#like at the end of the day the Dance is a criticism of succession and monarchy and civil war

[gameofthronedd]

The difference between Rhaenyra and Daenerys is this: whilst both are women making a claim to the throne, the latter is actively attempting to change the world via the abolition of slavery in Essos.

The former is not attempting to change the world or Westeros. Show-only, she wants the throne because 1) the song of ice and fire and 2) she was made heir, and she goes to war because of what happens to her sons. Never does she attempt to change the foundations of Westeros' political sphere. See: not opposing male primogeniture when it comes to her sons & potential future children of her sons. Also, her attitude towards Rhaenys being overlooked.

I know there seems to be a general attitude/belief that Rhaenyra is going to overturn Westerosi tradition and make it more egalitarian/favourable to women, but that is not the case pre-war or during the conflict. She is not exempt from the patriarchal system and nor is she some outlier who seeks to destroy it. As far as we know, in terms of succession, if Rhaenyra became Queen then her heir would be Jace (and his heir would be his son, so on and so forth). Her intentions for becoming Queen are not "feminist" and are not about emancipation of women, and aren't even about challenging male primogeniture. For Rhaenyra, it's about upholding the perceived law as laid by her father when naming her heir as well as, to a lesser extent, Aegon's dream and Rhaenyra desiring to "unite the realm" because her father believed she should carry the Targ dynasty forward. And, then, of course, she is going to war because of Luke's death.

Just some thoughts. I like Rhaenyra but it grates on my nerves when some people treat her character as if she's some badass feminist who's going to change the Westerosi world. She isn't Dany, that's basically what I'm trying to say.

I know we all loved Dany, especially a lot of Nyra stans loved Dany too, but they are fundamentally different characters (obviously) and whilst it's easy to see some similarities, conflating the two will result in reductions of their characters. They are different and have different intentions and motivations, and that's okay.

[pinkacademiaprincess]

“she’s like a real life elle woods…”

fictional study icons guide, part 2: elle woods

relentlessly chase your goals

similar to rory, elle set her sights on harvard law and let nothing get in her way. people doubted her, she had no background in law, and nevertheless she made it happen. having a goal and wanting something is one thing, but you have to make it happen. elle spoke with an academic counselor, created a plan for herself, and meticulously checked off all the requirements. you can’t just sit around and hope you get what you want! determine the end goal, outline all the steps that you need to take to get there, and get to it.

have faith in yourself

throughout the process of getting into and attending harvard law, elle dealt with so many people who doubted her, were mean, and underestimated her. if she listened to all those people, she never would have applied or stayed in law school. no one knows you like you know yourself, so do not let strangers’ negative opinions of you rule your life. people assumed elle was unintelligent and not fit for law school, but she knew that she could succeed and she did. no one decides what you can or can’t do but you. tune out any criticism that isn’t constructive, focus on your strengths, and seek your goals.

let your personality shine

elle always had a strong sense of self. even when she started going to law school, in a totally new environment from her previous college, she stayed true to her personality. she continued dressing in pink outfits, getting her hair & nails done, and got school supplies to match her girly aesthetic. when you go to class, let your personality show through your outfits, accessories, school supplies - find little ways to bring yourself happiness through self- expression. especially when school and classes might seem to rule your life, these small personal touches will help keep you positive.

study with others

elle used the tactic of studying with others to help stay focused & accountable. when she was studying for the lsat, she had one of her sorority sisters keep her on track & practice with her. for some, it can be helpful to “body double,” or to have someone else with you while you study/ work to keep you on task. it might also help to have a study buddy to quiz you and work through problems together. at harvard she also tries to join a study group, which shows she generally thrives when studying/ working in a group setting. if this is something that works for you, find a classmate or group of classmates willing to meet up & body double or study together!

stay active

nowadays, a lot of schooling requires you to either sit at a laptop or hunch over notes for countless hours of your day. being seated for so long with questionable posture is not good for you, humans are meant to be active! elle is shown walking on a treadmill while she studies, and combining physical activity with schoolwork can be really effective for some. engaging your body while engaging your mind might help you focus better. otherwise, try to get some daily movement to give your body a break from being stiff & seated. find physical activity that you enjoy - going for walks outdoors, taking a sports class, hitting the gym, doing a youtube workout video, playing music & dancing like a maniac - move your body and have fun with it! in the words of elle, “exercise gives you endorphins, endorphins make you happy.”

pet therapy!

elle woods is always accompanied by her beloved chihuahua bruiser. spending time with animals is a great way to boost your mood & relieve stress. if you have a pet, spending time with them, petting them, having them in your lap or nearby are all ways you can take advantage of their presence to feel happier & more relaxed.

that’s all! elle is such an inspiration to me tbh. she really embodies that being true to yourself & being kind to others are the keys to success. good luck in your studies! 🩷

[gemini-stories]

remember me (2) | j.wy x reader

synopsis: the years may have passed but he always remembered you. even when you didn't. pairing: wooyoung x fem!reader genre: idol!AU, friends to strangers to partners to lovers (?), smut (minors do not interact!!) warnings: idol wooyoung, idol reader, smut, swearing, a tad bit of angst, mutual pining, oh.oh (I really wanted to use this trope in this story!), unprotected vaginal penetration (bad irl!!), mirrors (iykik), reader is bitchy, wooyoung finally stands up for himself (and the end makes him happy:D), miscommunication (I hate this but I swear there's a reason for it). nothing too dirty but if I miss anything pls let me know! word count: 5.1k ish a/n: when I first got the idea for this I thought I knew exactly where it was going. I was so wrong:)) the story kinda wrote itself in the end. I wanted to apologise for the miscommunication trope but it was so necessary for the development of both reader's and wy's development (don't hate me too much, it was all good in the end:D). as usual I’m open to any feedback and criticism so don’t be shy to let me know!! ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡ previous part ─────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────

“You did what?” Hajun started laughing.

“You heard me the first time,” you rolled your eyes, reaching for the takeout Hajun brought to you half an hour ago, when you called him for an embarrassing emergency.

“Obviously I did. But I wanted you to say again how you sat on the pretty boy’s face.”

You couldn’t say the whole situation happened out of nowhere. You couldn’t deny the tension between you only got stronger since the stupid sexy dance.

You expected Wooyoung to mention your little very hot interaction. But he didn’t! He was acting as if nothing happened, back to being the sloppy, careless, unreliable, and spineless self.

And that pissed you off even more. Was he ever going to mention anything? How long were you going to wait? You gave him plenty of opportunities! Right? You were the one that went to him first. And what did he do? Pretend you never met, never existed. Unimpressed. Careless. 

Sloppy. Unreliable. 

And spineless. 

“All I’m saying is, you two seemed to enjoy each other. So I see nothing wrong about it,” Hajun continued slurping from his drink.

“It’s more complicated than that.”

“Dude, what complications?” he asked skeptically.

“I can give you about a gazillion..dude.”

“If it’s about our eternal love, I can take my pity ass and my heartbroken heart and disappear in the sunset,” he wiped a fake tear from his right eye. To which you could only reply by laughing.

“No, but I’m serious, you know our arrangement was never something that should be complicated and could be ended whenever it wasn’t useful for any of us.”

“I know,” you sighed, “and trust me this has nothing to do with it. I swear.”

“Then? What’s the problem?”

Then? What’s the problem? You. You were the problem. And your lack of sincerity. 

And Wooyoung’s.

But, oh well, two could play this game. If he was not going to say anything, why would you. You continued your practice like before. Him messing up, as usual. And you bitching about it with snarky remarks, as usual. Him never replying back, as usual. And you getting more pissed because of it, as usual.

You tried to ignore the feeling of his touch, and the electricity it was sending to your body each time. Thinking about dead unicorns should help.

