She’s been talking about those Magma Tsunami movies for days. They are horrible, by the way - she made me sit through two of them and I can’t believe I’m never getting those four hours of my life back. Valderrama should be liable for damages to my psyche. The drive, as you probably guessed, contains what I’m pretty sure is the final cut for whatever that octopus movie is supposed to be, so I snatched it up for her. My dress didn’t have any pockets, so I slipped it into one of yours. I must have forgotten to slip it out again.”

Juno frowns. “Wait - Rita? Did she ask you to? Because at this point i’m pretty sure she could hack into the studio’s servers in a heartbeat, and rip the whole thing-”

“She didn’t ask,” Nureyev says. “It was kind of a spur-of-the-moment thing. But she wouldn’t have been able to get her hands on this by hacking. Valderrama is famously paranoid about leaks. All of their works-in-progress are stored on only a handful of physical drives until the day of release. One of the drives goes into a vault with a nightmarishly difficult analogue lock, one goes to the executive producer, and Valderrama keeps one of them on their person at all times. I saw my chance, so I took it.”

“Huh,” Juno says, “that's… that’s kind of sweet of you, actually.” He prods Nureyev in the chest with a finger. “And very illegal, and you shouldn’t do it again. But still. That's… yeah. That’s sweet. She’s gonna be over the moon.”

That’s what he’d been hoping for. He smiles, shrugging a little. “We’re space pirates, Juno. Most of what we do is illegal. We got into the award party illegally, and for illegal reasons. Valderramma will make their billions with or without that drive. It’s just-” he sighs again, raking a hand through his hair. “Rita is very important to you, which - which makes her very important to me. She’s been there for you all these years, and she’s never been anything but kind to me either. I’m not trying to buy her friendship or her appreciation, I suppose I just… think she deserves something nice, especially if that something is within arm’s reach anyway. Even if that something is a movie about hyperintelligent squids taking over Mars’ moons.” He lets his head fall back into the pillows. “I know that might sound a little foolish.”

Juno leans into him a little more, cupping Nureyev’s jaw in his warm hand, looking a little bit puzzled and a lot fond. “I’m pretty sure you already know that I love your particular brand of foolish,” he says after a second.

And before Nureyev has the chance to think about what that means for too long, Juno is kissing him, wiping any semblance of thought from his mind.

[sheepsandcattle]

Chapter 27

It only takes a day or two for Jordan to get over what happened. It’s not even a week later, all of them sat around a table on the roof of Hoax, that Jeff tries to get him talking about it. It goes the same as just about every time Curly’s tried to do the same thing:

“You’re weirdly chill about the whole thing,” he’s saying now.

Jordan shrugs. “It’s done.”

“Like… Weirdly chill,” Dean seconds, but he’s shrugged off too.

Jeff huffs, dissatisfied. “It’s been less than a week and you’re back at work, are you dumb?”

Nothing.

“I can see the thing weeping from here.”

“Jeff,” Curly groans, but Jordan doesn’t even react, just begins to stand. “That’s fucking minging.”

“Break’s up,” Jordan grunts and, just like that, he grabs his beer and leaves the scene; back towards the bar where he’s scheduled to keep pouring drinks ‘til two.

It started with him laughing it off. Curls had driven him home, decided to stay a night or two in case he bled out or plotted to kill the bloke who stabbed him or summet equally stupid. Jordan had said “you’re mothering me,” as Curly ran about making coffee and moving pillows and replacing gauze. “I ain’t dying, Curls. Give it a fuckin’ rest,” he’d told him, and laughed as he said it. He’d winced right after, loud enough for Curly to hear it with his back to him (still working on that coffee) even after he tried to cover it with a sniff and a cough. “We’ve got bigger shit to worry about, like if I should cover it with a tattoo of your face, or Joe Strummer’s.”

Curls had snorted, shaking his head. “You aren’t funny,” he’d said. “Sit down, will you? And stop taking before you hurt yourself.”

“Nobody’s ever told me I talk too much before,” Jordan mused.

“I’m serious, Jordan. Stop acting like you’ve scraped your bloody knee and sit down.”

“Stop acting like I’m a fucking bitch,” Jordan has snapped, shutting him up.

“How’s he been?” Dean’s whispering, like Jordan could somehow hear them from all the way over there. He leans over the table, engaged, and it gives Curly a better view of the man in question, working way over Dean’s shoulder. “Normal?”

“Arsey,” Curls tells him in a grunt. “Just wanted to laugh it off at first, then he started playing it down. Now he’s always in a mood and rips my head off every time I mention it. I just feel so fucking guilty, and I know I should. The bloke was trying to buy from me, but. God, I wish he’d make it a bit easier on me.”

Jeff shrugs to Curly’s right and leans over the small circular table in a similar way to Dean. “He’s not mad at you. Probably embarrassed,” he suggests. “You know what he’s like: stubborn as fuck. Probably plotting how to fuck the guy up.”

“That’s not funny,” Dean scolds.

“I’m not kidding.” The man lifts his drink to take a short sip. “He’s as prideful as he is angry, you’ve seen it yourself.”

This has Curly’s attention returning from Jordan at the bar, to Jeff at the table. “What do you mean?”

“Well done,” Dean huffs. “Get him freaked out about one more thing, why don’t you, Jeff?”

Truthfully, he could have guessed that Jordan has a taste for revenge. He remembers how Jordan had told him in a round-about way that some of his past rivals were still in the picture. Curly has never dared ask any more about it. All he knows is that Jordan’s a product of his past and he’s not the type to let shit slide because of it. Just a week ago they spotted Jules in the bottom bar and Curly had to talk J down for forty minutes before they could get on with their night – and that only worked out because Jules had left by then. All that over a slur – go knows how far he’d go to get back at the asshole that sent him to the ER.

“I know he has history,” Curly confirms. “He told me about the gang shit-" Sort of. “-but he left it all in New York. Isn’t that proof that he knows how to leave shit in the past? That was ages ago – before you pair even knew him.” His friends exchange a look. “What?”

“You’ve only seen his best side, buddy,” Dean says.

“I’ve seen him stab a bloke.”

“Protecting you,” Jeff corrects. “He’s done the same thing for less.”

He gets a hard shove from Dean then. “Alright, that’s enough, Jeff,” he says with a glance towards Curly. “Ignore him. J’s not half as pissy as he used to be. He’s probably just trying to move on.”

Curly’s scowling though, looking between the pair as he asks, “what do you mean ‘same for less?’ In Brockton, you mean?” Maybe it was naive to think his boyfriend stabbing a bloke was a one-off.

Just as Dean exclaims, “no!” Jeff insists, “Of course,” before he adds, “stop sheltering him, Dean, he’s not a kid and he’s fuckin’ dating the guy,” with a roll of his eyes before he turns slightly to give Curly his full focus.

