#kernel don't look

[cliban]

Hey Jojo fans! Everyone who's arguing about Dragona's gender should probably take a look at Polynesian concept of gender, please! Dragona is clearly poc and might be one of the 'third genders' in various Polynesian cultures (very common - fa'afafine, mahu, etc)

Everyone's arguing this very european interpretation of gender and I'm not impressed :/ lets be mature about this and wait for more episodes and for fucks sake stop slapping gender labels onto a person we've known for One Manga Chapter

[world-smitten]

I’ve just started My Liberation Notes and I have A LOT of thoughts.

1) Park Hae Young writes embarassment as a constant. Not for comedy, not in grand dramatic gestures, but in just little incidents that chip away at her characters’ dignity. And it’s unending. The scene where Gi-jeong blabs about how much she hates dating single fathers in earshot of a single dad and his daughter, whose mother then stumbles in drunk. Mi-jeong’s work getting audibly passive-agressively criticised at work (and her and the other introverts getting lumped together on a table during lunch). Du-hwan’s rejection story. It was the same in Another Miss Oh and My Mister - constant humiliation was so embedded in the character writing that it made both shows extremely difficult to watch. I dropped Another Miss Oh (the show was loud and honest - too honest, I couldn’t stand it), and My Mister was an incredibly hard watch in places. It was as if simply being Dong-hoon (and being Oh Hae-young, for that matter) was a deeply embarassing experience, and I guess in that sense, his arc and the arcs of all the other characters is about regaining dignity, and the struggle that that journey takes. I don’t know if I’ll be able to finish MLN, because this kind of constant humiliation - a strange sense of awkwardness in one’s own skin, a sense of embarassment in your own state of being - strikes too close to home. But, if the show’s structure is anything like My Mister, then I’m guessing things will have to get much worse before they get any better.

2) I love the “after-work club” subplot - it’s an “after-school club”, but for adults, and you HAVE to join one, even though it makes no sense and the point of being an adult is supposedly more freedom. It’s so childish and insipid, but it keeps popping up because it’s been proven to “increase productivity” and heaven forbid you have other priorities besides work. The irony of an adult job handholding its employees through every social interaction.

3) Mi-jeong eating, getting a bit of food on the corner of her mouth, and her co-worker reaching over to wipe it off and call her cute loudly to the whole table while Mi-jeong smiles blandly - ouch. Ouch, ouch, ouch. Maybe I’m projecting too strongly onto this, but it really hit home. The well-meaning condescension from more extroverted people, who see you more as a cute thing than a real person (or at least, feeling like you’re just a cute thing to well-meaning extroverts). One thing that I do appreciate about Mi-jeong’s introversion is that she isn’t anti-social or even necessarily shy (introversion =/= shyness, which so many online folk can’t get). She’s well-liked amongst her colleagues - she’s just more reserved, more private, with less patience for office culture. She’s not superior to them - the desires for dating/connection that they flaunt loudly are desires she expresses quietly to herself (daydreaming about a future lover/soulmate to keep herself going - haven’t we all done that at least once?). I like to contrast that interaction with her co-worker to that moment she shares in the restaurant with Hyeon-ah. Besides being beautifully shot, it’s so nice to see Hyeon-ah reflect on herself whilst also uplifting Mi-jeong’s qualities - (paraphrased) “your words are worthwhile, because you don’t waste them, and I hope that you never change that about yourself.” And then, “I was like you in another life, and decided to live recklessly now. You were like me in another life, and decided to quietly now”. This is a more honest exchange between the two - there is no inherently better way of living/being, Mi-jeong’s reserve is not something that needs to be trained out of her (it’s also decidedly not “cute”, in the condescending sense of the word) and Hyeon-ah’s extroversion is not something to resent her for. I really like Hyeon-ah’s character - like the others, her life is also full of its little degradations, but she takes it on the chin and is unashamedly herself.

4) This is linked to no.3, but PHY seems to like two character types - those who quietly suffer through their solitude (Mi-jeong, Mr Gu, Tae-hoon, Dong-hoon, Ji-an) and those who wear their hearts recklessly on their sleeves and whose open vulnerability somehow makes them more lovable (Dong-hoon’s brothers, Hyeon-ah, Oh Hae-young). Interestingly, Chang-hee and Gi-jeong don’t fit into this neatly - they wear their hearts on their sleeves, but I haven’t warmed up to them yet. I’m still trying to figure out why.

5) Was Kim Ji-won always this good?? 

[hua-fei-hua]

the main reason i don’t take “i’m a native speaker of the source language” as the be-all, end-all for translation arguments in fandom specifically (as in, between fans who are not professional or even hobbyist translators) is bc, well. sometimes.......... native speakers............ are bad at their own language, too.

[snipefr]

all 3s :0

[gonzodangerfeels]

Nothing like that fair trance. You are like almost dating by the end of the night with the eye flirting

I wondered why you wouldn't just talk

Just walking laps around 4 cubicles at the end

Me: just smiling bashfully after the third lap.

You Grab the girls arm you are with and run away

[steddiealltheway]

It had started out as a joke.

Okay, well Steve is pretty sure it started out as a joke to alleviate some of the anxiety before facing Vecna.

It was an innocent joke, too. Or somewhat innocent considering it was made right before they were just going to kill Vecna and maybe die in the process.

Eddie had said, "Hey, Steve?" And when he turned around, Eddie asked with a teasing smile, "A kiss for good luck?"

And Steve, in front of Robin, Nancy, and Dustin with an axe on his back, had just shrugged and walked up to him, planting a kiss right on his lips and lingering for a few seconds before pulling away. He whispered, "Good luck." Ignoring Dustin's whispered what the fuck.

"Make him pay," Eddie had kind of mumbled out in shock, and Steve just nodded, turning back to find Robin's jaw dropped. He just gave her a look that said What? It could be the end of the world. Sue me.

She had just raised her hands in defense while Nancy tried to hide a wide smile.

Later when Steve found Eddie's lifeless body in Dustin's arms, he didn't hesitate to press his lips against his again, trying to breathe life into him. When Dustin shouted something about feeling a pulse, Steve lifted Eddie up like he weighed nothing, and marched him to the gate, determined to save him.

After he was placed in a hospital bed next to Eddie, he was chastised a bit for working through the adrenaline and straining his own wounds while carrying Eddie. But Steve didn't care that it meant it would take a few more weeks for him to completely recover because Eddie was alive. And that's all that really mattered.

The first time Eddie went to physical therapy, Steve smiled at him and asked, "A kiss for good luck?"

Eddie laughed but reached out for Steve who bent over and pressed a soft kiss on his lips. It felt different this time. Less like the world was ending and more like a promise that everything would be okay.

Even after Steve was discharged from the hospital, he would come back for Eddie's physical therapy, offering a kiss for good luck before waiting for him to come back and tell him about the progress he was making.

But as his physical therapy sessions decrease as he gets used to his scars and new limitations, Steve finds himself still lingering around him.

He thinks Eddie notices. With the way he lingers around Steve as well, sneaking glances at him every so often, eyes dipping down to Steve's lips more often as he talks, he's sure Eddie knows what's on his mind.

So, it's really not a surprise when one day Steve, Robin, and Eddie are hanging out and Robin backs up with a piece of popcorn in her hand, she says, "Go long," to Steve, and Eddie asks, "A kiss for good luck?"

Steve doesn't hesitate to give him a quick peck before turning back to Robin and gesturing for her to toss him the piece. She frowns momentarily before tossing it.

Steve is almost upset when it lands in his mouth because it means no more chances of a good luck kiss.

But Eddie just smiles and says, "Maybe our kisses really do bring good luck."

Steve can't help but laugh a bit and nudge his shoulder as he grabs a piece of popcorn out of the bucket and leans back to toss it in Eddie's mouth.

Eddie leans forward this time, and Steve kisses him sweetly before pulling back and asking, "Ready?"

Eddie nods and opens his mouth, catching the popcorn easily.

Steve thinks that maybe their kisses really do bring good luck.

When Steve turns to Robin with another kernel, she jokes, "As long as you don't kiss me." But there's something in her tone that lets Steve know that they're talking about this later.

And soon, Eddie is leaving, and Steve can't help but kiss him again saying it's just good luck for the drive back to his new trailer. And of course, it's dark out, so maybe Steve puts a little more into this kiss than usual before they're both pulling away, breathing heavily into the small shared space between them. Eddie says, "Good luck here," before kissing Steve again and turning quickly to leave.

Steve lingers for a moment in the doorway, making sure Eddie drives off safely before closing the door.

"What the hell was that?"

"Jesus, Robin, how long have you been standing there?"

Robin crosses her arms. "I literally hugged him goodbye right before you two decided to make out in front of me. And since when has that been happening, dingus?" The hurt in her tone is loud and clear.

Steve leans back against the door with a sigh. "We've been doing the good luck kiss before all his physical therapy sessions. It's not a big deal though. It's just good luck. And tonight was the first time we've kissed for something other than physical therapy."

Robin's eyebrows furrow. "Steve, at one point he had PT three days a week. And how many sessions did you miss?"

"None," Steve confesses quietly.

"Oh my gosh," Robin says and walks to the living room.

"It's not like that!" Steve argues, following her.

Robin turns around and says, "Yes, it's not like you two have kissed multiple times for the past few weeks just for 'good luck' and nothing else."