His hands glided over your thighs, ripping your skin with them, leaving you open and raw, falling into his arms. Finally, this dance move was a success, at the price of you being skinned alive. You looked into his eyes. Really looked. And could only silently beg him to look back into yours. Really look. 

“Are you ok?” Hongjoong asked. You were almost finalising your studio session of the day and to say that you were distracted was not enough. You were not your talkative opinionated self and that was making Hongoong slightly uncomfortable. He felt you staring at the screens over his shoulder the whole time, without you making any remarks to the changes he was making to the song segments. It was too weird for him. He had to ask. It was your decision if you were going to be honest or not.

“Why did you propose for Wooyoung to be my partner when I told you I was looking for one?” you asked absentmindedly. 

“Did he do something?” he turned to face you. “Did he say something? What did he do?”

You kinda mentally chuckled at the thought of Wooyoung misbehaving so much that this was Hongjoong’s first thought, that he did something. Not that he was wrong though. He did more than something. He said more than something too…focus. Dead unicorns.

“Nothing, nothing. I was just curious.” You nudged.

“Oh, okay. Well, he is the best dancer I know. So, I thought it would be a great solution for you and a great opportunity for him, for a great collaboration with the second best dancer I know,” he smiled.

“How dare you?” you gasped, pretending to be offended. “At least tell me I’m the best singer you produced a song for. So I can forgive this audacity!”

To which Hongjoong remained silent and continued to smile, returning to his work. 

“Rude,” you scoffed.

If only Wooyoung could live up to Hongjoong’s title. You knew he was great. Amazing even. You were an Ateez fan after all. You knew what he was capable of. You watched all his performances. So why was he not giving his best with you too. 

You two had another video call with the choreographer, after your latest dance video submission. He was disappointed and he was trying really hard to hide it. 

“Wooyoung, I watched some of your videos man, and what I see now doesn’t seem like you.”

Exactly what you were thinking!

“And you Y/N, we worked together for years. I know you. This doesn’t seem like you either,” he sighed. “The second choreography was meant to strengthen your chemistry, not make it worse. Please, try it again for a couple of days and then go back to your routine. Accept each other’s movements.”

How could you go back to the second, hot and dangerous choreography. You both silently agreed to not mention it again. Dead unicorns, right?

You were stiff.

He was flustered.

This was never going to work out.

“What is this?” you asked reaching for the small pink box from the bench where you’d usually leave your bag at the beginning of the practice.

“I, I wanted to apologise,” Wooyoung started with a shy smile, “for everything. Everything.”

You opened the box to find a dozen bunny shaped biscuits, topped with white icing. The asshole.

“No thanks, I don’t eat sugar.”

The room turned a couple degrees colder. You politely closed the box and put it back on the bench, starting your morning practice.

Nothing was working how you wanted. For the first time in weeks it was you making stupid mistakes. Wooyoung was doing god’s work trying not to start laughing at every mistake. The fact that he was aware of your mistakes was making you even more self-conscious and you hated feeling that. You knew exactly when was the last time you felt like that and you swore to yourself to never feel like that again. But here you were now. In this situation. And there was only one asshole to blame. 

“Did you really think that apology was going to work?” You couldn’t keep it in you anymore and asked staring into his eyes, when he was on top of you.

“What?” He stopped in the middle of his step.

“The stupid biscuits, what were you thinking?”

“I thought it would be a nice gesture. How should I know you don’t eat sugar?”

You groaned loudly, continuing your steps.

“It’s not even about the sugar.”

Wooyoung was so confused. You were always weirdly cryptic in a mad way, but this time it was…weird in a weird way. Most of the times you were annoyed by things he was not doing, and this was a first - being annoyed by something he did do?

He was surprised you never mentioned the incident. He didn’t want to be too greedy so he didn’t do it first.  He could swear something possessed him that day. He was so…cheeky that day. Was he cheeky with his partners before? Sure. Would he have done something like this with someone else? Of course! 

How did he do it with you? He couldn’t comprehend. He was never cheeky with you. For god’s sake he couldn’t even argue with you when you kept bitching during practice. 

So what on earth went through his mind? 

The same nasty thoughts he always had when he thinks of you. The same nasty thoughts he always had when you were in a five meter radius from him.

The same nasty thoughts he always had when he touched you.

He blushed the whole way home that day. He blushed while getting ready for bed. He blushed while taking a shower. He blushed while drawing stupid hearts on the shower glass. He blushed while taking a picture. He blushed while thinking of you when writing the caption. He blushed when he saw you liked the post. 

He was so far gone.

All the possible conversation scenarios went through his mind that night and he was ready to have any sort of uncomfortable talk with you. But you acted like nothing happened and didn’t say anything. So he didn’t either.

He thought about apologizing. For everything. And what better way than with something sweet. Two things that were always recurrent on your old instagram were bunnies and desserts. So he thought, what could go wrong with some bunny biscuits. Right? 

Apparently many things because you were mad about it. For some reason Wooyoung couldn’t understand. It was a different type of mad from the one you constantly showed in the past weeks. It was more of a sulky mad, which Wooyoung actually found adorable. 

But nevertheless you were mad. And that never helped your dance practices before, it wasn’t going to help now either.

It was most certainly not helping you while getting flustered during the dance.

You mentally refused to call for Hajun in the past days, especially for your quick breaks during the day. You really wanted to, but you couldn’t. A different person was flying through your thoughts when you were thinking about it. Your arrangement with Hajun was nice and convenient but you’d never fuck him while thinking of someone else. You were not like that. 

So you were left just with your thoughts.

And the memory of that day.

How hot and electrifying it was. How hot and electrifying he was. Nope. Dead unicorns!

“Is your dance practice going well?” Hongjoong questioned Wooyoung after just arriving at the studio with a bag of take out that Hongjoong asked for.

“Amazing.” Wooyoung breathed, paying attention to the food packages, looking for something he could nibble on. “Why?”

“Y/N cancelled our session today saying she wants to focus on the dance as there’s ‘some setbacks that she couldn’t foresee’”, he emphasized with air quotes and squinting his eyes. “What did you do?”

Wooyoung scoffed. “Why do you think I did something? We weren’t supposed to practice today and I have no clue what these ‘setbacks’ are about. Maybe she didn’t want to see you today and lied about it. Did you think about that?” he giggled while stealing some fries from Hongjoong’s plate.

“Y/N wouldn’t lie.” Hongjoong stated matter of factly, as if he stated the sky is blue.

He was honest about it as he was honest about the image he had of you - sincere, hardworking, professional and sweet and caring and, and definitely not a liar that avoids a day of work.

Wooyoung rolled his eyes. Of course she wouldn’t. 

Okay, maybe indeed you wouldn’t lie. Break promises? Forget about them? Stamp on them? All plausible events.

“You know what I don’t get?” Hongjoong continued opening his sauce.

“I have a really long list. With what do you want me to start?” 

“You think you’re smart, dumbass?”

“I do, in fact.” Wooyoung smiled proudly.

“Nevermind then.” Hongjoong hated how Wooyoung wasn’t serious about this conversation. He wasn’t serious from the beginning and Hongjoong thought it was just a caprice. One that continued for longer than he expected. The reason why he really wanted to understand what this was all about.

“Come on, don’t start sulking like a bitch and tell me!”

“I know you are a stupid fanboy in, what you think is a secret, but when you talk about her you sound like you hate her. What’s up with it, it’s weird dude.”

From all the item’s on Wooyoung’s list, this was not one. Did he really make it sound like he hates you? Was he stupid? He didn’t want the others to know that he admires you so much so they wouldn’t tease him about it, but he didn’t want the opposite either…from the outside perspective it looks like he hates you?

“I don’t hate her. I could never hate her.'' He was looking anywhere but at Hongjoong, not being able to face him, now embarrassed by himself. 

“I know that. But if you act with her like how you talk to me about her, I have bad news for you.”