Dean seems to back down, slouching back in his chair and Jeff continues; “Listen, I don’t need to tell you that Jord’s a damn fucking good guy. He’s one of my best friends and if I thought there was a secret of his worth keeping, I’d do it – even from you. But it’s no secret that he acts on anger. He was protecting you when he hurt that guy and you know he’d do it again to any motherfucker that laid a bad hand on you.” He doesn’t continue until Curly nods and he’s confident that he’s being understood. “-But he was also settling a score. They didn’t come out of nowhere. There’s this guy--”

“Nick,” Curly recalls. Tell Nick that if I see any of you again, I’ll fuckin’ kill you. He remembers how Jordan’s face had changed into something terrifying when he spat that out. How he wiped the knife clean on his pants like it was nothing. “I knew that already.”

“Did you know he’s dead?”

He forgets to respond. Curly’s stomach suddenly feels heavy; his head light, as the implications in Dean’s question ring clear. He didn’t know that. He attempts to remain passive, leaning back into his seat again and reaching with a shaky hand for his drink. Curly takes a long sip whilst he waits for Jeff to go on, but he doesn’t. He’s glancing at Dean now like he’s only just realising that maybe it wasn’t his place after all.

“Well done,” Dean says again, quieter than he had last time. “I asked him about it, Curly,” he tells him, now that their friend’s gone quiet. Jeff doesn’t look remorseful – he looks satisfied if anything, as he sits back and watches Dean speak. “He damn near ripped my head off. It killed him to hear that we thought even for a second that he could kill somebody. I believe him.”

“Dead since when?” He forgets to sound passive this time.

Dean shrugs. “Since... Brandon was here – that’s when he told us, anyway.”

“Look,” Jeff cuts in. “I’m not saying it was him. I’m just saying that he knew how and when it happened.”

“Fucking hell, Jeff, you’re not very bloody convincing,” Curly points.

“Fucking right he isn’t,” Dean confirms. “Curly, listen. Jordan knows a lot of people. That’s all. He doesn’t know how to let shit go. He gets the wrong people involved with his shit. You think we’d have sat there with him just now, thinking he’d m—” he drops to a hissed whisper. “—Thinking he’d murdered someone? We’re fucking clean. You know we’re not like that. And I know you know he isn’t either.”

“All I was tryna say is that he acts before he thinks,” Dean reason. “He’s got beef with a dead guy in a gang – do you get that? That shit follows you.”

“Bit of feedback mate,” Curly begins, hissing back. “Maybe next time, open with summet like ‘Jordan’s never killed anyone but..’ yeah? Put me at ease a bit.”

By this point, all three of them are leant in, talking snappily – not that any of them notice until Jordan’s voice is pulling them out of the tight triangle.

“Fuck’s up with you guys?”

They all jump back, reaching for their drinks at the same time as they mumble “nothing” and “nowt” like it isn’t too late to act casual. His neck feels hot, worked up from the conversation and anxious from having been caught.

“… Right,” Jordan nods slowly, rounding the table to stand at Curly’s side, where he leans a hand on the back of his chair. “These assholes grillin’ you?”

Curly scoffs, neck arched to look up towards the man. “You’ve got no idea,” he tells him, trying his best to stay loose as he smiles up at the man.

J mustn’t notice, because he gives a small smile in return. “Well you’re in luck; I’m here to save you.” Curly frowns. “Apparently I’ve gotta go home,” he then tells him, rolling his eyes, and Curly’s on his feet so quick that the blood heating his neck shoots right to his brain.

“Why, what happened?” his eyes dart to the bandage on the side of J’s neck, and it’s funny how quickly your mind can just drift from your boyfriend’s possible murderous past when his own welfare is in question. It looks clean though, despite Jeff’s earlier joke.

“Nothing.” Jordan huffs, taking a second to glance between the other two men as he confirms, “I’m fucking fine. We’re quiet. We have four managers in. They don’t need me.”

“Hey, Charlie,” Jeff calls to a woman clearing glasses off the table beside their own. “Is he ‘fine’ or is he talkin’ shit?”

“He’s talking shit,” she responds without a second thought, then points towards Curly. “Get the boy home,” she demands.

Curly gives Jordan a look, raising a brow as the man continues to look irritated. “I’m knackered anyway,” he lies. “And these pair are doing my head in. Let’s go.”

“Asshole,” Dean mutters, but Curly’s already ushering Jordan away from the table.

***

“Are you alright?”

Curly must have been doing a good job of faking sleep because Jordan jolts a little when he speaks, eyes leaving the ceiling. He’s been like that since they got into bed; just lying there on his back, breathing heavily as he stares up at the ceiling. Curly wonders what’s got his breath so erratic and his brows furrowing like he’s having a row in his head.

The man opens his mouth to respond, but Curly cuts him off before he can. “I know you are,” he amends. “I know you don’t need me to take care of you, but. Are you alright?” He reaches out to touch the man’s face, fingers sliding over his cheek when Jordan finally turns his head to look at him.

“You always seem so… Angry,” he explains, his voice dropping to a whisper as he asks, “are you angry?”

Jordan takes a deep breath before he rolls onto his side, a hand landing on Curly’s waist to pull him a little closer. Curly ends up on the edge of his pillow, but he doesn’t mind. Jordan just nods.

“At me?” Curly doesn’t mean to sound so woe. He almost hopes he says yes – better to be angry at Curly than the guy who hurt him, if his conversation with Jeff and Dean is anything to go by. “Because he thought I was dealing?” He’s almost coaxing.

“No,” Jordan mumbles. “Not you.”

He slides in a little closer, from the edge of his pillow to the edge of Jordan’s, who tickles his back with the tips of his fingers beneath the covers. It’s the most tender moment they’ve had in a week. “At that bloke? Rory?”

The man shrugs. “Maybe. I don’t know.” His brows furrow like they had been as he stared up at the ceiling. “I keep replaying it in my head. I get so—” He shrugs again, his eyes cast somewhere over Curly’s shoulder, distracted by the thought.

“Tell me,” he whispers – wants to say help me understand, but he’s not sure Jordan even understands it himself.

“It was a cheap shot,” he says. “A dumb fight at a house party. He didn’t have to…” He shakes his head as he trails off.

It feels harsh, but Curly thinks maybe he might put things into perspective by saying, “isn’t it just the same as when you did it? To that guy in the street?” He gets no response. “Do you regret it?”

“No,” Jordan says quickly, the volume of his voice rising just a little with the speed of his reply. “That was different.”

“Because of Nick?” He hadn’t planned to bring him up – really, and when Jordan’s eyes return to him, it’s Curly’s turn to look off into the darkness beyond the bed. “Because of revenge?”

Jordan goes quiet again and rolls back onto his back where his breaths pick up again, just slightly. Curly’s not sure he’d have even noticed if he wasn’t listening out for it.

“I’m not trying to quiz you,” he tells him honestly, his knuckles sliding over the man’s jaw in an attempt to soothe him. “I want to understand.”

“So do I,” Jordan agrees, then goes back to gritting his teeth at the ceiling.

“Don’t try to get back at Rory.” The words tumble right out. “Please. He’s not worth it.”

Slowly, Jordan reaches up and takes Curly’s wrist in his hand. He brings his hand a little further up, to his lips where Curly thinks he will kiss him, but he instead just holds his hand there against his mouth, before he guides it away from him completely. Jordan drags his own palms over his face then, taking two long, deep before he crosses his arms over his stomach and asks point-blank, “when did you find out about Nick?”