Steve sighs and crosses his arms. "It's exactly like that." He pauses and looks away. "Okay, maybe I'm a little kiss-starved, but it doesn't mean anything!"

Robin worries her bottom lip as she stares at Steve looking conflicted. "Have you ever thought that maybe it might mean more to Eddie?"

Steve freezes before shaking his head. "It doesn't."

"Steve-"

"It's just not like that between us, okay?"

Robin stares at him for a few more seconds and quietly says, "You know that it's okay if it is, right?"

Steve nods, not really taking the words to heart. He doesn't feel that way about Eddie. Sure, he likes kissing him and seeing the way he lights up right before they kiss and the way he lingers after but...

It's just not like that.

Steve sighs and looks down. "I'll let you know if anything changes though, okay?"

"Okay," Robin says, sounding a little more satisfied with his answer. "Now you have to help me with my romance problems."

Steve sits back as he listens to Robin rant, trying to ignore the way she still associates him and Eddie with something romantic. And really the kisses are... they're just for good luck... Right?

-:-:-:-:-:-

Steve thinks that maybe the kisses are less for good luck the next week after he starts hanging out more and more with Eddie. They've started asking, "A kiss for good luck?" for just about everything - Eddie getting up to get him and Steve two Cokes, Steve grabbing a blanket for them to share, every time they say goodbye, when one of them shifts on the couch or bed to get more comfortable. Anything really.

But now the good luck kisses are no longer verbally prompted. Sometimes, Eddie will look at Steve, and he'll just know he needs the good luck. Or sometimes Steve will look at Eddie, feeling a random need for good luck.

Usually, it never goes beyond the intensity of their first goodbye-good-luck kiss. And they have a mutual silent agreement to have no good luck kisses in front of the kids. Robin is fine - although that comes with a question about his feelings and whatnot which Steve actively likes to avoid.

It's not like he's in denial about the fact he enjoys kissing Eddie. He's just very much in denial about how much he likes kissing Eddie, and he would like to keep it that way until Eddie finds someone else or ends this... whatever they have.

Unfortunately for him, he's forced to think about it when he gets a little too careless during a movie night with The Party.

Everything was going fine really. Steve had even managed to slip three good luck kisses to Eddie when the kids were away from them. And really, they both needed it because dealing with the kids was sometimes hell.

But Steve really had no excuse when he sat down next to Eddie and openly kissed him in front of all the kids. He only realized his mistake when he pulled back and noticed Eddie staring at him with wide eyes.

"Uh, what was that?" Max asks, looking somewhat delighted at the new development.

Steve quickly explains, "It was a good luck kiss."

"See! I told you guys I wasn't lying!" Dustin shouts excitedly at everyone.

Steve and Eddie turn to give him an unimpressed look at the same time.

Dustin holds his hands up as his voice gets a little higher. "What? They didn't believe me when I told them about it before."

"Okay, now we believe you, but what was this good luck kiss even for?" Will asks.

Eddie shifts next to Steve uncomfortably, but Steve easily answers, "Good luck with dealing with you guys. Plus, I needed good luck getting comfortable."

"Good luck getting comfortable?" Lucas clarifies slowly, not even trying to hide his smile.

"Yes," Steve says exasperatedly. "Now can we watch this movie?"

"Are you two dating?" El asks.

Steve tenses up and glances at Eddie.

"No," Mike says, tone dripping with sarcasm. "Friends kiss each other all the time for good luck."

Will shoots him a look. "When we were just friends, didn't you literally ask me for a good luck-"

"Hey," Mike says with wide eyes as he turns red. "Not helping."

"We're not dating," Eddie states and starts the movie, "But we are watching this movie."

Steve feels his heart sink at the confirmation. Why the hell is he so upset about Eddie telling the truth? Because that's exactly what it is. The truth. They're not dating so Steve isn't allowed to get upset.

For the rest of the movie, Steve tries to get into the plot, but he can't when Eddie is sitting right next to him, reminding him of what he said.

When the movie ends, Steve immediately gets up and starts cleaning up the mess left by the kids and hurries off to the kitchen to work on the mess in there too. He needs to call Robin.

He scrubs at the countertops and half-heartedly waves at the kids when they yell their goodbyes and rush out the door. He gets stuck at one spot on the counter that won't give and scrubs at it harshly until a hand rests over his.

"Hey," Eddie says softly. "You okay?"

Steve slowly turns to face him and lies, "Yeah. I'm fine."

Eddie's eyes lower to his lips momentarily, but he doesn't lean in. "Are you sure?"

Steve nods in response and turns back to the counter.

"Um, good luck with this."

"I'm going to need it," Steve says, leaning in to stare at whatever is stuck on the counter. He pauses when he realizes what Eddie just said and turns around. "Good luck with the kids."

"I'm definitely going to need it," Eddie says dramatically huffing.

"I could take half of them, you know."

Eddie shrugs and moves closer to him. "Or you could do something else for me."

"Yeah?" Steve asks with a smile, "And what's that?"

"Give me some extra good luck."

Steve snorts as Eddie smiles brightly at him. But he wraps his arms around his shoulders and says, "Extra good luck coming right up."

And this kiss... it feels... different.

It starts out sweet and slow like usual, just a soft press of their lips together before they readjust to get a better angle. But Steve remembers the extra Eddie requested and runs a hand through Eddie's hair, pressing in closer. Eddie's hands wrap around his waist as he turns and presses his back against the counter.

Steve breaks the kiss with a gasp, needing more air and filled with slight shock as all his feelings for Eddie suddenly rise to the surface. He pulls back to look at Eddie for a second, taking in his blown pupils and pink cheeks as he whispers, "Jesus H. Christ."

Steve doesn't waste a second before he kisses Eddie again, immediately deepening the kiss but cradling Eddie's face in his hands, trying to offset the desperation of the kiss with the gentleness of the touch. He wants to let him know we have more time now. Unlike their first kiss, and unlike any of the other ones that Steve couldn't suck it up and admit were real, this is the start of something new. Something-

A loud car horn goes off outside causing Steve and Eddie to break apart, but they linger in each other's arms, both staring, knowing they have more to say but not the time in this moment.

"I have to go," Eddie whispers.

Steve nods, but neither of them moves.

The horn goes off again, and Steve reluctantly moves away, grabbing Eddie's hand to drag him to the front door. He waits a second and says, "Eddie..."

"I know," Eddie says and leans in to kiss him gently. "I'll be back, okay? As soon as I drop the little demons off."

The car horn goes off multiple times in an obnoxious rhythm that Steve guesses is Dustin's own creation. He kisses Eddie on the forehead and opens the door. "Good luck."

"God, I'm going to need it."

Steve watches as Eddie jogs to the van yelling, "I'm coming! I'm coming! It's not like you guys are near your curfew so zip it!"

Steve smiles as the van takes off and Eddie blows him a dramatic kiss.

As soon as they're out of sight, Steve races to the phone and calls Robin.

"Robin speaking," she answers, sounding as if she wants nothing to do with the call.

"Hey," Steve sighs with relief.

"Thank god. I thought you were going to be some telemarketer or something. What's going on?"

"I have feelings for Eddie," Steve confesses immediately.

There's a rustling sound and Robin sighs, "You finally realized it."

"Shut up."

"You know I'm right."

It's true, but Steve isn't going to admit it.

"So, what made you realize?" Robin asks.

Steve leans back against the counter. "He told the kids we weren't dating which I couldn't let go because it hurt so damn much. Then, I kind of figured out when I basically stuck my tongue down his throat."

"Gross. You know I hate that phrase," Robin complains.

"And that's why I say it," Steve says with a smile that slowly turns into a softer one as he thinks about Eddie. "I think I'm going to ask him out."

"I wonder if he'll say yes," Robin jokes. At least, Steve hopes she's joking.

"That's a joke, right?"

"Yes, dingus. I'm pretty sure you guys have been sort of dating in the form of excuses this whole time."

"Don't make fun of us."

Robin snorts. "I'm not, I'm just stating the facts."

Steve sighs, trying not to give away again that she's right.

"I'm happy for you guys," Robin says with an obvious smile that Steve can hear. "And thank you."

"For?"

"Realizing it before I had to knock some sense into you."

Steve rolls his eyes affectionately, knowing she can probably tell even over the phone.

"And for telling me. Which hey, how are you feeling about it?"

Steve shrugs. "I mean, I'm scared, you know? None of my relationships work out, and I need this one to be different."

"I think it will be, but I was more asking about how you're dealing with the knowledge that you like guys."

Steve huffs, "Yeah, I'm not dumb. I knew I was attracted to Eddie, I just didn't want to get emotions involved. I thought you knew this."

"Hello, I'm the same person who couldn't tell that Vickie was into girls as well."

"That's true," he shifts the phone to his other ear and says, "God, I can't believe we're having this conversation over the phone."

"I prefer it to the dirty Starcourt bathroom floors."

"I don't," Steve says with a fond smile.

"Eliminate all the trauma before that moment, and yeah, maybe I do prefer it. Even on the floor."

"I can drag you into the Family Video bathr-"

"Not a chance, dingus," Robin says immediately.

Steve laughs and pauses before saying, "Thanks for letting me take my time to figure it out. Sorry that I was kind of an asshole before."

"You're always kind of an asshole. It's part of the charm."

Steve smiles and says, "Well, then I'm going to be an asshole and tell you I have to hang up, so I can prepare for this life-altering moment."

"Gosh, you two are both so dramatic. You're absolutely perfect for each other."