“It’s…complicated.”

“Complicated for who? You? Then uncomplicate it.” Hongjoong sighed. “We can’t afford not having great results out of this collaboration. It’s not only good for you or for me. It’s good for all of us. Don’t. Fuck. It. Up.”

Is he fucking it up?

He scrolled through his camera roll until he found the picture he was looking for. A picture of the red velvet cake he bought a few days ago as a nice gesture for the team. The cake was cut in eight even slices, with one slice missing, that he ate by himself because he was too impatient to wait for everyone to be back home and eat it together. Maybe he was always a little bit too impatient and expected too much from others.

He edited the picture, putting a filter over it, that would fit the rest of his feed and posted it on his secret account with the caption: ‘I bleed on the plate in front of you and you sip my blood even though you are not thirsty.’

You sighed looking at the picture and reading the caption and put your phone aside. You were alone in the dance room, trying to take your mind from anything else but dancing. You had to admit, Wooyoung was not the only one making mistakes. You had to focus and get it done with it!

The last time you felt so incompetent while dancing was in your first year you took lessons. You were maybe five or six. You didn’t understand much, thinking that dancing is just vibing with the music. You cried at your first competition after making a mistake on stage, making you feel not good enough. You promised yourself then and there to never feel like that again. And you never did again. 

You were startled when the door opened and Wooyoung entered, holding a small pink box.

“We were supposed to have the day off from practice today. What are you doing here?”

“That’s what I should ask you,” he smiled a sweet smile. “I wanted to bring you some of this, I swear they have no sugar,” he passed you the small box that you opened and saw the same bunny shapes. It was crackers this time, no sugar. “It’s from this bakery that I really like and I swear it’s really nice.”

You scoffed, closing your eyes and clenching your jaw. “Why are you doing this?”

“I thought it would be nice.”

You pushed the box back to him and looked up straight into his eyes. “Why the fucking bunnies?’

“I thought you’d like them.”

“Why? Why would you think I’d like them?”

Please, for once, say it.

“Because they are cute?”

“For fuck’s sake Wooyoung,” you turned your back to him, pretending to go back to your practice. “Forget about it.”

For once, when Wooyoung got annoyed he did talk back to you. He wanted to just leave. If you didn’t want his gift he wasn’t going to insist. But you had to go and run your mouth and touch his most sensitive nerve. Too bad. “That might be something that you can easily do. But I don’t!”

Were you hearing right? He talked back! Finally. Too bad he also had the audacity. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“I never forget anything important to me,” he continued.

“Oh, sure you don’t forget anything,” you interrupted, mocking him.

“But it seems forgetting comes effortlessly for you. Since you probably don’t care about it, it doesn’t matter and it easily disappears from your mind, no?”

“I came to you!” you stopped his rambling. “And you forgot me! You forgot our promise! You forgot to fulfill it! I gave you so many chances and each time you acted as if you forgot everything. Even this stupid fucking choreography. I wanted to do it with you from the beginning. But then you acted like you never cared about it? You were late, you were not putting in effort, you were not even defending yourself.”

And it was out. You kept it in you for so long. It was bound to happen. Was it sort of kind of the reason why everything wrong that he was doing was making you so bitchy? Definitely yes. And now it was sort of kind of out in the open. You could finally confront him about him being the bad guy in your story.

“You, you knew all this time?”

He wasn’t sure he heard right. You knew. It wasn’t just him. But you too.

“I knew what? That we made a stupid promise that you never kept when we were ten? That we met again four years later and I came to you and you acted like you had no idea who I was? That the next year was the same? Even worse? That we were working in the same fucking industry but you never once remembered? Then, yes, yes I knew about all this.”

It was never a stupid promise. Never for him. Thanks to it he actually continued his dance lessons as a child. He ended up winning so many competitions. The scouts from the company noticed him. He debuted. He is here today, with you, preparing for the end of the year awards. He was always grateful for it, even when he thought you didn’t remember. It was never a stupid promise. 

“I never forgot. I knew it was you!”

He was unbelievable. 

“Then why didn’t you say anything?” you threw your hand in the air, in a sign of desperation. 

“I was embarrassed, okay?” Wooyoung fidgeted in place. It was the first time he was going to admit this out loud. Not even in his thoughts did he ever admit it. “Because I wasn’t able to keep the promise and win, I felt like a failure.” Indeed, he never fulfilled his side of the promise. He did win the competition, but he didn’t “snatch” the first place from you. You were not there. And that was the only reason he was able to win. Which was proved years later when you two were competing against each other and you effortlessly won. He never got first place with you there.  

“This is so dumb. I only made that promise with you because I thought you were sweet and cute,” you blushed, “and I didn't want you to abandon dancing, and I wanted to see you again the next year!”

“But you moved away.” He stopped your train of thoughts. As if he found the flaw in your story. It was 100% not only his fault here. 

“But I moved away. And I was still hoping you’d win the stupid competitions so we’d meet at regionals!” Fair excuse. In fact, it was not your fault that you moved. You were too young and you were going where your parents were going.

“But then you acted like you didn’t know me there.” See? Another flaw in your story.

“I wanted to see if you remembered me! And it was obvious to me you didn’t!” Which seemed perfectly reasonable to your fourteen year old brain. Now? Not as much. But back then you could swear this was the most romantic thing you could think of - testing to see if he’d remember. Almost like testing the power of destiny. 

“I wanted to see if you remembered me! I didn’t want to embarrass myself even more, hanging on to a promise from years ago.” Valid. Very valid. Extremely valid. Both to his fourteen year old self and the present self.

“Oh my god?” you groaned. “Not even when I made this whole elaborated plan to have you as my dance partner couldn’t you tell? It took me months to think of something.” 

“You did say your favourite was Hongjoong though. That reinforced to me that you didn’t remember me in fact.”

You groaned. After you debuted you gave up on seeing Wooyoung again. He remained a bittersweet memory in your mind, thinking of him constantly. Wondering what he was up to. Then he debuted as well. The universe was really giving you another chance.

Now, you only had to find a way to be together and see if maybe maybe he could remember you. Which was obviously not easy. Be it award shows, or music shows, it was never the right moment or the right time.

Then an interesting thought crept into your mind. You were going to work on your solo album and have an important  dance segment. You could definitely have a collaboration of some sorts with him. But how were you going to ask for it without it being too suspicious. 

You never lied by saying you wanted to have a song produced by Hongjoong! It was just such a wonderful result of how your plan was going to work. 

“I was giving you signs too!” Wooyoung complained. 

“What?” you got closer to him. “The bunnies?” you raised your chin to face him. “The pictures with cryptic verses?” you squinted your eyes.

“What pictures with cryptic verse?”

There was no way you knew about it. You couldn’t. How could you?

“Don’t act dumb now. I know all about your secret account. And I know you know I know. I even followed you!”

Wooyoung was panicking. “How did you know it was mine?”

“Oh please, the profile picture is your hand as a pinky promise,” you started, “and some things you were writing were fitting with things you were doing.” you felt your cheeks burn just a little bit.

“Like what?” maybe you were bluffing, or simply testing him, as it seems you were testing him constantly. Nevertheless, he was curious what gave him away. It couldn’t have been just the profile pictures. 

“You know…things.”

“I actually don’t,” he looked down at you through hooded eyes, suspicious. You were fucking bluffing!

You avoided his glare, looking away when you finally said with a small voice, “The shower heart convinced me it was you.”

Oh. Oh.

So it was like that. The unspeakable.

“See, that’s another event you were acting like it never happened and you never mentioned it.”

“You never mentioned it either,” you opened your eyes accusingly. 

“Why do you keep waiting for me to do things first?” he closed the distance between your faces, breathing you in. “What was I supposed to say? Can you sit on my face again? Would you allow me the privilege to eat you out again?”