He hadn’t realised that his request about Rory would hold such a clear connection to Nick’s death, but the fact that it quite clearly does for Jordan has his chest tightening up and his stomach hollowing right out. 

He’s done the same thing for less.

“Tonight.” There’s no sense in lying to him. In fact, the second he responds, Curly feels lighter. He hadn’t realised how wrong it felt to have made so many assumptions about his own boyfriend behind his back.

“Dean?” Jordan asks, and Curly nods. “I didn’t kill him.”

“I know,” he tells him, taking himself off-guard because, although he means it, Curly’s not sure even he realised it until just then. “I know you didn’t.”

“Th—” Jordan’s breath hitches. It’s a sight Curly’s never seen before – imagined, even – Jordan bringing a hand back up to his face to press his hand to his mouth.

“J.” He feels pathetic as he searches for something to say, because Jordan’s—He’s crying, pulling in jagged breaths beneath his palm. Curly pushes himself up, reaches out to pull the man’s hand from his face. Jordan lets him but is following his lead and sitting up, hanging his head between his shoulders before Curly can try to catch his eye. “It’s alright, whatever it—"

“They weren’t meant to fucking kill him,” he says between heaving breaths. “F-fuck, they—Nobody—” Jordan’s holding his head in his hands, shoulders shaking but he must be holding the sobs back because he barely makes a noise. Curly doesn’t either as he tries to make sense of his words – or rather find an explanation that isn’t Jordan knowing about it all.

The tendons in the man’s neck are straining and Curly dreads to think about the state of the other side, under the bandage, or the pain it must be causing him.

“Okay.” He nods as he slides a hand up to the back of his neck and into his hair. “Do you know who it was?” It’s so fucking stupid to ask – knowing that kind of information is dangerous, Curly knows that, but, as he looks at Jordan like this, doubled over and gasping for breath as he cries into his hands, it’s hard to believe there’s no explanation that excuses his involvement and makes it all make sense. He’s left in suspense though, feeling more and more desperate as he cards his fingers through the man’s hair and waits for him to catch his breath and calm himself.

“Some guys from New York,” Jordan finally says. “I paid them to… Beat him up a little. Get him off my back – the guy’s been on me since I left the city. Seven fucking years, Curly. And if I— Boyd would have killed me that night, I swear he would have. You too.”

Curly can only assume Boyd’s the guy who got stabbed – remembers what Dean had said about how Jordan was protecting him that night, but he was also settling a score. Jordan’s words are suddenly so rushed that Curly’s taking guesses at the gaps he leaves – like exactly who Boyd even is. A connection to Nick, he’d guess.

“Why?” He feels so daft and naive by asking it, but, “what’s worth going after you for that long? What is it that’s so bad but could be fixed by killing you?”

Jordan scoffs. “Nick—” He pauses to straighten up, wiping his hands over his face and glancing briefly at Curly before he looks down at his lap. He doesn’t hide his face now though, just casts his eyes to his lap. “He used to… He and my mom were together for a while, I think.”

Curly had expected drugs or gang crimes or something of the like – not an old stepdad. “You think?” 

“He—” Jordan shakes his head, sniffs. His hysterics are fading, and it’s almost like Jordan’s accepted the rest of the story. Has disconnected himself from all the emotion attached it his past. It’s just the present that he’s having a hard time with. “It’s complicated. Nick was an asshole. I barely even remember him, ‘cause my mom’s next… Guy, Marc – he pretty much chased him off the scene. But we owed him money,” he explains, and that makes a little more sense. Curls wonders what kind of boyfriend would give a mother and her kid so much grief over money. “Nick had a lot of enemies anyway. He was a joke but Marc was the real deal and he took it personally, so we were covered. But then, when things got fucked up with Marc… Well, we didn’t have any protection anymore.”

“So you left New York to get away from Nick,” he tries to follow.

“No,” he finally looks Curly’s way, seemingly forgetting the root of the conversation as he gets lost in the story. “Marc chased us out, he—” He looks genuinely remorseful now. “It was my fault, but that’s… Somethin’ else. Difference is, Marc only wanted us gone, but Nick still wanted his money, so we left, and he didn’t bother us for a while. And then I saw these two guys at the club one night; Boyd and Rick.”

“Was that them? In the street?”

The man nods. “I paid ‘em off as much as a could, but we still owed Nick… Fuck, thousands.”

Curly wants so badly to tell Jordan that there’s no ‘we’ – that he’s got no doubt that it’s Jordan’s mother that owes the money, and that Jordan just got dragged into it all, but then the man adds, “he’d have killed me for the sake of getting my mom’s fucking attention. She don’t even know he was around – I barely know where she is half of the time, never mind them.”

“So, you paid somebody to beat him up, like a warning? Where did you get that kind of money? How much would—”

“Just—” J shakes his head again. “The point is, I didn’t fuckin’ pay to get him killed. I just—fuck.” The realisation must dawn on him again, and something tells Curly that this is the first time Jordan’s really let himself take it all in. “I haven’t heard from them since – any of them. The guys I paid, Boyd or Rick.”

“Okay, so that’s good—”

“No Curly, it’s not fucking good because they killed Nick and I paid them! I—” He stops, snaps his mouth shut and arches into himself again. “Fuck, I’m sorry, I just. This shit can come back to me. So fucking easily. If they figured out who did it, they’d ask questions, it’d come right back—”

“But he has a lot of enemies,” Curls reads back. “You said that. Seven years is a long fucking time, J. I bet he’s got a lot of new enemies in New York by now.” Fuck knows if what he’s saying holds any weight, but Curly just talks and talks and hopes something sticks. “If anyone is questioning anything, I’ll bet they’re running ‘round in bloody circles. If it was them who killed him, it’s on them.” He knows rightly that Jordan has played a large part in it but— “he sounds like a fucking arsehole. He’d have killed you if you didn’t do it first. And me and your mum. You didn’t want him dead; I believe that, but he is and, love, it’s probably bloody good that he is.”

Jordan remains quiet as he lays back down. He lies on his side and Curly spots the orange-red liquid weeping through his bandage but says nothing, for now, instead lowering himself to lay beside him, pulling the sheets over them and hooking an ankle over the man’s leg.

The man nods, no longer looking away but instead directly at Curly as his fingers play with his hair. “I fucking hated him,” he tells him. “When I was a kid, he was...” Jordan huffs. “And now he’s dead, and it’s my fault, and I feel sick. I keep thinking of all the different ways I coulda fixed it instead.”

“Did he hurt you? And your mum?”

Jordan just huffs again, shifting until they’re sharing Curly’s pillow this time. “Stop tryna make me a martyr,” he tells him, hushed. “Don’t look for reasons to hate him. Let me be sorry.” Their noses touch as he closes his eyes, just a little too tight. “I am sorry.”

“I believe you,” Curly tells him.

It’s done. Jordan didn’t mean to do it. It was probably some freak accident where they guys went too hard -- if it was even them at all. J’s got a totally different life in Brockton. No visible ties at all. He pushes himself up again, eyes on the man’s neck again, too unsettled to start lying around doing nothing.

“Please let me change your bandage.”