“Goodbye, Robin,” Steve sighs.

“I would wish you good luck, but I’m not there to kiss you!”

Steve groans as Robin laughs. “I’m hanging up.” He does just that after he hears Robin shriek with more laughter.

She’s never going to let him live this down. (Not that he minds really.)

When Eddie comes back later, the first thing Steve says is, “I need a major good luck kiss.”

“For what?” Eddie asks with a small smile.

“So this really amazing guy will say yes when I ask him out.”

Eddie smiles and wraps his arms around his waist. “You think I’m amazing?”

“So presumptuous of you, assuming I’m talking about you,” Steve jokes.

Eddie raises his eyebrows.

“Okay, yes. I’m talking about you.”

Eddie smiles and says, “Well, I don’t think you need any good luck then.”

“Yeah?” Steve asks with a smile so wide it almost hurts.

“Definitely. But I’m going to give you some extra good luck just in case.”

Steve kisses him with a smile, pulling back immediately to ask, “You’re saying yes, right?”

“I thought I said I was giving you extra good luck first.”

“Eddie.”

“Yes,” Eddie replies and frowns. “But now what am I giving you extra good luck for?”

“Us? Or maybe we could just call it making out.”

Eddie makes a face and sticks his tongue out. “Bleh, no. No making out in this relationship. Just extra good luck giving.”

Steve laughs and leans in. Giving his boyfriend as much good luck as he can.

[youraverageaemondsimp]

A Helping Hand. // Virgin!Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader, MODERN AU [ONE SHOT]

MDNI.

Summary: it comes as a shock to find out that your extremely attractive best friend is still a virgin! So you offer to help him lose it to which he agrees to, unbeknownst to you, he was secretly in love with you, are those feelings reciprocated? // based on this request

WARNINGS: unprotected p in v sex, handjob, blowjob, orgasm denial, virgin!aemond, multiple orgasms, teasing, tiddy sucking, oral (m.), pussy slapping, cumming inside, premature ejaculation, some fluff at the end + not proof read.

WC: 2.6k

You were currently lying on the sofa with your best friend Aemond, watching a movie but it was so boring that you both engaged in a conversation which revealed something you had not known about Aemond, despite being friends for almost two years.

“Wait what?! You're seriously a virgin?” you yell when, shocked at what Aemond had just revealed, he looks away shyly and feels a little embarrassed, you quickly regain your composure, immediately noticing how his face dropped when you were shocked, likely taking it in an insulting way.

“Don't get me wrong- Aemy, but seriously? You're literally the hot shit, I can't believe you haven't gotten with anyone, do you know how crazy popular you are?” you try to show him that you didn't mean it in an insulting way, but just complete shock considering how beautiful he is.

He looks at you in confusion and shakes his head.

“Oh seven hells, you dense dumbass.” you huff crossing your arms, “Literally there's so many people fawning over you! The girls from my uni class? Everyone! Even one of my friends used to have a crush on you. I had to listen to her constantly ramble about you.” you explain.

“I never really focused on my surroundings that much, and I didn't really think I would stand out.” you dropped one of the popcorn kernel into the dish, shocked at what he had just said.

“You've got to be fucking kidding me! Seriously? 'I didn't really think I would stand out' my gods, you are literally so perfect! Your unique features, your purple eyes and platinum blonde hair are features I would die to have! You're so beautiful.” you mock what he said before you compliment him and he gives you a shy smile after chuckling at the way you quoted him, with a high pitched voice.

“Thanks.” he says and you nudge him with your elbow, “Seriously though, never thought you'd be a virgin, I thought you'd at least would've gotten with multiple girls, or boys.” you shrug and he purses his lips, “I think you are confusing me with my brother.” he says and you laugh, “Yeah right! I never expected the younger brother of the literal fuckboy of KL university to be a virgin, thought that you'd follow in his footsteps.” you joke around, and Aemond scrunches his nose, “I have no taste for such depravity.” he says, tone serious before you both burst out laughing, “Whatever you say baby.” you wink at him jokingly, calling him baby. He smiles at that and stares at you.

Just then a loud screen erupted from the TV screen and you were focused on the movie once again, watching intently while chewing on popcorn.

But Aemond didn't turn his attention back to the movie, he watched you, the way the light emitting from the TV bounced off your lights and face, giving you a certain type of glow, the way your lips were pursed and eyebrows furrowed as you watched the screen, clearly affected by a scene that bought out that reaction from you, but he didn't care to look, he preferred to stare at you.

Aemond Targaryen was in love with you.

You didn't know that.

You and Aemond had shared classes but never really interacted with one another, until you were late to class one day and found all the seats occupied besides the one next to Aemond, you went and asked if you could sit there and Aemond smiled at you gently before muttering a yes, and that's when your friendship blossomed, you both started talking to each other.

You developed a small crush on him at that time, the way he would be so kind and gentle with you made your heart flutter, but then you pushed away that crush the minute you found out that he was dating Floris. You felt hurt but quickly moved on, and continued to stay friends.

That's when you turned your attention back unto him, “Hey- didn't you date floris? Did you guys not have sex?” you asked way too openly and he blushed immediately at that thought, “N-no- we tried but i was so nervous that i could not get it up, and then I found out she was cheating on me.” he says embarrassed and you mentally wanted to punch yourself, how can you ever forget the reason they broke up? It was the first time you saw Aemond so out of it, not being his usual self, but you helped him get over her, after her, he never really was interested in anyone. Until he realised how he truly felt towards you.

“I'm sorry, that was stupid of me.” you apologise and he shakes his head, “Don't be, you were curious, and that's okay, I don't take any offence.” he says and you smile at him before scooting close to him, leaning your head on his shoulder, he could smell the shampoo in your hair and he loved it very much, closing your eyes and basking in the comfort of your presence.

Aemond never felt like this before, he didn't know what you did that made him fall in love with you, or get so comfortable around you, you showed him the difference between what 'love' and 'like' feels like. He thought he had loved Floris, but it was just like, and he thought he liked you, but it was love.

“Do you wanna lose it?” you ask, raising your head to look at him, “Lose wh- my virginity?” he asks and you nod, “Mhm yeah, I wish I had experience.” he says and your mouth curls up into a smile before you propped yourself up. “I can help you.” you say and he looks at you shocked. “–Only if you're comfortable, no pressure.” you reassure him, before reaching forward and grabbing the glass of water and downing it entirely, and he thinks for a bit. Losing his virginity to a girl he loves so dearly? Fuck yes. He would be a fool not to accept that offer.

“Sure.” he says and you smile, “Do we schedule it?” he asks and you bite back a laugh, “Whenever you're ready babe.” you wink at him and he looks at you with a smile on his face. You both sit there in silence after that exchange, staring at the screen but not quite watching or processing what the hell was going on, until you felt Aemond place a hand on your thigh, you smirked, there's your cue.

But you didn't react and let him explore a bit more as his hand went under the skirt you were wearing, his hand travelled up to your inner thigh, stopping right by your cunt, you felt him press two fingers onto your clothed area gasping when he found it damp, you were clearly enjoying this. He looked at you with uncertainty and you nodded, giving him permission to touch you.

His hands pushed aside your panties, fingers dipping into your wet heat before he slid his hand up and down, coating his fingers with his juices until he found your clit and rubbed small circles on it. You gasped when you felt him do that.

He was teasing you.

You did not know what came over you, and you pulled his hand away, before you got off the couch, going on your knees in front of him, he was taken aback by your swift movements and tried processing what was happening, but before he can, you parted his legs, settling yourself in between them on your knees before undoing his pants, and pushing them slightly to reveal his boxes, you pushed them down as well and it revealed his hardening cock.

He gasped when he felt your warm hand wrap around it, giving him a few pumps before it became fully erect. You watched as the tip became red and started leaking precum, which you collected with your thumb before rubbing it on the tip, making him throw his head back.

You slowly took the precum leaking from his tip and coating your hands with it so it acts as lube before moving your hand up and down his length, you were so enchanted by how pretty his dick looked, it was big, bigger than any of the guys you've had before, he was just perfectly thick enough, a vein running along his erection, pumping the blood. Your mouth watered at the sight.

Your daze was quickly broken by a loud moan Aemond let out when you squeezed his cock a little, and you looked up at him, his face was flushed, breathing ragged and heavy and he looked at you with mouth slightly wide open and it went straight to your core, you rubbed your thighs together to satiation the itch there.

You pulled his cock towards your mouth before kissing the tip and licking it causing his gasp loudly at the way how good your tongue felt against it, you slowly took him inside your mouth, hands making up for the area you aren't able to take and bobbed your head up and down, tongue swirling around his cock.

“F-fuck you feel so good.” he grunts making you chuckle, causing vibrations which shot up to his spine, he held your head with one hand and started using you to fuck himself, your hand left the base and resting on his thigh as you let him using your mouth to fuck, he shoved his cock deep inside making you gag, tears welling up your eyes, you breathed through your nose, eye closed at the intensity.

He was near, and you could tell by the way he became sloppy, that's when you pulled yourself off him, ruining his orgasm and he looked at you with such a confused expression that made you smirk.

You got up off your knees before taking off your skirt and top, leaving you only in your bra and panties before you straddling him, hands resting on his shoulder as you kissed him on the lips, his hands held you by the waist, kissing you back and rutting up against you, trying to gain some friction.

He undid your bra clasps and you helped him remove it, baring your tits to the room, you got up slightly to grab the hem of his shirt and pull it off him, revealing his toned chest.