“I didn’t… I never…You…could’ve…” you swallowed your words because anyways you didn’t know what you wanted to say.

Wooyoung chuckled at your loss of words, couldn’t believe you were not having a comeback. It was fairly easy to do and he scolded himself for not doing it earlier, as you were too cute squirming there not uttering a word back to him.

“Cat got your tongue, huh?” he smirked, eyeing your lips. He wanted to test this limit of yours. 

“Don’t be an asshole.” And…you were back to your bitchy defensive self.

“Oh, I’m the asshole? Don’t act like I’m the bad guy now.”

“No. I don’t act anything. Yes, you are the bad guy in my story. So what, I am probably the bad guy in your story. You know we are all bad guys in someone’s story.” You could ramble on and on, deflecting the attention from you to whatever you were trying to say.

Wooyoung cupped your cheek bringing back your attention to him. “Can you just… shut the fuck up for once and let me kiss you.”

He pressed his lips on yours, shyly nibbling at your lower lip. He deepened the kiss, lowering his hand on the side of your neck. You smiled against his lips and shortly giggled.

“What’s so funny?” Wooyoung furrowed his brows. 

“You are acting differently.” You started playing with the zipper of his hoodie, unsure if you should say this. “One day you don’t even look me in the eyes and then the next you tell me to shut up and you do this?” 

Wooyoung’s lips curled into a sheepish smile.

“You mean this?” And kissed you again, deeper and sloppier. “You just got me acting up.”

It was so easy for you to get lost into the kiss, feeling it like a warm embrace in your whole body. 

“I think I might like you more when you actually talk back,” you said in between kisses, trying to gasp for air.

He continued a trail of kisses on your neck, which you found extremely dangerous.

“Maybe we should practice the choreography,” you whispered.

“I thought we were not supposed to practice today,” he breathed on your skin.

“Well since you came all the way here, we shouldn’t waste any time, right? Time is ticking and we should send a new recording.”

You felt his other hand caressing your waist. You really wished you weren’t wearing a sweater. He stopped his sweet sweet kisses and looked at you.

“I think I might like you more when you shut up,” he grinned a shit-eating grin.

“Smartass.”

You did say you liked him more when he was talking back and that was exactly what he was doing.

He didn’t remove his hand from you, one still resting on the small of your back and one still kneading your neck. He was waiting for your next move. If you really wanted to practice, that’s what he was going to do. If not, he also had other ideas.

“Fuck it,” you sighed, reaching for his lips. 

You kissed him exactly how you wanted to kiss him the day he entered through the door of your practice room, hungrily and passionatly. 

Wooyoung’s hands found their way under your sweater, gliding on your bare back for the first time and sending shivers through your body.

“Tell me to stop,” he gasped.

“Please don’t stop,” you breathed.

That was the moment the flip switched in his brain. You chose the section option. To hell with the dance practice.

He guided you to the nearest wall, where you could finally rest against something. You could swear your knees were going to fail on you. 

You quickly unzipped his hoodie and peeled it off him smoothly. He wasted no time and took off his shirt in a swift motion. You trailed the lines of his chest with your fingers, leaving the ghost of your touch burning up his skin.

“One from me, one from you,” he tugged at the hem of your sweater. You raised your arms letting him take it off for you. You wanted to see him work for it. He removed your white top without warning, leaving you half naked.

“That was actually two from me,” you chuckled.

He was kissing the top of your breasts. Licking and delicately biting your soft spots.

“How beautiful,” he whispered against your skin.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, completely leaning between the wall and him and his kisses. You could feel him through your thin leggings and you loved that you had this effect on him. You couldn’t help but slowly move your hips. Yup, you were hot and bothered. How could you not, when you were showered in his sweet kisses.

His hand traveled lower, under your leggings. 

“You do have a habit of not wearing underwear, huh?”

You felt your cheeks turning red. Yes, that was a habit you could say. A habit that you were so going to continue practicing from now on.

You unhooked your legs, allowing him to take off your leggings. He took his sweet time pulling them down, and then slowly kissing your leg up to your thigh, ending up with a sloppy kiss on top of your pussy.

He was in the middle of unzipping his pants when he stopped. “Fuck, I don’t have a condom.”

“That’s literally the last thing i care about right now,” you scoffed and unzipped his pants yourself.

Wooyoung gleamead and kissed your forehead tenderlly. “You are so perfect.”

You raised your right leg, to make space for him. He took out his cock, aligning himself at your entrance, slowly pushing himself inside you. 

Your hips were moving by themselves, you wanted him deeper and deeper. Closer and closer. All of him.

He grabbed your other leg too, hooking them both behind his back. You were wrapped around him, locking him in place. There was no other place he’d rather be except between your legs.

You were softly moaning in his ear and he could swear this was what heaven sounded like. 

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, increasing his pace, “this feels better than I ever imagined.”

Your lips pursed in a devilish smile, “You imagined this?”

“And so many other things.”

You could not get enough of him. Your eyes were rolling back in pleasure and you were struggling to keep them open and focus on the opposite wall’s mirrors. You could see Woyoung’s back reflecting in the mirrors, his back muscles flexing with every little thrust. You just wanted to have a bite of it. Too delicious to resist. You rested your head on his shoulder, kissing and grazing it with your teeth. That should do. For now.

Wooyoung grabbed your ass cheeks, squeezing them, trying to pull you closer. You were feeling your orgasm, almost there, ready to make you explode and see fireworks.

“So good.” 

“So beautiful.”

“So perfect.”

His praises were what sent you over the edge, riding through your high. For which he was thanking all the gods as he was ready to cum the moment he first kissed you. 

He quickly pulled out as he felt he was going to cum and finished on your stomach. You looked down to your stomach, that was now wet and sticky.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t get to ask. And I didn’t want to finish inside without asking.” He was breathing hecticly, recovering from his high.

You touched your stomach, your legs still hooked around him. You traced your fingers through his mess and brought them close to your lips, licking them clean, while keeping eye contact with him.

“You are killing me.” He said, looking up at the ceiling, trying to contain himself.

But oh his neck looked so beautiful.

And you definitely weren’t able to contain yourself, so you started kissing it.

“You’ll make me hard again,” he chuckled. 

“And?” You smiled against his skin. “Didn’t you say you imagined more things? Show me what you had in mind.” | © 2024 gemini-stories All Rights Reserved.

[poweringthroughthis]

trouble maker | wong yukhei

sfw (suggestive at the end, a curse word)

ship: lucas x male reader

desc: lucas and (name) hate each other for the stupidest of reasons. but as their debut showcase approaches, they realize they might have to work together.

The tension between lucas and (name) was palpable as they sneakily eyed each other in the practice room, waiting their days for their turn to debut in the kpop industry. The two were set to take the world of music by a storm in their respective duos.

Their agency was committed to try out a new style of teams. With the globalization of kpop and gradually spreading acceptance for queer idols(thanks to icons like Holland), the officials deemed it fit to launch two different duos, all males, centering their primary concept on 'chemistry' or 'love'.

(name) and his teammate Mark, panted in their ending pose, backs touching each other's as the music finished playing. lucas and hendery were observing them with keen eyes, catching their breaths after finishing their round of rehearsals earlier.

hendery whistled, "that was amazing guys!", complimenting his labelmates as Mark and (name) offered tired smiles. the latter turned to smirk at lucas who looked annoyed at hendery's praise for their competitors.

"yeah, (name) can dance" lucas started, "..for a beanpole., he finished with a light snort, making the taller male sport an angered look.

"fuck off, shortie. at least i don't need a ladder to reach the top shelf" he retorted.

"that's an exaggeration. and at least i don't have a face that looks like a deer caught in headlights!"

"you-" the fiery exchange was interrupted as the door to the room opened, the common manager-to-be of both duos making an appearance, instantly making the 4 males stand up as the man never barges in during practice unless it is important.