Jordan hums as he gives a small nod. “Okay, once.”

One bloody problem at a time, he thinks.

[dizzidoom]

So, I’ve been a little obsessed with animal crossing lately. Who hasn’t, lol. But it got me thinking on how the bey characters would play the game. So here’s a stupid list I made. Enjoy~

Takao/Tyson is time skipping so he can get Drago. He’s also arguing with other bladers who do have him and refusing to give him up. Inviting everyone to his island constantly. He abuses the emote wheel. Max hordes the ugly villagers because he loves them and feels bad that people throw them away. His island is very brightly coloured and full of flowers. Rei/Ray’s island is a perfect zen garden. He traded a cat with Kai for Bianca and spoils her. He just needs to find Rolf and he’ll be perfectly happy. Kai’s island is just cats. He may or may not have actually paid real money to get Raymond. He won’t confirm or deny this rumour. Kenny has it all optimised. He has spreadsheets, island maps, the whole lot. He researched well before the game came out and has barely put it down. He’s even made a website to track turnip prices and such. Daichi is slow with the game. Taking his time, enjoying the relaxing nature of it... for like 15 minutes. Then he gets bored and does something else. He also has a Drago, much to Takao’s utter annoyance (and no. He won’t give the villager up) Hiromi/Hilary’s island is almost perfect. Just a little more landscaping by here, little more flowers there. Wait, no. Flowers would be best over here, that house should be down there. No. No, perhaps over here... Hitoshi/Hiro has no idea what the hype is all about but gets excited when he finds fossils. The owl is his favourite character and when he’s invited to people’s islands he goes to their museum first to see what they have. Yuriy/Tala with his village of wolves. Pristine island where everything has its place. Do not question his choices. Boris/Bryan has a messy island and weird blood splatters all over the place. His animals are barely talked too. He only opens his game up when Yuriy tells him to check his turnip prices for him lol Ivan/Ian likes to ruin other people’s island. He’s been banned from Yuriy’s after the axe incident. Sergei/Spencer doesn’t understand what’s going on but the music is nice and relaxing. He still has only one room in his house but he’s getting there slowly.

Rai/Lee gets a little frustrated with the whole ‘take it slow’ aspect of the game. It’s a little too slow at times for him (no-ones told him about time skipping yet). He also doesn’t like any of the lion villagers and wishes they looked as cool as the tiger ones lol Kiki/Kevin. Monkey island basically. He managed to horde as many monkeys and apes as he could because he has a brand he needs to keep up with. Sometimes joins Ivan in trashing people’s island. Stopped when he received a death threat from Yuriy. Mao/Mariah has the other cat island but there are a tiger or lion in the mix. She’s trying to make it look like her home village too. Getting close. Gao/Gary barely plays it. Mostly only when Mao prompts him to visit her island, or if Kiki makes him play. Micheal is a tarantula/scorpion hunting pro. He gears no hissing bug scuttling after him and has yet to be bitten. He also won’t admit it but the duck villagers are his favourite. (And yes, he has apollo. How could he not?) Emily helps Kenny out with his turnip database website. She also loves the alligator villagers and takes any people don’t want. And yes, she refuses to give up Drago to Takao and refuses to listen to the argument that Drago is a dragon, not an alligator. He’s classed as one online and that's good enough for her. Eddy has several scorpion statues around his island. He’s also tried to make the tallest island but found he can only build so high... So it’s a little difficult to get around his island for newcomers. Steve as you can guess, he’s got quite a few bull villagers. He also loves any jock villagers because they remind him of friends from his football team. And also, maybe a little like the All-Stars at times. Rick doesn’t care but it’s the easiest way to get in touch with Max right now. He refuses to let people visit his island coz it’s a mess, yet is too lazy to actually play the game and make it presentable. Ralf/Robert’s village is incredibly tidy. Like, a little too tidy. Trees are all in order. Flowers cornered off behind fences. The villager houses are all in neat rows. Untrustworthy friends are not allowed to visit lest they ruin his work. Johnny doesn’t give a shit but he really, really loves the bug lizard. So he only plays at night to hunt the tarantulas and scorpions so when Flick visits he can make the lizard super happy. He admits this to no-one. Oliver’s Island is a rose paradise. His little villager is dressed up like a chef most of the time. He also really enjoys the design feature. He finds the limitations a little exciting so can spend hours crafting masterpieces in-game. Giancarlo/Enrique likes to show off for his girlfriends and gift them too many bells and nookmile tickets. He does this to Oliver too, of course. He runs around with the mini crown on his head and loves to emote too much in Johnny’s face. Mariam wants shark villagers but understands it can’t happen. A girl can hope though. Instead, she just has them in tanks around her island and refuses to sell any she fishes up. Ozuma doesn’t care too much for the game. He likes the relaxing nature of it but the way the villager's talk can get on his nerves after an hour. Joseph’s villager has big creepy eyes and he likes to try and sneak on other peoples islands when they least expect it and stalk them. Dunga has an island full of ugly apes and he loves it. He traded for them fairly easily, obviously. Reluctantly gave Kai a cat villager for one too. Salima is really into making her house perfect. Each room has a theme and she’s been on twitter for hours chatting to others and visiting them to share DIY recipes or buy from their shop. Kane is oddly lucky at travelling to the rare mystery islands. Most of his bells are from the bell island if he’s honest. Jim charges a lot of bells or nookmile tickets to visit his island and sell turnips. He’s made more money doing that than actually selling his own turnips. Goki is a little too generous at times and always likes to help out other people. As a result, he’s not really managed to upgrade much on his island yet, but he’s getting there. Zeo doesn’t want to talk about Ribbot and Sprocket, and no you can’t have them, they like his island very much thank you. Queen and King cheat together. They go to people’s islands and scam them. Offering items for bells but quickly taking both when the items are dropped. Many of the other bladers now refuse to let them visit. Raul likes the horse villagers best but has only got one. He’s forever on the lookout for them. He is also afraid of the tarantula’s and is constantly being bitten by them. Julia is far more interested in making interesting clothes. She’s made nearly everything she’s owns so her in-game villager can match her all the time.  Mathilda is constantly catching the butterflies. She can’t get the hang of fishing but her insectopedia thingie is full for all the bugs she can get. She adores the Able sisters. Claude spends all his money buying stupid clothes for his villagers to wear. After seeing Giancarlo’s crown though he plans to buy one for each villager. If only he had the savings... Miguel’s island is like a beach resort. He also takes a lot of in-game selfies or stupid screencaps and posts them on twitter. Aaron loves fishing a lot. Like, a lot a lot. He has a room full of each fish he can get so Mathilda can take them one day to fill up her museum since she’s so crap at fishing.  Garland doesn’t care too much about the game. He plays a little each day, does the daily chores he needs to do and then stops. He does love to visit people and interact though. Will spend hours island hopping. Went to Yuriy’s island once and spent ten minutes getting smacked in the face with a net. He never went back. He hopes it was therapeutic for the Russian though. Ming-Ming owns nearly all the clothes. She has her team send screenshots every day of what is in their clothes shops so she can buy anything she doesn’t own yet. She may, or may not be a little obsessed with the animals singing too. Brooklyn refuses to weed and refuses to cut trees. He’ll hit them for wood, but if a tree grows it stays there forever. As you can imagine, it’s like a forest and hard to navigate. Except for Brooklyn. He knows his way. Mystel’s island is full of fruit. Like, it’s just fruit trees because he wants to always have some to give to visitors. There are also many rivers because who doesn’t like using the pole all the time? Moses/Crusher plays with his sister. He’s also currently being guilt-tripped by Takao to give up a Drago. But Drago really likes his island so how can he send the alligator away?