He kissed you again, hand entangled in your hair as he pushed his face against yours, it was desperate, you away and teased him but pinching his nipples making him slightly whimper.

You felt his finger wrap itself around the band of your panty before he applied force in pulling and tore it, you gasped when he discarded the torn piece, slapping him lightly on the arm, “Hey! Those are expensive.” you said and he chuckled “I'll buy you a new one.” he says in a daze, and kisses your neck. You can feel the stiffness in his kisses, he was extremely nervous about it.

“Aemy, just relax.” you put your hands on his shoulders, lightly massaging it when you felt how tense they are and he pulled away to look at you and nodded.

You gave him a small kiss on the cheek, below his scar, before you caressed his hair lovingly, trying to soothe his nerves.

He appreciated that, he really did.

When you felt him relax enough, you grabbed his still-hard cock again and lifted yourself up on your knees before lining it against your entrance, slowly sinking down on him, completely engulfing him before you let him settle inside you, that's when you started riding him, grinding your hips.

He moaned loudly, cumming almost instantly when he felt the way you clenched around him, and you halted.

That was way too quick.

He felt embarrassed and he looked down, avoiding eye contact with you.

You grabbed his face and made him look at you, “It's okay aemy, it happens.” you say, caressing his cheek with your thumb but he looked down once again in shame, “That- was way too fucking quick. I'm fucking ashamed- fuck.” his voice cracks and he seems like he's about to cry, but you pulled him in for a hug. Hands around his hand as he presses his face against your tits, his hands hold your hips for balance.

“Shh, it's not shameful Aemond, it happens and that's completely all right, it's your first time as well! Don't feel bad.” you kiss him atop his head and he looks at you, you give him a reassuring smile before pressing a small kiss to his lips.

“Besides, I didn't let you finish earlier too, and by the way, you're still hard.” you say, grabbing one of his hands, pressing it down on the end of your stomach, making him feel the bulge there, and his eyes widen. “That's me?” he asks and you chuckle and nod, “Yeah you're way too fucking big.” you say it in a joking manner and he smiles.

You slowly start moving again, riding him, he showers kisses on your breasts before taking one unto his mouth. You grabbed onto his shoulder for support, moving up and down, you moan out loud when the tip of his dick grazes against your rough patch, he moves his hips upwards as well, rutting into you with so much need, he stops his actions on your breasts before he kisses you, holding you by your waist as he pounds into you.

You felt the familiar rise of pleasure from your core, the coil that snapped so quickly when his tip hit the rough patch, pushing you over the edge as you moaned his name out loud, causing him to grunt as well.

You felt his thrusts become sloppy once again, and you had an evil plan, pushing off him, sliding him out and ruining his orgasm once again, before you could get off him completely, he changed positions by pushing you onto your back on the sofa, pushing your legs to your chest and sliding in effortlessly and roughly beginning to pound into you.

You didn't know where this intensity came from but you didn't mind, you grabbed the sofa hand above your head to stabilise yourself as his thrusts were extremely brutal and hard, causing your body to jolt up.

You felt his tip bullying your cervix, causing slight pain, but you didn't show it and let him fuck you brutally.

His hand fell to your clit, rubbing fast but furious circles onto, and slapping it time to time, causing a little twinge of pleasruable pain, the band in your core snapped once again, making you arch your back pushing onto him, he came at the same time inside you, pushing to the hilt and riding his orgasm out. He collapsed on top of you, still inside you.

“Wow- that was- fucking intense.” you compliment him and he just hums, causing vibration.

“I love you.” you freeze when the confession leaves his mouth as you feel him burying his nose in the crook of your neck.

You smile at that and caress his hair lovingly.

“I love you too.” you place a small kiss to his head when you feel him smile as he breathed heavily.

[luveline]

omg if u ever get the chance would you write a follow up for the eddie and shy!reader where they confess? 🥺🩵

first part (u don't have to read if u don't want to) fem!shy!reader and best friend eddie confess, 1.6k

You flick a piece of popcorn off of your knee and smack Eddie square in the cheek. His neck snaps to the side to stare at you, tongue in his cheek in indignation. 

"That how it is?" he asks. 

You smile mock-demurely. "I have no idea what you're talking about." 

It's too close to flirting to deny at this point, but Eddie doesn't ever seem to notice. You've been friends for so long that this slow decline into playfulness feels normal. 

Eddie digs for the rogue piece of popcorn on the couch cushion behind his shoulders and prepares to flick it back. You cover your face. 

"Hey! Cheating, put your hands down." 

"No, you'll flick popcorn at me." 

The popcorn hits you in the hand. You drop your hands, but quickly retreat into yourself on the bean bag in apprehension as he approaches, a devilish smile playing on his pretty mouth. "Eddie, please don't–" You groan as he drops his weight on top of you, kneeing the back of your thigh hard. "You fucking–" 

"Remember when we first met? You never would've cussed at me," he interrupts, boldly putting his hands on you, one at your neck and the other against your cheek. 

You wiggle under him. "Get off." 

He takes a handful of popcorn from the bucket by your side. It smells sweet like taffy, and a kernel falls from his palm onto your shirt as he eats it. You flick it at him. 

"You're aggressively aggressive," he says through chews.

"You're heavier than you look." 

"When we first met," he says, poking your cheek with his pinky, you assume so as not to get popcorn crumbs on you, "you could barely look me in the eye." 

"That's just 'cos you're scruffy." 

"Funny." 

Eddie wipes his hand in his shirt and grabs your face again. You go still at his touch, trying to maintain a facade of calm you don't feel. 

"This is nicer. I love when you get all shy," —his voice softens slowly, like a meandering river calmed— "your smile… you smile when you're nervous, you know that?" 

You tamp your expression into neutrality. "Do not." 

"But it's nicer now that you're not nervous all the time. You're not telling me things, but I can handle it." 

"I tell you things," you mumble.

Eddie locks eyes with you. He rubs your jaw with his knuckles teasingly, before climbing off of you with an apologetic pat to your knee. His positioning had been less than comfortable. You sit up with a sigh, leg and chest aching. 

"You tell me some things," he says. 

"I tell you pretty much everything." 

"Liar." He crosses his legs, sitting applesauce by the mantle. Sunlight coming in from the kitchen behind him has his hair like silver at the edges where it falls around his face, his arms tense where he holds his own elbows. 

"I'm not lying, you know anything worth knowing about me." 

It's hard to make out, but you can tell you've upset him. You aren't sure how, but he goes rigid, looking away from you and toward the TV. His side profile knocks the breath out of you, lashes long where they kiss the skin beneath his brows, his nose a strong line you'd like to reach out and trace. 

"Eddie–" 

"It's alright, I didn't mean anything by it." 

The bean bag groans as you kneel on the rug by Eddie's legs. You look around helplessly for aid, and when none comes you drag the popcorn toward you, eating a mouthful morosely. 

"I'm sorry for being weird, I just…" Eddie leans back on one arm and whines. "I think I'm getting my meriod." 

"That's not funny." 

He puts a hand on his stomach. "Do I look bloated to you?" 

"I don't know where to start with that one." 

Eddie falls onto his back. His act doesn't last very long, and after a few moments he's frowning at the TV again. You look down into the popcorn kernels, white and yellow and brown and fragrant when you give the tub a little shake. You push it away.

"Don't be sad, Eds. If there's something you want me to tell you, I'll tell you." 

You're aflame as you say it, because why the fuck would you say that? There's no way he'll want to know what you're afraid to tell him, he'll never ask, but still. It's like offering to jump into turbulent waters. 

"I just don't want you holding onto stuff, that's all. Kinda breaks my heart thinking you're a bag of secrets." 

"What if it's stuff you don't wanna hear?" you ask with a dry mouth.

"I always wanna hear it if it's coming from you. Can't promise I'll like it, but what, you think I'm gonna care?" 

"It's hard to say." 

He gestures for you to lay down with him. 

You set your shoulder by his and lay down cautiously. Your thigh bumps into his. A line of rings catches the light where his hand covers his ribs. 

"I don't want to tell you something about me and have you see me differently," you say slowly, each word strung to the other clumsily as you piece your sentence together. "I like how you treat me now." 

"What if I swear things won't change?" 

"I don't…" He sounds like he knows you like him. Impossible to describe, only that you know the truth, so he must know the truth too. "You can't, really. Promise me that." 

He turns his head to yours, his hair dragging gentle across your shoulder as he moves. You feel his gaze like a flame on your cheek. 

"I swear," he murmurs. "Nothing will change. Nothing you don't want to change." 

You turn toward him, heart in your mouth, meeting his baby brown eyes head on. You shift your head against the floor to take the weight of it off of your ear, your chin lifting subtly. 

This is going to rip your chest open. "I think I'm," —Eddie leans forward, he closes the gap, "in love–" 

You can't finish your sentence. Like a magnetic pull, Eddie fits his lips against the seam of your own and you close it, alarmed, not sure how to respond. He cuts your face softly and pushes up, encouraging you to kiss back. 

"Wait," you say, eyes painfully open. 

Eddie immediately moves away from you. "Sorry," he says, his eyes just as open, twice as wide, "was I not supposed– you're not talking about me?" 

"I'm in love with you," you say. 

"Yeah, I guessed?"

"I don't know why you're being cranky with me, we both know I won't be able to say it again." 