"Guys." he began with a serious tone and a hint of restlessness in his tone. "we need to talk. there's been some..changes".

"Is this what I think it is?" Mark was the first one to inquire, indirectly voicing out each trainee's worst fear but the manager was quick to intercept.

"No, no. God, no. you boys are still debuting. you deserve it. but there are some..line-up changes. apparently, the company now feels it's a waste of potential variety to debut two duos in the same concept. "

the boys exchanged looks with each other. they'd been together for a while now, going through thick and thin as good friends. it'd be a shame to part ways so close to their debut, after promising to fulfill their dreams together.

"so we had a meeting and decided on one hip-hop duo, and the other to continue in the same theme. naturally, hendery and mark have been paired up together as they fit the rap concept more." he finished explaining the news.

soon after, the manager had left, leaving the boys reeling from the news. at least it was no new members and the 4 were only shuffled amongst themselves, they told each other.

days passed, and mark and hendery started spending more time in the studio instead of dance practices, working on their verses. having love for hip-hop since forever, the two seemed happy which reassured their friends.

lucas and (name), on the other hand, were having a hard time toleration one another. even though they were extremely professional, personal feelings kept aside as long as the song played but despite their undeniable talent and charisma, their constant bickering threatened to overshadow their potential success.

the dynamic between the two was anything but harmonious. they clashed over everything, from song choices to choreography to who should get more screen time in their debut music video. each disagreement only served to fuel their rivalry, pushing them further apart even as they were forced to work together for the sake of their debut.

One particularly heated argument erupted during a late-night rehearsal, when Lucas criticized (name)'s dance moves as sloppy and uncoordinated. "You move like a clumsy giraffe," he taunted, earning a scowl from the taller.

"Maybe I'd dance better if I didn't have to carry your dead weight on stage," he snapped back, his patience wearing thin. he stormed out of the room, both of them fuming.

they couldn't go on like this. no matter how good they perform on stage, if the dynamic behind the scenes was going to be this flaming, their stardom was destined to be short-lived.

But just as it seemed like their partnership was doomed to failure, a moment of unexpected vulnerability changed everything. after a late-night practice session, (name) accidentally let slip a personal insecurity that had been weighing heavily on his mind, causing lucas to pause in surprise from drinking water.

"I never asked to be taller than everyone else, you know?" he admitted, his usually confident facade crumbling in the face of his insecurity. "It's not easy standing out in a crowd for all the wrong reasons."

Lucas, who had always viewed (name) as an annoying trainee to be defeated, suddenly saw him in a different light. He realized that beneath the bravado and insults, there was a person with their own struggles and insecurities, just like himself.

In that moment of shared vulnerability, the walls between them crumbled, and a newfound understanding and respect blossomed. They put aside their petty disagreements and focused on their shared goal of creating something truly special together.

they had seen each other work their asses off for this and they decided to let the world know just that.

as the day of their debut finally arrived, Lucas and (name) took to the stage with a newfound sense of unity and purpose. the practice sessions leading up to the fateful day had a new emotion lingering in the dance room: admiration. which slowly seemed to blossom into newfound feelings. those of fondness and liking.

Their performance was nothing short of spectacular. their voices blended harmoniously, their dance moves synchronized effortlessly, and their stage presence was nothing short of electrifying. there was no denying the undeniable chemistry between them when they performed together. after their debut song, the suggestive moves in the duo's dance cover of the song 'troublemaker' had the audience gasping for air. they had prepared this one as a surprise to make a bold statement on their first day at work. they weren't to be taken lightly.

Cheers and applause resounded at the music bank set as Lucas and (name) took their final bow. And as they stood with foreheads resting against each other's, breathless and full of adrenaline, there was no trace of animosity between them, only a shared sense of accomplishment and by the tension, a budding romance.

Lucas turned to (name), a smirk on his face. "hey doe eyes, you ready for our next performance?" he asked, gesturing to the empty hall while taking off their microphones.

"bring in on, shortie" (name) winked in response, as he walked towards an empty room without looking back, gesturing for lucas to follow him using his index finger.

"let's see how much of a 'trouble maker' you can actually be, shall we?"

[goosewriting]

Like a Lost Dalmatian

summary: after the accident at Alchemax, Jonathan Ohnn is nowhere to be found, until he finally finds his way home. but he’s not the same as he once was. 

relationship: The Spot x gn!reader

warnings: hurt & comfort, my try at describing what his skin feels like lmao

word count: 2.6k 

A/N: the very moment i saw spot in the movie trailer, i knew he’d be my fav. and finally i got around to writing something for him. i just want him to be happy 😩<3 

(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)

— — —

It’s been a week since the accident. What exactly happened, you still don’t know. You only know there were  sightings of several spider-people in the city after Spiderman died. Phenomena that you could only describe as “glitches” started spreading throughout the city, and Jonathan had told you to stay inside.

That was seven days ago. You haven’t heard from your boyfriend since.

It isn’t rare for him to have delayed responses to your texts, especially when there’s a time crunch at work. You’re still not sure what exactly they worked on at Alchemax, but whatever his role was, it was fairly important. And this time it clearly went very wrong, one of your biggest fears becoming a reality: the image of a scientist mixing liquids from different vials appears in your brain. The two substances swirl, mixing together, and the scientist almost gives in to thinking it was successful, but then it ends in an explosion. Except that it wasn’t just a random scientist coughing through the smoke his little experiment caused, while taking off the goggles that left a cartoony imprint on his face. No, this time it was the real world, and the whole Alchemax building exploded. The building where your boyfriend works.

With a shaky sigh, you scroll through your chat history for what feels like the hundredth time today; still no new messages from him. You’ve been calling nearby hospitals and the police station every morning and every evening, but you still refuse to lose hope.

But you don’t allow yourself to let the image of Jonathan buried under several tons of rubble into your brain. He’s smart. He's resourceful. And he’s careful. You know the last project at Alchemax was very important, and he talked passionately about it for weeks on end. If he saw danger approaching, he’d leave. He must have. He wouldn’t be stubborn enough to stay back to try and save some of his research with the building literally falling apart over him, right? … Right?

You shake your head to rid yourself of those thoughts. After giving your phone one last hopeful look that immediately turns sour, you groan in frustration, throwing the device onto the couch cushion next to you. Bringing up your knees to your chin, you hug your legs and look out the window of your flat. Your floor is pretty high up, so the setting sunlight dances over the skyline, bathing part of your floors and furniture in a warm golden hue. Your gaze follows some of the glistening particles in the air, resenting the sun for giving you such a view without being able to share it with Jonathan. He would have loved it, stretching out his hand and looking at the light shining through his fingers like a veil of gold, telling you some fun facts about photons or something. 

A sniffle escapes you, and your face contorts into a grimace, trying to hold back your tears. No, not yet, you tell yourself. If I give in, I'll be mourning. And if I do that, it means I’ve accepted he’s—

Your train of thought is interrupted by the sound of the entrance door clicking shut. Quickly wiping over your face with the back of your sleeve, you get up to your feet, looking around your living room for something to weaponise. However, the only things on your coffee table are the remains of the barely touched take-out you had for dinner. Grabbing the plastic fork, you hold it in front of you menacingly. 

“Who's there?” you demand, taking a careful step towards the hallway. You hear some shuffling and curses under someone’s breath.

“Don’t make me ask you again,” you say, louder this time. “You seriously chose the wrong place to rob today.”

Just as you turn the corner to the short hallway leading to the front door, you choke back a gasp, fork still in hand, albeit trembling slightly.

Even though it’s rather dark, as the sunlight from the windows doesn’t reach this far, you see there’s a person in front of you. Or at least you think it’s a person? Perhaps more of a person-shaped blob, that hurriedly puts on Jonathan's coat, scarf and beanie that were hanging on the rack next to the door.