[pengiesama]

Dianxia Dotes Upon the Demon King (Fic, TGCF, HC/XL)

Title: Dianxia Dotes Upon the Demon King Series: Heavenly Official’s Blessing (Tian Guan Ci Fu) Pairing: Hua Cheng/Xie Lian

Summary:

After Hua Cheng's return, Xie Lian is determined to aid in his recovery, and maybe spoil him a bit in the process.

Hua Cheng is more than eager to accept, but could do without his obnoxious sword's interference.

Link: AO3

Read on Tumblr!

It had taken eight hundred years and one more for this sea to be filled. Filled with a collection of twigs and pebbles, cracked rice bowls and dented pots, of bobbing lanterns to light the path leading to the only destination Xie Lian cared to know: the tight embrace of Hua Cheng’s arms.

He had so much to tell his San Lang, so much to catch him up on, so many things he’d stored away in his heart to loose upon this day whenever it came. But he also had so much to hear from San Lang, and so many kisses to give. It was far too much for a little old god like himself to bear, and he felt his heart ache from the wondrous strain of carrying it.

“Gege,” Hua Cheng murmured. “You’re trembling.”

He was indeed, from everything altogether, but the chill night air was a factor to be sure. Xie Lian stilled Hua Cheng’s hand as it moved to slide his red cloak off his shoulders as an offering. He laced those fingers with his own, and guided them both upright.

His little mountain hut was humble, to be sure, but it was certainly more comfortable than rolling around in the grass all night. The bed-mat was – the bed-mat was comfortable enough, and – and just maybe big enough for two, if they pressed close…

Xie Lian felt his ears glowing red, and tilted his chin up to steal a glance at Hua Cheng. (Did he have to steal them, still? Would San Lang now allow him to take his fill?)

Hua Cheng’s handsome face was no longer smiling that sweet smile. He was instead glaring at the stewpot. Or maybe the individual stirring it.

“So that’s where you went,” Hua Cheng said darkly.

E-ming continued to stir the stew in the pot with his blade, the bells attached to his tasseled pommel jingling with each circuit made. He pretended to ignore Hua Cheng.

Xie Lian smiled at Hua Cheng brightly, and Hua Cheng’s sour look faltered.

“E-ming was all alone when you went away, and I couldn’t just let him fend for himself…” Xie Lian explained. “He’s kept me company. And is so handy around the house, just like San Lang!”

E-ming’s eye slit open, and he fixed Hua Cheng with a smug look. Hua Cheng’s sourness came back full force.

“Gege must have suffered so this past year,” Hua Cheng said. “But he needn’t trouble himself any longer. San Lang will handle all the chores from now on.”

E-ming gave a dangerous-sounding rattle, like a snake about to strike. He and Hua Cheng locked eye(s), ready to defend their claim to wait upon Xie Lian hand and foot by any means necessary –

“Absolutely not!” Xie Lian scolded. “San Lang won’t be straining himself any time soon, not after re-incorporating! In fact, he’s already done too much, too much!”

In one determined, fluid motion, Xie Lian hoisted Hua Cheng off his feet and slung him over his shoulder like a sack of rice.

“Gathering all those lanterns, climbing up this mountain,” Xie Lian continued fretfully. “You need your rest, and I won’t have you exhausting yourself for my sake when I’m perfectly capable of chopping wood and sweeping the floor on my own.”

Xie Lian crossed the room and easily tossed Hua Cheng onto the bed-mat – which he’d recently gathered some extra straw for, bless his intuition. Hua Cheng laid there where he landed, limp and sprawled out, staring up at Xie Lian with a mixture of shock and raw desperation. He looked almost like he was about to dissipate again. His poor San Lang! He was even more exhausted than Xie Lian had initially thought.

“Gege,” Hua Cheng croaked out weakly.

Xie Lian smiled at him gently. His hair was mussed, his robes also, from a day of work in the fields and from rolling around in the grass. He was tired, but his own exhaustion paled in comparison to the burning desire to care for his San Lang, to nurse him back to health, to spoil him as he’d longed to for this year and more.

His San Lang had had a hard life, a hard unlife. Xie Lian hardly considered himself worthy, but oh, he was so very full of love, and was so ready to give it to Hua Cheng.

“I’ll bring San Lang some stew in just a little bit,” Xie Lian murmured. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to Hua Cheng’s lovely pale forehead. “He can rest until then.”

E-ming rattled insistently, and Xie Lian glanced over in concern.

“Oh, E-ming, you’ve worked so hard today,” Xie Lian fretted. “It’s time for you to rest, too.”

He bustled over to grasp E-ming’s hilt and hoist him out of the stewpot. Black, viscous tar oozed off E-ming’s blade. E-ming’s eye blinked and batted rapidly, and his whole self trembled and rattled like a needy puppy pleading for his master’s pats. Xie Lian cooed and fussed and obliged, stroking E-ming’s hilt as he carried him out to the bathing tub.

“We’ll be right back, San Lang!” Xie Lian called over his shoulder. “We just need to wash up!”

He’d hardly drawn enough water into the bathing tub for E-ming alone when he heard a commotion from inside. Hua Cheng stood at the door, heaving for breath. He glowered at E-ming, who lounged in the tub, and returned the glare measure for measure.

“San Lang!” Xie Lian exclaimed. “I thought I told you to stay in bed!”

“In any other circumstance, I could not refuse such an order from His Highness,” Hua Cheng said. “But San Lang wants a bath too.”

Xie Lian gasped, and hurried over to hoist Hua Cheng over his shoulder once more.

“Ah! San Lang, you’re right, it was so rude of me to not offer! Here, you and E-ming can have the bathwater first, I’ll manage later…”

He lowered Hua Cheng to his feet next to the bath, and, driven by hospitality and single-minded determination, yanked off Hua Cheng’s clothes without another word. Hua Cheng’s corporeal form briefly flickered in and out of sight, and he stumbled on his feet enough to topple into the bath.

“Now, I have this oil that works splendidly to polish E-ming,” Xie Lian went on, dragging out a small basket of supplies. “Perhaps it’d work on San Lang’s hair, as well? Wouldn’t that make sense, don’t you think? San Lang?”

Hua Cheng made a gurgling noise that Xie Lian took as a yes, and got to work wetting and washing the vast expanse of Hua Cheng’s raven-black locks. This task engrossed him – even if it had not, he would not have been able to hear the private discussion that Hua Cheng and E-ming were having in their shared array…

MASTER IS INTRUDING ON GEGE BATHTIME, E-ming accused. MASTER IS TOO BIG, AND MAKES GEGE NOT FIT IN THE TUB WITH E-MING. MAKES GEGE HAVE TO WAIT.