Your throat totally closes as he rubs your cheek, like there's dirt under his thumb. "I've been thinking about kissing you for months, sweetheart," he says. He looks like he might say more, but he leans in again. 

You sigh at his touching, his gentle kiss. He smiles into you, sitting up to kiss down with slightly more force. Eddie takes the lead, cradling your face in hands you've never felt so adoringly tender before. His hair starts to tip onto your cheek like strands of silk. 

"I think you'll be okay," he says, breaking the kiss to pant in breath. He rubs the tip of his nose into yours. 

"There's popcorn in my teeth, please don't kiss me again," you say quietly. 

"I love you. I don't care if we swap kernels for the next hour."

"Hour?" you ask, though you're thrumming with a strange anticipation. The reality hasn't dropped, but it's falling fast. 

"I've been waiting months," he reminds you, lips at your cheek as he needles his arms under your shoulders. He hugs you. "Aw, sweetheart. I've been seeing you try to tell me now for months, the whole time thinking I couldn't get any more obsessed with you." 

"You're obsessed with me? You knew?" you ask. 

"Don't freak out." 

"I'm gonna." 

"Okay, fine, freak out." 

You hug him, burying your nose in his hair. He's soft, and warm, and he's heavy where he leans on your chest, but it's perfect. You wonder if this is the precipice of forever now, if you get to have him in your arms like this all the time. You freak out. 

"You're in love with me?" you ask. 

"Sickeningly." 

"I think my face is on fire." 

Eddie peels back to look you over. "You're melting," he says agreeably. "But lucky you, your best friend gives the coolest kisses ever." 

"You're gonna make it worse." 

"Can I?" he asks. 

"I have popcorn in my teeth," you whine again. 

Eddie knows you better than anyone in the whole wide world. He demands you open your mouth for kernel extraction and you burst into squeamish giggles, squirming out from his arms and whacking your head on the seat of the couch. Eddie chases after you to start a wrestling match you can't win. He doesn't break his promise —the things you don't want to change stay the same. And the things you do want to change? They're perfect, even if it all tastes overwhelmingly of butter and toffee. 

-

i hope you enjoyed reading!!

[ghouljams]

dear ghoul a very good evening, may i humbly request for some more ghost!ghost? it's just too adorable man you got the works

The worst part about having a ghost for a roommate is it makes having people over a little tricky.

Your friend comes scrambling out of the bathroom with a wild look in his eye, and plasters himself against the wall, nearly knocking one of your pictures off the wall. You turn around on the couch to make sure he's alright. He looks like he's seen a ghost. Dammit. You try not to look too suspicious when you ask,

"What's wrong?"

"I- there was- in the mirror-" your friend stutters, trying to make sense of... Well you assume trying to make sense of seeing a flash of your ghastly roommate in the bathroom mirror. He tends to hover behind the door when you have friends over, waiting for someone to close it and catch a glimpse of him. You have to hand it to him, Ghost is fairly talented at being a ghost.

You pop a few kernels of popcorn in your mouth. Unbothered. "Yeah the place is low-key haunted."

"Low key?" You friend balks, "Some bloke with a slit throat jumping out of mirrors is what you call low key?"

"What?" He's never done that before. Usually when you've got someone over he sticks to the classics: opening and closing doors, footsteps, cold rooms, glimpses of him in the shadows.

"I'm out of here," your friend grabs his coat off the hook and stalks towards the door, you jump off the couch and are unceremoniously pushed back down onto it by an unseen force. It feels like a weight settling over your chest, forcing you to lay back.

"Wh-" you try to breathe around the pressure and your friend tugs the door open, "Wait!" You manage just as your friend is pushed out, the door slammed behind them and all the locks clicked into place. You push at the air on top of you, as if your fingers might grasp living flesh instead of empty space. You hear the mug on your ghost's alter bubble ominously before your wrist is pinned over your head against the couch.

The temperature in the room plumits, you tense to keep from shivering, grit your teeth to keep them from chattering. The phantom hands holding you down ruck up under your shirt and the dam breaks. Shivers wrack your body, not from fear, but from the chill and you try again to push at the invisible force holding you down.

"Ghost wha-" your breath catches in your throat, you're eyes fix on the black expanse of the TV screen. You can see the shadow of him crouched over you, holding you down. You didn't know he was so big, he hulks over your frame, takes over the couch without trying. He straddles your hips, one hand pressing against your stomach while the other pins your wrist.

"No..." His voice is raspy, guttural and rough, his breath shakes and wheezes, "boyfriends."

You can't look away from the TV screen, too worried if you do you'll never see your ghost again. You don't fight against his hold, your body rigid, breath held. He doesn't touch you, not like this. Despite the chill its gentle, forceful but gentle, and a shive vreaks down your spine that isn't from the cold. The hand on your stomach strokes your skin, almost appreciative. You wonder when the last time he felt living flesh was, if he misses it, if he'll keep touching you.

Then his words hit you, and you have to stop from jerking your head to look at him. You know you won't see him, but that doesn't stop the temptation. "He's just a friend," you press, is that why he's upset? You can't imagine why else he'd be mad, this never happened when you had girls over. "Wha-" you smile a little, "Are you jealous?"

The hands leave you, the specter in the TV reflection disappearing like whispers of smoke. You turn to look at the empty air above you and pout.what the hell are you supposed to do now? Your friend bailed, your ghost bailed, you're all riled up with nowhere to go. You grab the remote and pout a little more forcefully at Ghost's alter as you turn the TV on.

"Possessive bastard," you grumble, watching the mug bubble once for yes.

[shaisuki]

hello! Your writing amuses me a lot. Could you write a story where gojo, nanami, toji or Geto find out that their partner was kidnapped and they find her with some blow and they get furious?

Thanks and greetings from Argentina 😘

BRUISES AND DEAD BODIES

ft. gojo satoru, nanami kento, fushiguro toji, geto suguru

content warnings ─── injuries, murder, gore, assault

ᝰ synopsis .ᐟ there's lines that cannot be crossed with them and involving you is a dumb way to die.

GOJO SATORU

enemies are easier to make than friends and since his birth, danger followed him everywhere. from bounty hunters to curse users and being related or being significantly special to the six eyes and limitless user, danger was just around the corner.

satoru is strong. unbelievably strong. he has the power to tip the balance of the world and thus, he have the power to protect especially to you.

but sometimes, fate would place a cruel situation to him. you disappeared out of the blue. it's not like for you to tease him with something serious knowing he can be dramatic at times and his instincts isn't he ignores and alas, he was right. you were a captive. some group bounty hunters had ganged up for the price of his head. if he kills himself you live. that's why they have said. a negotiation but there's no such things as a negotiation for him.

only an idiot would mess to gojo satoru and they are. they think using you as a hostage for someone like him would be an easy way to get what they want but gojo proves them wrong.

he sees you bound in a chair. sound asleep. soft breaths adding to your state while your chest heaves. you're alive and it's relief not until he sees the damage they had done to you. blue eyes shimmering. casting it's glow to the precipitants and it's too late to back now for underestimating him.

adding to his hidden rage was the visible bruises and the welts to your skin. they have chosen death. no room to think as his hands cups the head on one of them before twisting it off. the hard skull was no match for gojo's strength. the head pops like a can being crushed in his bare hands and at the blink of an eye. there was nobody breathing except for him and to his lover.

he gently scoops you in his arms. your soft, plump frame against his hard ones and gojo loved the position if only it was under normal circumstances.

footsteps echoes in the silent building where once rowdy bounty hunters had gathered. it's only a shell of the former building while their corpses filled the entire space.

fluttering your lashes open, you were instantly greeted by the soreness of your body. added by the bruises stinging in your skin and a tuft of white hair is the first thing you've noticed about him.

“satoru?” blinking your eyes to adjust in your surroundings and to confirm if it was him and you weren't wrong. it was him. “glad you're awake now.” he says cheerfully. “what happened to you? me, your amazing boyfriend had to save you from the bad guys.” puffing his chest and you weren't sure how you would take his boasting.

tired and defeated. you admitted your weakness. “i'm sorry. i let my guard down.” your face casting a solemn look and gojo ignores it. partly it was his fault and you got dragged into it. since the start of your relationship with him, you're already marked as a target. knowing you are gojo's achilles hell.

“don't worry about it. let's get you to shoko.” you shaked your head. “can it wait until later?” you ask him. “why?” he replied. “i'm hungry.” gojo chuckles at your predicament. bruised and tired and you wanted to eat and of course, gojo accepts it.

“okay, okay. let's get you something to eat and we're going to shoko.”

all the things he can do for you and there's no such thing as denying the things you want.

NANAMI KENTO

veins desperately clawed to the surface of his skin. they look like kernels of corn ready to burst at any moment and it isn't the only thing that is ready to burst.

he's calm and composed. he always is. this is how he handles his profession as a sorcerer. merely a bit of being teetered to the edge isn't enough to break him. of course there are times where he loses composure but it is nothing when it comes to you.

there's drips of bloods staining your face and you're unconscious body is sprawled to the floor and nanami isn't a saint to forgive for such animosity and he breaks.

his muscles bulge while wrapping that necktie in his palms. the perpetrator stumbles out of panic and in fear. nanami's raging from inside and outside.

his fist collided in the cheek. there's a crack can be heard as the one who assaulted you was planted on the wall. coughing up blood and skull was dented like a can being crushed in a hand. it wasn't enough and nanami punches again until only a bloody pulp of a body is only way someone can recognize it as a former body. if it is what is it

“mmm... kento. 'm sorry.” you weakly mustered to speak to him. “no. don't apologize for it darling.” his once face that was clouded with rage clears up. his features softening while he tended to the wounds he can heal.

inside nanami was scared. he didn't show it. how close you are for being parted to him and he can't accept if something happens to you again. it looks like nanami have to make sure this won't happen again even if it's the last thing he will do.