“Hey, you take those off!” you start, about to approach the stranger.

“Wait!” he says, and you stop abruptly, the fork falling from your hand as you recognise his voice. “Please don’t freak out, a-and don’t come closer. Please.”

You stand frozen in place for a moment, your brain reeling. The wave of relief and happiness from knowing Jonathan's alive clashes with another, much bigger one: the clear feeling that something isn’t right. It feels very close to dread. 

“Okay,” you speak much more gently now. As you take a deep breath, you inspect him further: the coat reaches to his knees, but he doesn’t seem to be wearing trousers underneath, nor shoes. His face is covered by the hat and scarf that he wrapped around his whole head several times. His legs, his hands, and every other visible part of him is of a strange chalk-like white colour with some darker parts, but the lack of proper light might be playing a trick on you. So without hesitating, you take the steps needed to reach the light switch, and Jonathan shrinks in on himself with a slight shriek when the hallway lights up, trying to cover himself even more.

“Don’t look at me, not yet!” he essentially pleads, turning his back to you. “There's some explaining to do before you see me.”

“You’re damn right you have to explain yourself,” you retort, perhaps a little harsher than intended. “I thought you were dead, Jonathan. Where were you?!”

“There… there was an accident,” the man before you starts explaining, and you cross your arms over your chest defensively. 

“Yeah, no kidding,” you mutter. You can see that he’s fidgeting with the hem of the scarf, and you let your arms fall to your sides again with a sigh.

“Did you get hurt? Do you have, like, a huge scar? Singed your eyebrows off?” you try to sound reassuring, but his whole demeanour is just… odd. “Whatever it is, Jonathan, I'm sure it’s fine. Let me see. Please?”

As you talk, you shorten the distance and reach him, gently placing your hand on his arm. It breaks your heart a little that he flinches at that. It's clear he wants to shake you off, but he lets you turn him around to face you, and you start by taking off the heavy coat, letting it fall to the floor as it slides off of him.

You’re taken aback at the sight, as where you expected there to be a human body in the shape of your boyfriend, there now was a rather comically proportioned one, sans clothes, completely white with dark spots all over.

“Is that a new onesie?” you try to joke, but your voice betrays you. Jonathan doesn’t react. Instead, his large hands shoot up to grab your wrists as you’re about to untangle the scarf.

“Please don’t freak out,” is all he says, and you pull the rest of the garments off of him. You take a step back away from him and bring your hands up to cover your mouth when you see him. 

“Where’s your face?!” you ask with a mix of confusion, fear, and even some strange fascination at the sight before you. Jonathan goes on to tell you about the reactor at Alchemax, how they were trying to cross the bridge to a different dimension, and instead ended up bringing spider-people to this universe. He doesn’t hide the resentment in his voice when he talks about how in the end, the new Spiderman with the black suit blew it all up while he was still there. While he talks, you keep walking around him, looking at this new body of his, poking him here and there. 

Once he’s done explaining, you look at the big, oval black spot on his face for a long moment, then quickly pinch his belly.

“Ow! Stop- stop that!" Jonathan says, taking both of your hands in his to stop you from trying to poke and tickle him, and you chuckle. 

Wait, why are you laughing? This situation is… insane, honestly. He's clearly aggravated. As you should be too, you reprimand yourself. Why are you reacting like this? Lifting your gaze again to where his eyes would be, you erupt into a big smile as you can feel the tears coming, definitely of relief this time. 

“Are you… are you not mad?” Jonathan asks, carefully. You take one more moment to marvel at how he’s speaking when he has no mouth. 

“I mean… yes? No?” you shrug and shake your head in disbelief, holding onto his hand to guide him to the living room. “Sure, I'm mad because you wouldn’t answer my calls. But no, how could I be mad when you were probably… adjusting to—“ With your free hand, you gesture at him. “All of this.”

“Right, my phone,” Jonathan remembers, turning his face away from you for a moment, as if thinking back to something. “It must have… exploded. Like the rest of, well, everything.” 

You let go of his hand to cup his face and turn him to look at you. Well, at least you hope that’s what you’re doing.

“The only thing that matters, Jonathan, is that you’re alive,” you say, and you mean it. “And you’re back home. With me.”

His shoulders slump slightly at your words, and the spot on his face twirls to the side ever so slightly. It would take some time to learn how to read his new face, but you’re sure you’ll get there. 

“So you’re not… disgusted? You won’t tell me to pack my stuff and leave?” he asks in an impossibly small voice and you can feel your very soul shattering into a million pieces. 

“Is that why you took so long to come back?” you retort instead, grazing over the sides of his face with your thumbs. He nods. “Oh, Jonathan… If that isn’t proof that you’re still you in there, then I don’t know what is. And that's the very reason why I do, in fact, not care what you look like.”

You sit down on the couch, and when he follows, you pull his face closer to place a kiss on the white part at the side.

“I’ve always loved you, and always will. Still do,” you assure him, giving his other cheek a kiss as well, for good measure. Then you smile to yourself, unable to bite your tongue. “Of course I won't tell you to leave. Even when you do look like a lost Dalmatian.”

“Ah, there it is, okay,” he chuckles, and his whole body language changes, sitting a little more upright. He places his hands over yours, and even though there are no eyes, you can still feel his tender gaze on you. 

“I love you too,” he whispers in a shaky voice. “And right now I wish I still had lips,” he adds with a sigh. You chuckle.

“We’ll figure it out,” you assure him with a smile. Your hands fall from his face to his shoulders, and once again you find yourself exploring his white exterior, running your hands up and down on his arms, bringing your face closer to the spots to inspect them further.

“So, how does it feel?” you ask suddenly, brushing over his arm with your fingertips. He leans back, thinking it over.

“It’s… strange, for sure,” he starts, trying to put it into words. “I feel lighter, for some reason. Like my insides are made of paper or something. But I don’t think I’m that fragile.”

You hum in response, bringing your eyes up to the spot on his face.

“How can you see, though?” you wonder. “Or talk? Can you smell? Taste?”

“It’s hard to explain,” Jonathan says, tilting his head to the side. “My whole perception changed. It’s more like I can sense what is in front of me. Does that make sense?”

“Like echolocation?” you propose.

“Not really, I’m not producing any high-frequency sounds myself, so…” He straightens up again. “As for the rest of your question: I can still eat and taste and smell, which I’m very relieved about.”

“I bet!” you chuckle, and take one of his hands into both of yours, admiring the blue lines that seem to both wrap around and go through him all at once.

“How does it feel to you?” he asks after a moment. Your head whips back up to look at him. For a second you’re confused as to what he means, then you look back down at his hand.

“Oh, uhm,” you crease your brows in concentration, focusing on how Jonathan feels against your skin. “Well, at first it’s cool to the touch. But if you linger, there’s a warmth that irradiates from you. It’s also smooth, but there’s still some texture to it. Not like fabric, but not quite like paper either.”

Jonathan just nods, seeing that you’re still trying to come up with a better comparison.

“Oh! I know,” you finally say. “It’s like a dumpling. A big, pudgy dumpling. But dry, thankfully.”

“Pudgy?” he asks in mock offence, removing his hand from yours. 

“Well, yeah, you’re squishy!” you retort with a laugh, poking his side to make your point. 

Except that you didn’t poke anything, because instead of touching the white part, you look down at where your hand disappears into a black spot all the way to your wrist. You immediately pull back your hand, checking to see if all your fingers are still there. A sigh of relief leaves you as you see your limb is intact.

“Oh, yeah, be careful with those,” Jonathan warns, carefully plucking a spot from his arm with his index finger and thumb, then releasing it mid-air, where it levitates. He wriggles his fingers like a magician building suspense before pulling a rabbit out of his hat. “Check this out.” And with that, his hand is gone in the void. After a couple of seconds, he retracts his arm. The spot disappears and he places what he’s holding in your own hands. It’s the plastic fork you left in the hallway.