This perhaps hit home, and Hua Cheng felt a pang of guilt. He would build a splendid indoor bathing area in Qiandeng Temple for Xie Lian’s private use. An outdoor one, too, complete with hot springs, and non-alcoholic drink service at a floating bar in the middle.

“Your Highness,” Hua Cheng said with effort, unable to speak clearly with Xie Lian’s hands tugging at his hair. “Please. While the water’s warm. Come in.”

“I wouldn’t want to squish you and E-ming,” Xie Lian said. “Don’t worry, I’ll manage.”

MASTER ALSO HOGS SPECIAL STUFF GEGE USES TO POLISH E-MING, E-ming continued in his accusations.

Has my long absence caused you to forget your place?, Hua Cheng replied. His Highness doesn’t need to rely on your questionable assistance any longer.

E-MING IS OF MOST ASSISTANCE, E-ming stated. E-MING CHOPS, AND STIRS, AND DOES NOT USE UP ALL THE SPECIAL STUFF. GEGE CAN POLISH E-MING TEN TIMES BEFORE HE IS DONE TENDING TO MASTER’S TASSEL EVEN ONCE.

Useless and an idiot, Hua Cheng said. His Highness is truly too kind to have taken you in.

BIG AND STUPID WITH TOO MUCH TASSEL, E-ming shot back.

Useless and an idiot and not even sharp enough to cut a rotten orange.

BIG AND STUPID TOO MUCH TASSEL AND DOESN’T EVEN WRITE GOOD!

In this arms race of progressively more childish insults, there could be no winner. There was only one thing that could stop it: the angelic tones of Xie Lian’s laughter.

“Ah! Ruoye, you’re tickling me! Did you want to have a bath, too?” Xie Lian was peeking up his own sleeve as Ruoye swirled around his forearms and biceps. “Come now, don’t be shy. You know San Lang.”

Ruoye shyly slithered out and into the tub, peeping once at Hua Cheng before dunking itself under the surface of the water and disappearing into the depths. Xie Lian began to hum as he worked, fingers deep in Hua Cheng’s locks, combing the oil in with careful passes.

It was bliss.

It was more than Hua Cheng could’ve ever dreamed of.

It was almost enough to stop him from continuing to argue with his useless idiot not-sharp sword for the remainder of the bath.

(Almost.)

 --

 After a delicious dinner – made all the more delicious by Xie Lian’s insistence on spoon-feeding Hua Cheng, and made into a transcendent dining experience by Hua Cheng’s successful gamble at pleading for Xie Lian’s lap as a pillow for his weary head – Xie Lian still failed to join Hua Cheng on the bed-mat. Drunk on power and love both, Hua Cheng was fully ready to pout and whine and plead for his gege to warm his poor frail San Lang, but was briefly distracted by a kiss to his forehead, his cheek, and then a hesitant, shy press of lips against his own.

“I’ll come to bed in a little while,” Xie Lian promised. “It’s time for E-ming’s lessons.”

Hua Cheng’s eyebrow arched so high that his forehead crinkled. Xie Lian giggled and kissed it again. If Hua Cheng’s heart still beat, it would have burst a thousand times over. Still, regarding the topic at hand…

“Gege is too kind to try and teach him anything,” Hua Cheng said. “Truly, anyone would have forgiven you for giving it up as a lost cause.”

Xie Lian blinked, then shook his head. “Oh, no, he’s a wonderful student. His calligraphy has come so far! Here, let us show you…”

Xie Lian grabbed a length of paper, and hung it from the wall – a blank scroll, ready to be written upon. E-ming floated over, hovering, waiting for his teacher’s instructions. Xie Lian tapped his chin thoughtfully.

“Today…how about a few passages from the Shan Hai Jing? E-ming’s choice of chapter.”

E-ming rattled eagerly, then flung himself to the ground to roll around on the wetted inkstone Xie Lian had provided for him. Once thoroughly covered, he launched himself end-over-end at the hanging scroll, and splatted against it with an audible sound. He pried himself off, shook off the remaining ink, and blinked once, twice at his handiwork before squinting and wiggling a delighted rattling dance.

 Three thousand ninety li farther southeast,

then northeast,

stands Departing-Doves Mountain. On its heights are many mulberry trees.

There is a bird dwelling here whose form resembles a crow

with a patterned head, white beak, and red feet.

It is called Jingwei and makes a sound like its name. 

 Not only was it legible, it was impeccable work. Even Hua Cheng couldn’t argue that. Xie Lian clapped at E-ming’s little dance, and gave him a kiss to his hilt as he floated close and seemed to plead for it.

“Of course, of course, good students get a hug and a kiss,” Xie Lian assured him, and wiped off a smudge of ink from E-ming’s blade with his thumb. “Now, four more repetitions and it’s time for bed…”

He’d been born a lowly peasant, illiterate and uneducated. He’d had to twist Black Water’s arm (literally) to force him to teach him the basics of reading and writing, back in the day, and it still didn’t come naturally to him.

Hua Cheng was never destined to be a good student. No, he was destined to be a bother and a pest.

And every part of him was alight with the determination to be just that.

“Gege…” Hua Cheng said in plaintive tones. “Can’t San Lang join class, too?”

E-ming’s eye narrowed at him.

MASTER DOES NOT EVEN KNOW THE CLASSROOM READING LIST.

Don’t I? Oh, I think I do.

MASTER IS A LIAR AND A CAD.

Yes, of course, the Shan Hai Jing; my favorite part is when the wicked Demon King wins the hand of the beautiful prince in marriage, and they ride off into the sunset on a giant flying fish…

E-ming rattled furiously. NOTHING NO PART NOT ANYTHING NOTHING AT ALL IN SHAN HAI JING ABOUT MASTER AND GEGE AND A FISH!!

Xie Lian was too delighted at the idea of teaching Hua Cheng to notice the renewed battle of wills, and was already at Hua Cheng’s bedside with paper and ink and brushes.

“I’d love to have San Lang as a student! Of course, we’ll have to get you up to speed with E-ming, but San Lang is so clever, and such a quick study…I know he’ll be just as good a student.”

Hua Cheng leaned in, smiling wide. Xie Lian looked up to see his face just an inch way, and flushed a deep red.

“Good students get a hug and a kiss,” Hua Cheng cited his teacher’s words from earlier. “What do bad students get, I wonder?”

Xie Lian studied Hua Cheng’s face for a moment or two, considering.

“Ruoye,” he said quietly. “Go tuck E-ming into bed in the other room.”

  (Hua Cheng did not ride off into the sunset on a giant flying fish, but, well. It sure was something.)

[rkwon]

DE:CODE IS LIVE: HAPPY MILO DAY! 🎉 JULY 17TH, 2020  •  43 MINUTES

he isn’t sure what’s worse — the nagging guilt and greed that both a fanmeeting and a vlive for a forgettable recently-debuted idol is far too much, or the small yet persistent voice in the back of his head that tells him no one will show up, that anyone who does is just waiting for him to do something stupid. the little live icon mocks him as he shuffles in his seat, leans in closer to see the details of the livestream. the viewer count jumps from zero, to a hundred and beyond, but what he’s most concerned about is the speed the comments move and how small they are. he retreats, resting his back straight against the back of the chair and pulling the sleeves of his jumper down over his palms before he waves.