FUSHIGURO TOJI

“oi, oi.” toji began to get irritated. inspecting your face in his hands. moving it left and right to assess the injuries that you had taken from your captors. “a pretty face is all she had and you come destroying it.” even with that heightened senses of his, could he not tell you can hear him.

the sorcerer assassin's eye came twitching in irritation as he looks at your state. toji wouldn't care if someone would get beat up for his fault but it is different when it comes to you. “now which one of you assholes would go first?” the cursed spirit worm vomits one of the weapons in his arsenal and toji stretches his limbs. waving his weapon like a fan and hell broke loose.

“i just wished you didn't come and get me if you're just going to insult me.” rolling your eyes at him and you winged as he pulled your arm. “i did you a favor and you need to repay me.” he casually tells you. ignoring the remarks from you.

fuck. he's toji fucking fushiguro and you know how stubborn this man is when it comes to his selfish needs. you already forgot that it was his fault that you got dragged into his dirty business. “and i'm right princess. you're face is only the redeeming quality of yours.” good heavens. you just wished you were already dead. you can't fucking stand him and yet, you're here.

“come on now.” toji grabs you. not minding your injuries and how you squirmed against him. licking the shell of your ear. “you know what i want.” he whispers. taking the reward in his own hands.

GETO SUGURU

his expression unreadable. staring at your figure that is bound and bruised. how did it resulted to this when he got you locked and guarded all the time and some bloody monkeys took their revenge on him by using you.

geto's fuming inside and he smiles. although it doesn't reach his eyes and a wall appeared out in the thin air. humongous and hideous creatures began to pry the walls to open. with a flick of his finger, they began to attack whoever their owner desired to kill.

the screams. they were loud. screeching as they begged for their lives. it was like fork being rubbed in a surface and only to produce the most irritating sound but for him. that is what he calls a music to his ears. if they have chosen to leave you alone, this wouldn't happen. anyways it was bound to. considering how he was a threat for them in a long time and it would come soon for them to target you and he hated himself for that. getting dragged by the filthy hands of the scums.

all is fine, now. he have you in his arms now and those who dared to harm you again will face him and the hell he is about to unleash him. no one would be safe from him.

he kisses your forehead. you were sound asleep from all of that. gently patting your head to soothe you was comforting enough for him.

geto walks away with you in his arms and the pile of corpses behind him.

[cliban]

cliban. america has a serious school shooting and bombing problem. there have been thousands. and you ask why there are cops at schools.

Okay Wolf I want to put this very very gently, so I'm sorry if I come off rude

I'm an Aoteroa native, right? We have a radically different school culture here. We simply do not have that problem; we have had ONE school shooting in the history of New Zealand and that was in 1923.

So it feels very.... America-centric to jump on that and go aha it's because of all the school shootings! Clearly that's it! It's not a conclusion I'd draw with my background and I know that my case(s) of physical abuse at school was, thankfully, extremely rare. Not many kids go through my trauma, and while it's horrific that anyone went through that, it's not common enough to warrant shit like this.

Logically, now that I've had it explained to me, it makes kind-of sense. Okay whatever thank you to the other two mutuals who gave me explanations that was very helpful <333

However I've seen this... thing online, of Americans wanting non-Americans to come to conclusions that literally do not make sense for their culture or expecting them to know American culturepoints.

And while I agree the internet as it is is seriously American-based, I do not know everything about the issues that America faces and how they deal with that, just as I don't expect Americans (or anyone else for that matter) to know about my Aoteroa-specific issues that seem huge here.

Just idk the way you phrased this ask didn't sit right with me. It feels like you expected me to either just Know, or draw a conclusion from 'the obvious'.

TO BE CLEAR: I do NOT think you meant it that way. I think you just didn't think too hard about the fact I'm a kiwi lmao

But it's an interesting study nonetheless.

Sorry man, my hackles just get a little raised when I feel treated as... stupider, or unable to grasp the difference for something like a cultural barrier </3 It's the autism. I'm absolutely fine but weeee should probably talk about this later :aroheart

🔥🔥

[foreverunraveling]

Is it just me, or does Young Royals really love to scare us, lull us into a false sense of security, and then pull the rug out from underneath us (in a way that's much worse than the original threat)?

For example, you see August clocking Wille leaving the movie before Simon in episode 2.

You (if you weren't too distracted by the scene itself) might have worried that he might show up when they were having their first kiss there. But he didn't. The show consciously created that tension and then relieved it as a foreshadowing of the much worse version of that to come later.

That tension is recreated at the end of episode 4 when August is shown outside a window at Forest Ridge.

There's a brief moment of relief--he's at Alex's window, not Wille's. While you know deep down where this has to be going, you still have a kernel of hope. And then even when he does make it to Wille's room, you can't tell it's a boy (let alone Simon) for five full seconds. Hope tries to stay alive. We all know how it ends, though--that tension snaps right back into our faces when August spots Wille and Simon moments later.

This happens on a different scale with Wille and Simon's planned weekend together in episode 3. When Wilhelm tells Simon that August will be staying at Forest Ridge, that introduces a tension of "will they get their weekend together?"

That tension of "will they get their weekend together" is relieved when Wille asks if he can come to Simon's in Bjarstad, only to AGAIN snap right back into our faces when a much bigger problem surfaces--Erik dies. So, they don't get their weekend anyways.

Hell, there's even a hint of this in episode 2 when August walks in on Wilhelm looking at Simon's Instagram before rowing practice. He doesn't actually see what Wille was doing, though--so it's okay--and he ends up taking a call from Erik.

In another way, this happens with Wilhelm and Felice's relationship from season 1 to season 2. She initially kisses him in episode 3, and we worry that he might just go with it. He doesn't, though. What a relief. In the next episode, though, once he's crown prince, Wilhelm is publicly flirting with Felice (despite her relationship with August) over how "cute" she looks in a video. But our worries about this fade with the release of the video and Felice's support into season 2...

Until they actually almost hook up in the third episode, that is.

And it's definitely not limited to Simon and Wille and their relationships. It comes up with Sara and August too. When he initially kisses her in episode 4 of season 1, you might worry that maybe Sara will respond in a less-than-healthy manner, or that she'll keep what happened to herself instead of telling Felice. Sara rebuffs him, though, and tells Felice about what happened in the stables later that episode.

Tension introduced and relieved, so we move on. But then in the final episode of season 1, Sara goes to August's room to confront him about the video. And she ends up kissing him. In season 2, they end up being in AN ENTIRE SECRET RELATIONSHIP that Sara keeps from Felice. The original fear that you might have had about August twisting his way into Sara's heart was well-founded, it seems.

There are also smaller examples. Like when you see Erik driving incredibly fast in episode 1, or when you see Wilhelm riding on the scooters with Simon, Rosh, and Ayub in episode 2, some people worried there might be some kind of accident. (He was going hands-free, for fuck's sake.)

Well, in both of those instances, everything turned out okay, while Erik's actual offscreen accident in episode 3 obviously did not.

The anxiety about Marcus catching Wilhelm and Simon kissing at the Valentine's party is momentarily alleviated when it looks like him and Simon are going inside, but then Marcus turns around and sees Wille (not to mention he sees Simon eyeing Wille throughout the entire song and during the applause).

Let's not even get started on the drugs. We thought that storyline was resolved, gone, done away with after Alexander was seemingly expelled during season 1.

But then he's back in season 2, and the question of whether anyone will tell Alex that Wilhelm was the one to pin the blame on him arises. It seems a minor issue--given that Alexander wasn't actually expelled, and he seems to like Wille, we don't necessarily expect it to matter all too much. In episode 6, though, the "drug thing" is back at the top of our list of problems. We thought that this had been dealt with! That we'd gotten past it!

But it's worse than before--there's a pill bottle with Simon's father's name on it, and August has it! August has a potential witness behind him (Alex) and is threatening to tell not just the school, but the cops!

Don't worry, though, the tension is relieved when Simon tells Wille he's not going to report August to the police... for approximately six seconds until we see that Sara is reporting August instead.

Anyways, following this pattern, you can draw some really interesting potential conclusions about season 3 based on some of the big tension reliefs that have occurred over the past two seasons. Not saying that any of these will happen, but I'm preparing myself for anything:

Wilhelm has some sort of drug OD—like Simon (and some of the audience, probably) worried on the night of the Society party. This is one I'm really hoping doesn't come up.

Wilhelm actually kills August—when Wilhelm puts that gun down, it's a massive relief for most of us (also the characters present). This would just be... wild. And would explain Omar's tweets about how crazy the season is, I guess.

Sara outs Stella's crush on Fredricka, like she was threatening to do when Felice was moving out of their room at the Manor House. Istg if she does this I might lose it.

Wilhelm's mother dies. This was definitely one idea on some people's minds when Wilhelm takes that call that turns out to be about Erik in episode 3.

Wilhelm actually abdicates. This is definitely a threat made in season 2 that was later assuaged. I'm pulling for Wilhelm taking the throne only to abolish the monarchy. That might be a bit too optimistic on my part, though.