Your eyebrows are so high up in surprise, your forehead is all scrunched up. Your eyes go from the fork to his face, then back to the fork. 

“Your spots are… portals?” you ask in complete disbelief, your mind already coming up with a multitude of uses and things you want to try. But that will have to wait until tomorrow, because now that you have Jonathan back in (relatively) one piece, you can feel the sleep deprivation of the last couple of days catching up to you all at once. 

Standing up with effort, as your whole body feels impossibly heavy all of a sudden, you stretch out your hand to your boyfriend. 

“It’s late, let’s go to bed,” you say as he takes your hand. “Tomorrow we can start with the experiments.”

“E-Experiments?” he repeats in surprise.

“Well, duh,” you reply as if it was obvious. “We have to see how far your new powers can reach.”

“Right,” he says with a chuckle. This is such a you thing to propose given the whole situation. 

Despite not feeling his body like he once did, Jonathan is glad that at least the familiar warmth is still spreading within him when he looks at you.

~~~~~

🐥 taglist: [link to join in my pinned post!] @galaxtic-writings, @dybynyght, @wings-of-sapphire, @backalleygays

[comradekarin]

I saw your Beyonce/Taylor Swift post and What's wrong with "comparing two queens that are killing it". line? Isn't that what it comes down to with female artists? Why can't we just appreciate all female artists instead of the competitions?

I’m going to take this as you asking this question in good faith so here’s the short answer: No. There is nothing inherently wrong with that statement, and depending on the context, I agree with it. But here’s the long answer:

A lot of fandoms do take it upon themselves to start unnecessary, unprovoked beef between artists, especially female artists of color (i.e the Cardi and Nicki drama), consequently ruining the love a lot of people have for those artists. However, the Taylor and Beyoncè comparisons have a few problems I want to address that aren’t actually new when talking about female artists of color and their white counterparts. Firstly, the whole comparisons only started because of the uptick of insufferable swifties online discrediting all of the work, effort, and impact Beyoncé has had on people before and today (and Beyoncé fans are simply responding to these ridiculous claims). Secondly, swifties also have a strange tendency to compare her exclusively to objectively better black artists (Beyoncé, Prince, Michael Jackson, Whitney Houston, and more) by diminishing their work and influence in order to prop her up. Noticeable so, they never really do this with Taylor’s fellow white peers. It begs the question: Why do so many swifties feel the need to put Taylor on a pedestal by discrediting arguably more popular, influential black and queer artists? While I do agree with the notion that female artists should be celebrated and giving the props they deserve, we can no longer pretend that black artists like Beyoncé don’t have to give twice the effort, twice the dedication, twice the energy, and twice the style in order to be given their credit. Meanwhile, an artist like Taylor is rewarded and worshiped for her white mediocrity and performance activism, never really pressured to perform to the degree other black artists are expected to, or forced to show allyship when it really matters. So for her fans to degrade Beyoncé’s high quality vocals, performance, and production—which has been consistent and improving over the years—and be rightfully told off just to resort to the corny “let’s just celebrate all women” is, in my eyes, the epitome of white feminism.

Taylor’s fans have even admitted that she isn’t the best singer, only marketing herself as a good “songwriter”. Ok, so an artist that can’t sing that well, can’t dance, has easily replicable lyrics we could get from other Indie artists, and has a very specific demographic as her fans is someone to be considered a legend? How is this considered the standard but influential black legends’ work are downplayed and diminished? Why does it hurt swifties to see black women be given their credit? Why does Taylor have to be included in every conversation (I.e the Lizzo situation at the Grammy’s where Taylor Swift fans took Lizzo’s appreciation for Beyoncé as hatred for Taylor or Beyoncé’s success on the renaissance tour being overshadowed by the eras tour). And when called out on this, why do her stans resort back to the fake “just support all women” take?

It’s why I can’t really stand by that one post up here that states we shouldn’t debate over female artists because at the end of the day, “they’re all female artists subjected to the harsh lens of the patriarchy.” That statement ignores the intersectionality present in the topic of female artists’ treatment in the industry. It ignores how the expectations of white female artists more than often than not tend to be different for woc artists. I see the “let’s just all get along” saying as a way to deflect from the valid criticism and complaints people of color have for white artists like Taylor Swift. And considering how Taylor’s online brand is playing victim and being the poor innocent white girl whenever she is called out on something, the behavior her stans exhibit are nothing out of the ordinary.

In summary, I don’t think comparisons between female artists are needed. Especially female artists in entirely different genres of music and style. But I do know a lot white Taylor Swift fans love to play the racism card and then hide behind misogyny to cover their tracks. Once again, something Taylor herself does WELL.

[ericdeggans]

My List of the Best TV in 2023: An Abundance of Quality Even in Adversity

What’s the surest proof that there truly is too much television available these days?

The fact that, even though 2023 featured historic performers and writers strikes in Hollywood which crippled film and TV production for months, there was still enough great series and projects to fill an entire notebook page.

Way too many, in fact, for me to cover in my small part of NPR’s awesome annual listing of the best TV and film of the year, compiled among six different critics. It’s one reason the strikes went on so long in the first place – for fans of great TV, it didn’t really seem like much changed, as streaming services kept dropping cool stuff, thanks to their long production lead times.

Ironically, viewers may notice the strikes’ impact more next year – in part, because a lot of cool TV shows left us in 2023 (pour one out for Barry, The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, The Crown, Reservation Dogs, Succession, and, possibly, Ted Lasso) and also because the streamers will spend some time rebuilding lineups which got depleted.

Here, where I have a lot more room is my highly subjective and surprisingly long list of the Best TV of 2024:

TOP PICK - Succession – A show which perfectly captured how the dysfunctions of wealthy families can impact the world delivered a note-perfect finale that surprised – though I did predict Tom would win out – and yet felt completely inevitable. All while the world was second-guessing and writing their own endings. Masterful.

The Last of Us – Who knew reinventing the zombie apocalypse story was simple as coming up with a new cause – fungus, eww! – and the willingness to hand big chunks of the story over to compelling, fully drawn supporting characters. Doesn’t hurt to have ultimate zaddy Pedro Pascal and precocious acting genius Bella Ramsey on the case, either.

The Bear - Speaking of compelling supporting characters…this show’s second season sparkled by giving the other employees in Carmy’s greasy spoon-becoming-a-great-restaurant lots of narrative room. But it took flight with unexpected, brilliant cameos from Jon Bernthal, Olivia Colman, Oliver Platt, Bob Odenkirk, Sarah Paulson, and the legendary Jamie Lee Curtis.

Reservation Dogs – Proof of the amazing, authentic, original stories which come from letting indigenous people tells their own stories, smashing together a crushing realism with the sense that a jarring visit from the spirit world is always around the next corner.

Fargo – Not sure I love the ultimate message on the healing power of suburban, white, upper middle class Midwestern family life (or what happens to the one major Black character). But crackling performances from Juno Temple, Jon Hamm, Jennifer Jason leigh and Dave Foley make this year’s installment the best version in many years.

Shrinking – An emotional and truly funny comedy that reminds us how hilarious Harrison Ford and Jessica Williams can be while not making us spend too much time on Jason Segel’s angsty privileged white guy shtick.

Star Trek: Strange New Worlds – The TV series which scored the most by taking the boldest swings, leaning into Trek’s original heritage as an adventure-of-the-week which told the most ambitious stories on the small screen.

(The dancing, dubstepping, boy band-style Klingons on Strange New Worlds powered my favorite TV scene of the year.)

Star Trek: Picard – Yeah, I put TWO Trek series here, because everyone else in critic-land seems to be sleeping on the fact that they made more than one excellent season of a new Trek series filled with nods to what came before, including this show, which reunited the Next Generation cast in a storyline basically about old people saving the universe from young, clueless, mind-controlled pawns.