“hello,” he greets, quiet and shy. his cheeks are a soft pink and it’s likely the tips of his ears are, too, though conveniently hidden by his overgrowing, curled hair. “I’m de:code’s milo. ah, force of habit. my name is in the live title, right?” his laugh is airy. “it’s my birthday today.” he continues, letting the any and every thought that comes to mind roll off his tongue. “thank you for all the well wishes! I saw some of the comments on social media— well, I saw lots of cake emojis. this is the first year I haven’t gotten to eat mum’s cake on my birthday. ming— magnus’ mum always bakes each of us a cake on our birthdays, but I was so busy today that I couldn’t go home.” he sits forward once more to read what he can of the fast-paced comments. “oh! don’t worry, don’t worry. we’re going home over the weekend to see his parents, so we’ll have cake then! I’ll bring slices home to the dorms for all the members.” 

he pauses to read again, clearly struggling even when he moves closer. he’s long-sighted, but the font is so small that it’s hard to see regardless. “did the members get me anything?” he reads with a tilt of the head. growing up, won rarely received presents on his birthdays. sometimes he’d get a little cash from his parents, or a hand-me-down, until he met mingyu and thus began the traditions of spending as much of the day with the kims as possible. though he still doesn’t think too much of material gifts, he cherishes the thought each of them have always put into choosing something for him — either for its sentimental value, love and effort put into creating them, or relevancy to his interests. he chuckles to himself as he remembers the time mingyu bought him two bottles of coca-cola knowing he had been craving it but unable to afford any. “so far, a.c’s gift is top of the ranking. when I woke up for practice this morning, he gave me the biggest hug before I could even make it to the bathroom to start getting ready. I think it’s going to be tough to beat cute cuddles from our youngest.” he teases, concentrating so hard on reading once again that his phone vibrating on the table just out of frame startles him. 

he glances down to check, unable to hold back a grin. his eyes trail back to the camera, lips pursed, then to his phone as he picks it up. “magnus just texted me. he’s watching from the dorms; everyone say hi!” he waves. “he’s nagging me. he’s telling me to put my glasses on, but I don’t have them with me...” a pout tugs at his bottom lip. “I’m long-sighted!” he answers when he spots the question before it scrolls off screen. “ah, he text again. he asked me where they are. ah... I think I left them on the bedside table. it’s fine, though! I can manage; I can see! I always take them off to sleep so they don’t get broken— but then I forgot to pick them up before I left earlier. this is my tmi for the day.” he laughs, leaning forward again. a few notes about wanting something more interesting for his tmi catching his eye. honestly, he isn’t really sure what constitutes a tmi in the first place — he’d just heard it around on other idols’ vlives and broadcasts. still reading, he hums to the beat of another buzz of his phone. “ah, he’s good to me. magnus is coming to deliver them!” he sucks in a deep breath, resting his chin against the palm of his hand, his elbow propped on the table. 

“oppa, why do you look so good? hyung, what should i eat to look like you?” he reads, chuckling loudly until his nose starts to crinkle. “cheetos.” he answers simply, still eyeing the comments. “they’re my favourite snack. I would always try to save up my allowance and treat myself to a bag when I could.” more messages flood in about which flavours, about other snacks he enjoys and what his favourite food is, but won catches one about his voice that makes his cheeks flush so bright that he instinctively leans back in the hopes that it becomes less noticeable. “to the person who said they loved my voice and that it was one of their favourites, thank you! that’s an honour... just in de:code, we have so many talented vocalists. I’m happy that you enjoy my singing. or is it my talking voice?” he all but giggles. “I’ve been told since my early teens that I have a really deep voice. I might get in trouble with him for telling you this but I always thought it was just in comparison to mingyu — his voice dropped after mine even though he’s a little older. I thought my voice can’t be that deep, but it really was all that time.” he hums, noticing a surprised question. “mhmm! I used to be taller, but now mingyu has a few centimetres on me. a lot of the de:code members are either very tall or very short. even though I’m tall, almost everyone around me my whole life has been taller than me. mingyu’s step dad is taller than me, too. I’m not tall enough! I want a couple more centimetres but I think it’s too late for me now...” he pouts once more, but it doesn’t last long. “did it hurt when you fell from the sky? did it hurt when you did?” his counter is embarrassing but he’d have had that same red tint to his cheeks either way so why not? 

i entered for the chance to come to your birthday fanmeeting but i didn't get chosen ): but i am glad you are doing a vlive and that i can still see you on your birthday. i hope that you've had a very enjoyable day, milo, i love you 😭 happy birthday!! 

“ah, that comment disappeared before I could read it out loud, but I saw it! thank you! I’m sorry there wasn’t a chance for you to come to the fanmeeting; I’m glad I could do a vlive for anyone who couldn’t make it. I was really surprised, actually. I was... kind of worried no one would come.” he laughs now, but he almost hadn’t slept last night stressing about it. perhaps it still hasn’t quite sunk in yet that he’s really an idol — in one of the top five companies, no less. “you can thank magnus when he gets here for persuading me to do both the fanmeeting and this vlive. I really wanted to do the vlive especially, but I was worried I wouldn’t be very entertaining. are you having fun?” his grin is probably a little too hopeful, but his viewers at least humour him. “you are? that’s a relief. but... should we listen to the music? what songs are everyone listening to lately? I’ve been listening to ‘love is the way’ by red velvet a lot.” he begins to sing a little as he scrolls through the music player on his phone, periodically glancing back up to catch a few comments. 

however, he squeaks when the door to the practice room clicks open suddenly. 

“ah, my knight in shining armour!” he’s all sparkling eyes and wide grins as he looks at mingyu off camera, arms raising to grabby hands at the glasses case in his boyfriend’s hands. “my glasses! oh, how I’ve missed you.” it takes an embarrassing amount of force to prize open the case as mingyu busies himself taking off his jacket. he pushes the frame up his nose, blinks a few times to adjust to the change. “that’s so much better. gyu, come sit with me.” he pats the chair beside him he’d saved just in case anyone popped in. he suspects seonho will bounce in later ( literally ), though he had hoped mingyu would come to lend him a hand soon after he started, too. said jacket is draped over the back of won’s chair, though he doesn’t realise until he feels the weight of the fabric brush his arms. he barely has chance to turn around before mingyu’s arms hang around his shoulders, pulling him back towards his chest. they sway, left to right to left to right, to the rhythm of mingyu’s gentle “happy birthday to you”, won’s grin growing to crinkle not only the bridge of his nose but the corners of his eyes, too. he’s still in a daze when he gets a birthday kiss to the cheek, mingyu finally taking his seat. 

“hello!” 

dumbly, won replies, “hi,” then realises, “oh, you weren’t talking to me— that’s embarrassing. a-anyway, what were we talking about? oh! songs. what songs you’re listening to lately. what have you been listening to, gyu? ah, I don’t think all of you have been listening to gorilla twenty-four-seven. you can tell us the truth, you know, we won’t tell anyone! it’ll be our little secret. shh.” once mingyu’s settled, he answers.