ALTERNATIVELY, August gets the throne. They teased us with this when Wilhelm almost didn't give the speech. August was literally walking up to the podium when Wille leapt up to take his place and momentarily rescued us from the notion that August was going to be ascending the throne.

Wilhelm and/or Simon and/or Sara get pulled from Hillerska. After the video, both Simon and Sara were potentially not going to return to the school. Simon was even late for the first day back, when he missed the choir performance. And Wille was almost physically removed from the school in episode 2 of season 2. Given the statement in the trailer about the school potentially shutting down... this one doesn't seem like too much of a long shot.

It's hard to say what any of this could mean for Simon/Wilhelm's relationship—I mean, in season 1, we had about six instances where we thought we'd get Simon and Wilhelm together and originally didn't (the first music room scene, the conversation after Erik's memorial, the second music room scene/drug situation, the video leak, Wilhelm LYING about the video leak).... the reasons kept getting worse and worse, until there's a release of tension when Wille says he won't deny the video—only for it to be far more crushing when he does deny it having promised otherwise. It seems like there's a new, bigger problem every time they turn around. So far, they've overcome all of the obstacles they've faced (honestly, I don't know how)... but I can't imagine that they're about to be facing an easy course based on that trailer.

Anyways, these are my meandering thoughts about some ways that we can try to guess at what we might have coming based on the show's patterns and its use of foreshadowing. Like I said, I'm just trying to mentally prepare myself for some of the wild-ass shit that might go down. So these are some crazy scenarios based on a few fake-outs that we've had so far. I'm still hoping that they don't take the smallest, most hopeful bits of seasons 1 and 2 and crush them in season 3....

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Life in the City 2

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bad friends, creep behaviour, abuse of power dynamics, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You move to the big city and find yourself swallowed up by its chaos.

Characters: Clark Kent, Thor Odinson, short!reader

Note: A brief reprieve from the snakish prince.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you. No tag list, do not ask for updates.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You nurse your glass of wine. You're not much of a drinker, you mostly brought it for Melanie. Despite her agitation, she seems to be enjoying it. She snuggles up to Clark as you sit awkwardly at the other end of the couch.

You really shouldn't be here. The longer you sit in silence and pretend to care about the movie, the more you think of leaving. You definitely crashed their party and they're not being very subtle.

You reach for a handful of popcorn to busy yourself. The crunch blocks out Melanie's shameless whispers. She doesn't get much back but she doesn't give up. You can't find an exit plan that isn't completely obvious.

Finally, she quiets down upon getting a grunt from Clark. She nestles against him and rests her head on his shoulder as he drapes an arm over her. You can't help the pang of loneliness. You're not jealous, it's just been a while since you had someone to snuggle aside from your stuffed hippo.

You sit back as you swallow down the last of the kernels with a swig of wine. You put the wine glass on the glass coaster Melanie kept reminding you of. As the evening sets in, the room is only lit with the glow of the television. The haze of colours and alcohol itches on your eyelids.

You yawn and plant your elbow on the armrest, leaning into it as you tilt your head. Your lashes close, only for a moment before you twitch. You feel a tickle on your hip. You lift your head slightly and peer down from the corner of your vision.

Is he... touching you? Maybe it's a mistake or he doesn't realise he's doing it. You freeze, mortified. You should clear your throat or move or something...

You can't. His fingertips brush down your thigh and back up it, lingering just along the curve of your ass. You reach for your wine and he rescinds his hand, curling his arm around Melanie as she gives a delighted moan.

What was that? You're overthinking this. He probably thought it was her. Somehow. You're not sure. He's a nice guy, a stranger still, he wouldn't just touch you.

You drain the last of your wine and stand up, "just gonna pop into the bathroom."

"Whatever," Melanie dismisses as she rubs Clark's chest. 

You don't look at him but you swear you can feel his gaze on you. You circle around the back of the couch and find your way to the bathroom. You close yourself in and shake the jitters from your nerves.

You're tired and you don't know if it even happened. You've been drinking and maybe just maybe you're a little tipsy. Well, at least the movie is almost done. You can try to catch the last bus or turn in for the night if Melanie lets you have the couch.

You get yourself together and go back out. As you near the couch, Melanie and Clark quickly part, their sloppy kiss ending in a pop. You try not to give away your discomfort and resume your seat, pressing yourself against the armrest as small as you can.

"I'm getting tired, sweetie," Melanie whines.

"The movie's not done," his voice is rocky and low.

"I've seen it," she pouts.

"Well, I haven't. If you want to lay down, I'll be in when it's over," he says coolly but not unkindly.

"You can finish it tomorrow," she simpers.

"Hon, you got a friend here," he reminds her, "don't be rude."

He looks at you and sends you a smile you barely glimpse as you shy away.

"I never even invited her," she hisses under her breath.

"Go to bed, Mel," he retorts, his timbre steady, "you've had too much wine."

"I haven't had enough," she snarls.

"Honey," he softens his tone, "remember what we talked about."

She's quiet as she stares at him. You can only see the back of her head. She sniffs and leans in to kiss his cheek, "sure, sweetie, I'll be in bed..." she stands, tickling his jawline, "waiting for you.”

You give a sheepish ‘good night’ but she doesn't answer, or even look your way. You dip your chin down, embarrassed by her indifference and turn your focus back to the television. Well, not much longer and you can hide in the dark and wait for morning.

Clark bends forward to take the bowl of popcorn off the table. He sits back and offers you some as he sidles a bit closer. You shake your hand and murmur, “no thanks.” All the salt and butter is already curdling in your tummy.

He shoves a few kernels in his mouth and chews as he watches the screen. You don't enjoy it as much now. Your nostalgia sears away as the tension rises between you and him. The kiss that should be a resolution is suddenly awkward and cringe worthy.

“So,” he swallows, “how long have you known Melanie?”

His voice is like thunder in the lull. You rub your arm, his shadow lurking at the edge of your eye line as you keep your head straight. You clear your throat, “for a while… since high school.”

“Oh, wow, she never mentioned you,” he says, “what's that like ten years or something.”

“About that,” you answer. 

“I mean, don't know why it wouldn't have come up. A friend who brings snacks? That's the best kind,” he puts the popcorn down and grabs one of the coloured napkins to wipe his fingertips.

“Um, I stayed… back in our hometown. Went to school in the next city but lived at home so… just moved here to see what it's really like,” you shrug.

“Oh, just got here? How are you liking it?”

“It's… blurry,” you chuckle nervously. Didn't he want to see the end? He's talking over the whole thing.

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” he stretches his arm across the back of the couch as he reclines. He sets his knees wide as his hand rests just behind your head. “I grew up on a farm. When I got here, I was so lost.”

“A farm?”

“Oh, yeah, big wake up call, but there's not much fodder for journalism in a field,” he snorts.

“Right, you're a journalist?”

“Sure am, with The Daily Planet. Little magazine you may have heard of.”

You blanch and nearly slap yourself, “Daily Planet? Clark… Kent?”

“Ha, so you've heard of me.”

“Yeah, uh, I…” you pause. He's older than you expected but you're not surprised. Melanie always had a type. “I wrote a review of your work in my undergrad.”

“You did?” He sounds amused as he leans a bit closer.

“Sure, well, we had to choose a contemporary writer…”

“I'm flattered. You did journalism?”

“Not exactly, it was just one class,” you wilt into the armrest.

“So what do you do?”

“Well, not what I studied,” you sigh, “I work a desk job. Data analysis.”

“Riveting stuff,” he kids and nudges you playfully when you don't laugh. “You know, Mel never mentioned she grew up in a small town. She always just seemed like she was from around here.”

“Uh, yeah, well, she hated the place so…” you scratch your chin as the hest crawls up your face. “How long have you and her, er, been dating?”

“Well, three months officially. Before were were just ‘having fun’,”he brings his hands up to curl his fingers in quotation, “that's what she called it anyway.”

“Oh, well uh, she seems to really like you,” you utter dumbly.

“Yeah, I think so,” his smirk is laced in his tone.

The room goes completely quiet and suddenly the drum track begins. You watch the credits roll as Clark faces the television. He laughs, “oops, guess I wasn't paying attention.”

He drags his arm from the back of the couch as he stands, his hand grazing your shoulder. He stretches and you notice the hem of his shirt lift, a peek of his muscled stomach above the elastic of his sweatpants. You quickly dart your eyes in the other direction. 

“I should… go check on her, but can I get you anything? Water? Help dilute the wine?” He offers.

“Er, well, no, I can get some myself. I’d hate to infringe–”

“Well, I wouldn’t ask if it was a problem,” he says.

“Really, it’s fine, I think I’ve taken up enough of your time.”

He nods and glances towards the hall, “you know, it didn’t bother me having you here. I’m sorry about her.”

“You don’t have to…”

“I know she forgot. She’s done it to me too. Before we were… official,” he says the last word with punctuated syllables.

“Oh, I’m sorry–”

“See, it’s not that hard to apologise so, I’ll make sure she does,” he interjects, “and I’ll let you settle down. It’s late and I’m sure you’re exhausted. Coming all the way here after work. You really went out of your way and I had a great night. Thanks.”

“Er, yeah, sure,” you murmur, “thanks for… joining in.”

He reluctantly leaves you as you watch him with bated breath. You’re so frigging awkward. You wait until you hear the bedroom door shut before you get up, taking the wine glass with you.