"if you have been listening to gorilla twenty-four-seven, though, I would like to personally thank you... but also encourage you to take a break to listen to to you 2020 by teen top and o sole mio by per_se." won hums in agreement, turning back to the comments. 

“someone else just said o sole mio, too.” he tries to point it out, but the message is long gone before he can even raise a finger. “you guys are so fast... there’s so many of you here.” there’s wonder in his voice, disbelief at the numbers displayed in the top left. are that many people really watching him sit around? and sending him that many hearts? he almost feels like crying. “I’m really bad with technology.” he admits, trying unsuccessfully to scroll back to some older messages before mingyu gently nudges his hand aside to take over. “our manager had to set up the live for me. he asked me what emojis I wanted in the title and I didn’t even know what to answer. I only know like, five emojis, and the cake one just makes me hungry.” he hums, patting his stomach once, then again for good measure. “what I mean is if I don’t see your comment, it’s probably a combination of bad eyesight and the speed the little feed moves, please don’t feel disheartened! keep sending it if I haven’t answered! w-wait, will they get banned for that? is it spam? word it differently each time!” he advises, though truthfully, he has no idea how it works. 

eventually, he spots one he feels he has to address, even if he isn’t too sure how best to answer it. “do I have any tips for someone that wants to be an idol...” he reads. “I know it probably feels a little like a boring answer and a given, but hard work absolutely pays off. also, if you don’t pass an audition, it does not mean you didn’t work hard or aren’t talented; there’s so much more to it than that. the casting agents might be looking for something specific for a group already planned out, for example.” for a moment, he pauses, purses his lips as he tries to piece together the words he’s looking for. “I think you should always be yourself and make yourself proud. your time will come; the agent or company that sees your worth and potential is the one you want to work with, anyway, right? practice as much as you can, but practice healthily and enjoy it. if you’re not having fun, take a break. it’s important to pace yourself and be good to yourself. there were times before I went on the mgas where I didn’t dance for weeks because I wasn’t in the right head space, but when I came back to it, I wanted to put more into it because I enjoyed it again and missed it. don’t build a bad relationship with performing. do it because you love it. a-ah, I think I got a little off topic there. do you have anything to add, gyu?” he smiles at his boyfriend as he begins to speak. 

“hm? oh... yeah! don't give up. I know that's probably irritating to hear after a while of trying as hard as you can, but I know how easy it can be to get disheartened. if it's really what you want, you can take a break if it'll help, but get back up and keep fighting for it. sometimes, doubt will make you think that it's pointless and that you should settle for something more ‘realistic’, and other people might urge you to, too, but don't listen to any of that. if you know in your heart that you can do it and it's truly what you want, don't let anyone or anything beat that dream out of you. you can do it!” 

for a little while, they continue to answer questions he spots in the comments — ones they realistically can answer, anyway. too many people are asking about a comeback or upcoming plans and he’s almost certain they aren’t allowed to even hint at anything or face their company’s wrath. between telling everyone for the tenth time that he rooms with seonho and mingyu, his curiosity gets the better of him as he eyes the bag mingyu brought with him. 

“what else did you bring?” subtlety hasn’t really ever been his forte. “you brought a whole bag with you just for my glasses?” his voice has dropped to a mumble, but it’s likely viewers can still hear him. the stream is the furthest from his mind as mingyu smiles and reaches for said bag, dragging it closer and as his hand delves inside, won’s neck cranes to see. 

“stop trying to peek, it's supposed to be a surprise!” won huffs as mingyu laughs fondly. “I brought you a birthday snack, too, in case you were hungry. you're welcome.” 

he should be embarrassed by the gasp that parts his lips but at the sight of cheetos ( and other snacks, but cheetos! ), his image is long forgotten. “ah, kim mingyu... once again my knight in shining armour.” he teases, fingers itching to tear open the top of the packet. “I haven’t had cheetos in a long time even though they’re my favourite.” he tells the camera. “I know earlier I said that to look like me you have to eat cheetos and that’s true, but I don’t know if any of you watched us on the mgas in season four but... I was very small. my height hasn’t changed; I’ve long since stopped growing.” he pouts shortly. “but I was very thin. I started working out with mingyu when we signed to royal and eventually some of the other trainees when I got more confident. these days I could bench press mingyu! I’m telling you! I had to stop eating cheetos, though, so you have to let me know if it was worth it; do I look good?” briefly, and embarrassingly, he flexes one arm, losing what little cool he had at mingyu’s over-dramatic ‘woah!’ and amused chuckle. “a-ah, n-no, don’t ask me to prove it. you just have to trust me!” he giggles, finally popping the first cheese puff into his mouth. 

“I want to play a game, but I don’t know what we can play with everyone. someone suggested we watch videos of ourselves on youtube, but I don’t think I’m quite used to seeing my own face in public yet.” his laugh is gentle and his cheeks pink. “maybe next time. leave suggestions in the comments and we’ll prepare something next ti—” 

his squeak gets caught in his throat when the door flies open, mingyu’s hand patting his back to help him catch his breath again. seonho’s bouncing over in all his glory, a shit-eating grin on his cute face. his arms wrap around his shoulders as mingyu’s had not too long ago and won can’t help but smile. “another very special guest.” the comments explode, ‘maknae on top’ filling the screen and won’s nose wrinkles in another laugh. he pulls mingyu’s chair closer and nudges his boyfriend to the side so that the three of them can fit across two seats, seonho settling in beside him to respond to comments with them. periodically, he offers the two cheetos, watching secretly with a hungry stomach as their hands dip into the bag. 

he doesn’t realise quite how long they’ve been live until someone says they have to go to bed to get up early in the morning. his eyes widen at the forty minute timer on the display and with a small content sigh, he turns to each of the boys beside him. “I think it’s about time we rounded this live off, right? it’s getting late and everyone should be getting plenty of rest.” with waves and a chorus of ‘bye!’s and ‘sleep well!’s, mingyu and seonho are out of frame for won to say his final goodbye for the night. 

he clears his throat, leaning in a little closer and adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose. “everyone, I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for coming to spend my birthday with me, whether you came for five or forty minutes.” his smile is gentler than it has been the entire stream, his teeth just starting to show. honestly, he never believed today would go so well and he’s relieved that mingyu was able to persuade him to do it at all. he had been stubborn, stuck in his insecurities and worries, but he felt good now — like floating on a cloud high above the sky on a fair, lightly breezy day. “I’m so grateful for every second we spent together. I’ve had some really strange birthdays over the years,” he chuckles, “but this is definitely one I’ll never forget. it’s been an incredibly happy day; I hope you’ve all had just as wonderful of a time whatever it is you’ve been doing. plus, it’s friday! the weekend starts now, huh?” he purses his lips, then hums. “make sure to get lots of rest and stay healthy so we can keep meeting like this, okay? thank you again. goodnight, everyone! thank you for all the birthday wishes! bye bye!” he waves and waves for a good thirty seconds as the comments roll in to say goodnight in return. “a-ah, guys— how do I end it?” with a pair of laughs off camera, the live cuts off.