You go to the kitchen and rinse out the glass, refilling it with fresh water. You bring it back to the living room and move a pillow against the armrest, pulling down the fluffy throw onto the cushions. You shut off the television and tuck yourself in, the blanket too short, even for you.

What a lame Friday night. You could’ve had more fun alone.

🌆

It takes a bit for you to even feel tired. Your body is achy and sore but your mind is racing. Finally, you manage to close your eyes for more than a few minutes. You roll over to face the back of the couch and nestle into the pillow. You yawn as you feel yourself drifting.

A high pitch leaks into your ears. You twitch and your lashes flutter. It’s just the pipes or a siren somewhere in the distance. The city sure is loud. You hear it again, something more akin to a squeak.

You shift onto your back as your stomach tingles. You cover your face with your arm and try to ignore the irritating sound but it just doesn’t stop. Your eyes snap open as you rip your arm off your head, realising what it is.

The soft low growls in return, the steady tap against the wall… it’s not the pipes or a siren. It’s Melanie. And Clark. They’re… 

You flip the pillow over your head and bend your arm around it, blocking out the noise. Just when you think you can’t get any lower. You’ve been there before. The third wheel, the wing woman. High school was just you standing against the wall as Melanie made out with boys at a party you weren’t even invited to.

Maybe things haven’t changed that much. Maybe it’s that you didn’t see what was right in front of you. The one friend you thought you had, forgets you just like everyone else. This whole thing was a mistake. Moving to the city just so you can be her tag-along.

You wallow in your self-pity and sink down into your unconscious. The world slips away from you as your dreams ripples with muddy colours. You feel as if you're floating, bobbing on soft waves, disoriented and dazed.

You wake to the clink of glass. You groan as your head aches, the cushions stiff and unforgiving. Your neck is knotted just above your shoulders. You rub your cheek and stay as you are, still under the pillow as you get your bearings. You remember where you are and cling to the dregs of sleep in your eye.

Cool air tinges your skin, your leg hooked over the blanket. You hug the crumpled throw as the night seeps icily though your pajamas. The thin short set speckled in the little red hearts offer little warmth. You reach back to pull the shorts to your thigh as it rides up and tilt onto your back.

As you do, you sense a shadow over you. You peek under the slits of your eyelids and see a figure standing just a few feet from the other end of the couch. Long breaths blow into the air. It’s too large to be Melanie. It’s him. Is he watching you?

You can’t move. You’re paralysed in horror. Why is he just standing there? Goosebumps raise on your skin. You feel a whisper against your hip where he touched you earlier. It just can’t be that. He’s too nice.

You don’t know what to do so you close your eyes and lay completely still. You measure your breath as you wait. There’s a soft thunk as he sets down a glass on the table by the armrest and walks up the side of the couch.

Don’t move, don’t move, don’t move…

He tugs on the throw and spreads it over you as best he can. His fingers drag up your arm and he lingers, stroking your cheek as you resist the urge to pull away. He lets out a low growl and lumbers away, swiping up his glass as he goes.

You let your eyes open and catch a glimpse of his silhouette. His back is bare and thickly corded. The moonlight limns his muscles just before he disappears into the hall. You shudder as you release the heavy breath from your chest.

The bedroom door snaps shut as you clutch the blanket tight. It starts again. Melanie’s moans, Clark’s grunts, and the knocking of the bed frame. Quicker than before, almost furious. You just want this night to end.

[salemoleander]

"My teeth hurt," Martyn says.

He and Scott are on the deck, enjoying the morning sun before it has the chance to get humid; Scott is busy crafting sugarcane into paper while Martyn is (ostensibly) trying to carve a bowl.

"What, like- cavities? We've only been here for a few days, and I know you're eating the same fish and dried kelp as me." Scott pauses, holding a fresh sheaf of paper. "-and if you're not, and you've been holding sweets out on me, I'll be pissed."

Martyn huffs a laugh, then grimaces when pain shoots up through his sinuses. Ambling over to the table, he half-sits, half-leans on the back of one of their deck chairs.

"Nah, same food as you. Man, I don't know what I did. TNT to the face carry over, d'you reckon?"

He grins, and Scott blanches. Well, shit.

"Alright, what's wrong with my mouth?" Martyn asks, stress rising when Scott doesn't answer. "I've still got teeth, right?"

Scott nods sharply. He wavers on an answer for a moment before sighing. "Yeah. You've just got some new ones, seems like."

‐---------------------------------------------------------------------

The hard part of suddenly having shark teeth, Martyn quickly discovers, is that they are not particularly designed for beings with lips, and certainly not ones that talk.

He tells Scott this, nursing several sore spots on his lips and tongue.

"Have you considered talking less?"

"Oh, screw you."

Scott rolls his eyes, and they go back to sorting through chests in companionable silence. Waves gently lap against the edge of their island, while bamboo canes creak and shift. After a few minutes Scott says, "In the- last time. I remember being relieved, a bit, that even though Cleo and I chose each other-"

"Exactly the conversation I wanted to have," Martyn deadpans.

"Would you shut up? Honestly." Scott smiles, but his jaw flexes as he does and Martyn resolves to shut up and let him say this, whatever it is. At least for the next ten or fifteen seconds. Probably.

"Anyways. I was a tiny bit relieved that I was paired with Pearl, because she was human. And I'd seen how it was for BigB getting canine features and Joel getting whatever the hell from Etho, and you, y'know..."

"Rotting?"

"Eugh. Yeah." Scott looks through their fence-lattice walls and out to the water. "But Pearl didn't stay human."

Martyn raises an eyebrow. (For effect. If Scott is doing a dramatic monologue towards the ocean, Martyn at least gets to make faces, whether or not Scott sees him. Them's the rules.)

"She got kind of... wolf-y? Or more accurately, the game made her wolfy. Not like Ren, not nearly that elegant a combination."

Scott's voice is bitter, an edge to it that Martyn associates with fireworks going off too-close by. "I woke up one morning and my teeth were sharp and there were too many for my mouth. And it hurt, and the worst part was knowing this wouldn't be happening if we'd just done what the game wanted."

Blinking, Martyn says, "Oh." Brilliant. Nailed the response, there.

"I just wanted to tell you. That it might- those might be my fault, because it seems like whatever runs this game doesn't like me very much. There's a reason I set up alone out here."

Martyn- ignoring the ache from his jaw and the kernel of self-interest that tells him to get while the getting is good- scoffs. "None of that, thank you! I don't care if bloody Herobrine has it out for you, we're sticking together."

Relief washes over Scott's face. Martyn adds, "If whoever runs this circus thinks unlimited knives for teeth is a punishment, they're mad."

"Clearly! You were already enough of a menace." Released from whatever tension kept him still, Scott reaches over to flip another chest lid up and starts rifling through. "It's like trying to annoy Joel by giving him too many TNT minecarts."

Martyn snorts. "Right! Once my mouth gets the memo about where everything is now I'll be doing fine- probably better than I was before! A supernatural entity trying to tell me who I can be friends with? C'mon, nothing that stupid is busting the Mean Gills up."

He almost believes it.

[my-hobby-is-finding-the-source]

I've recently mentioned that I would like to write more about some of the techniques I use, and this last search presented the perfect opportunity.

Here, we see that if we pass the starting image to SauceNAO as is, all that it returns are repeated results, seemingly identical to the edit we have. However, with a simple tweak, we can change that.

We start by cutting out all sections of the starting image that do not appear to belong in the original—in this case, that's only the overlaying text. It's better to keep as much of the underlying image as possible.

Next, we fill these holes with something that looks like it belongs in the image. Since I have Photoshop, I use the Content-Aware Fill tool, but you could achieve a similar effect by copying pieces from the remaining sections.

Lastly, we apply a soft Gaussian Blur over the filled sections to reinforce the uniformity over the image. If you squint and it looks like the image is consistent, it's working.

Now, if we pass the modified image to SauceNAO… et voilá! A result for the original image with proper attribution shows up. Isn't that cool?

I can try to explain the reasoning behind this technique, but since I don't know the inner workings of their system, think of this as informed speculation only.

There are many ways to build a Reverse Image Search system, but that will often involve the construction of a descriptor—something that captures the visual characteristics of an image—traditionally created out of a downscaled version of the input. That might be due to the complexity of the construction process or to size requirements for storage.

Above, I shrunk the images we used into 32x32 pixel kernels. Notice how, in the starting image, the overlaying letters are still quite noticeable, even in this small size. The modified sample, however, looks strikingly similar to the kernel of the original image, even though it's just a reconstruction without any additional information.

That's my guess, at least. Now, this might not work that often, particularly when most of the underlying image is covered, but I hope that it can be useful to some of you!

[memelzebub]

I'll give it to the kevedd shippers, the sparse moments of comeraderie they have are really endearing and I respect the level of dedication it takes to scour the entire show for subtle moments of character acting that support the ship, but there's a set of screenshots I've never seen in the ed edd n eddy tag that I'm now throwing here because I think it's my favorite little kernel of character acting.

"Don't forget your cookie!"

Yeah we've all seen this because it's a punchline to Kevin being roughly tossed into the voting box. He gingerly takes the cookie without any kind of retaliation for how he was just handled. It's important I included it because it pairs with what follows.

Kevin snags one more when nobody's looking. Dee's cookies were that good. He'll have more thank you, but only enough that no one would notice that he took more than he was permitted. I just really love all the care that was put into the character acting in this show, and this moment is up there as one of the best.