Barry – Wasn’t thrilled about how grim this series’ finale eventually became. But respected the fact that co-creator/star Bill Hader never shied away from the fact that the show was going to be his laboratory for all the directing and storytelling tricks he ever wanted to try, and a dark comedy about a hitman-turned-actor has to be seriously dark to mean something.

Beef – A road rage incident becomes a crackling, entertaining look at everything from Asian family culture to Elon Musk-level mogul dysfunction while also proving my girl Ali Wong can act her ass off.

Still: A Michael J. Fox Story – While other celebrities are executive producing documentaries to show how legendarily cool they are, Fox helped create an up close look at his struggle with Parkinson’s disease which show how hard it is to put on socks and take a walk on a new York street without crashing to the ground right in front of a concerned fan.

Only Murders in the Building – A comedy about over-privileged crime podcasters in an Upper West side apartment building should not stay entertaining over three seasons. But this show pulls it off, tossing in against-the-grain cameos by Paul Rudd and Meryl Streep that provide the best icing on a very fine cake.

Slow Horses – This show about a department filled with failed British intelligence agents not only subverts the spy genre, it subverts the satires which originally subverted classic spy dramas, like Get Smart. Topped by mesmerizing performances from Gary Oldman and Kristin Scott Thomas, I would have subtitled this one, Get Smarter.

Happy Valley - This series about an experienced, ball-busting divorced single mom of a police sergeant in a mid-size town in Britain notched an underappreciated series finale featuring the amazing Sarah Lancashire as Catharine Cawood, finally confronting the man she blamed for her daughter’s suicide and her grandson’s emotional turmoil.

BS High – A great documentary often tells a story which keeps going deeper and better, like a descent into a spellbinding madness. This film achieved that by giving center stage to master manipulator/football coach Roy Johnson, who got ESPN to air a game featuring his Bishop Sycamore High School team; the film contends their crushing loss eventually exposed that the school didn’t really exist.

I’m a Virgo – Creator and activist Boots Riley made an urban parable where Black excellence became superpowers and the world’s exploitive class came for a 13-foot-tall Black teen played by the always compelling Jharrel Jerome. Always inspiring to see how Boots turns mainstream media’s tropes and expectations against itself.

[specialbrewbutterbeer]

Unorthodox (Pt. 1). (Robert 'Bob' Floyd x Kazansky!Reader)(+ a bit of Ice and Mav)

Word Count: 6760

TW: Mentions of throat cancer and death (no one dies in this, it's broadly fluff), alcohol consumption, swearing, implied marriage of convenience (See AN)

AN: I know this wasn't requested- and you're all still waiting on Recall pt2 but I'm just trying to perfect that before I post it, but meanwhile have a Bob fic! There was a gap in the market for it so I went for it since I had the inspo. I also decided to lean into the IceMav stuff in the background of this fic- Implying a marriage of convenience between Ice and Sarah- though I like to think he's just bi and it's a bit more than that, a person can love two people- similarly I didn't want to get rid of Mav and Penny's relationship. It's basically up to you what you think their relationship is. I also decided to whack some music in that I totally didn't steal from the 'sky dancing 🤘' playlist on Spotify :)

Enjoy! (Requests are open, I'm slowly working through them, and feedback and replies are really needed! I wanna know what you guys think of what I write!)

REQUESTS (OPEN)

MASTERLIST

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"Hey Papa-" (Y/n) spoke with a smile on her face, dropping her handbag off of her shoulder and onto the floor in the hall. She kicked off her sandals and approached her father, who had waited and watched her come inside from the door of her study. She was always glad to see him.

"Baby girl-" He croaked and held out an arm, into the crook of which she gladly tucked herself before she wrapped her father in her own arms. She'd always been a Daddy's girl, he'd probably only ever been really mad at her once, and to be fair- she was glad he had been and she knew he'd been right about it.

She walked with him into his study, she could feel how thin he was these days, and the fact that he'd spoken any words to her was a miracle - though no matter how much it hurt, he always tried to speak to his children.

(Y/n) Kazansky was the eldest of her siblings, and was a carbon copy of her Dad - cocky and sure at times but broadly responsible, intelligent, a quick and critical thinker, good at putting up the barricades when she needed to work, pretending like she was cold- but exactly like her father, she melted into a warm, squishy and soft person the remainder of the time. Especially for family and friends.

She had gone away to college across the country when she was 18, but despite being excited about it, ended up hating everything about it. She couldn't put her finger on what it was but she just didn't enjoy a second of it, her only solace was coming home on break.

To her total surprise, her Dad had sat her down when she'd come home at the end of her first year and told her to drop out. She had been the nost scared of telling him that she was miserable at college- but he'd seen it. He knew people, his own daughter especially, well; she had been so clearly not herself and was getting nothing positive from her experience that he couldn't bare it anymore. So she did, she came home and sobbed when she walked back in the front door with all her stuff. She felt like a failure, now she was a college drop out- and again it was her Dad who fixed everything for her, told her that life wasn't worth living she didn't love what she did everyday, if her work was a burden then she'd be torturing herself, and they were privileged enough that she didn't have to do that.

So she found a job she actually enjoyed and worked hard at it, with all the same drive that had made her Dad so successful. Now she was head of her team and most importantly, happy.

She never regretted staying living at home. She was in her late twenties now, but the house was big enough that it had never felt cramped with them all staying. She especially didn't now that the famous Tom 'Iceman' Kazansky was sick. He'd been sick before, on and off. The throat cancer started as treatable, and just came back every couple years more and more aggressively.

Being at home meant spending as much time as she could making memories with her Dad, helping look after her younger siblings whilst their Mom took their Dad to hospital appointments, and making sure that her siblings would be able to remember their Dad as well and as fondly as she would. Now they knew where it was all heading.

(Y/n) sat down across from her Dad as he lowered himself into his chair and coughed.

"How you feeling Papa?" She asked, leaning her head on her hands on the desk and looking up at him adoringly like she had done since she was a kid.

He just nodded and smiled and she gave him a look of 'I know you're not telling me the truth'. He laughed, as much as he could laugh, and typed on his computer monitor.

'I'm feeling fine. Don't worry about me, Sweetheart.'

"You say that like it's easy Papa." She read and looked back to him.

'What about you?' He typed, moving swiftly off of the topic of himself because he justifiably didn't enjoy it.

"I'm alright." She smiled. Normally she'd go into plenty of detail but today she just didn't feel like it.

'and work?' He typed again.

"Work's fine. My boss is putting me up for an industry award next month." She nodded and smiled softly as he Father broke into a much bigger smile.

'I'm proud of you, Baby girl.' He once again typed out.

"I know Papa. You never let me forget it for one second." She smiled and her Dad leant forward just a little and stroked her hair softly. She'd never really be grown up in his eyes.

After a while, her Father looked at the clock.

'Your brother needs help with his homework. Can you help him out?' Ice typed out.

"Trying to get rid of me?" She laughed.

'It's work stuff' He typed and smiled. She knew him too well.

"You'll never give it a rest, will you Papa?" He shook his head. Still smiling.

'Love it nearly as much as I love you, Sweetheart.'

"No use buttering me up now, I'll still get you back for making me help with Math." She laughed and stood. She leant down and kissed her Dad's cheek before heading out to find her brother. "Love you too Papa."

After quite a long argument with her brother about algebraic equations and how he didn't wanna do them- (Y/n) decided to give up. She didn't often give up, but her brother was stubborn and would rather text his girlfriend than study. To be fair, he was usually better at studying but considering the circumstances in the family, which (y/n) knew he wasn't coping great with, she just cut him some slack.

She wandered out through the house, a little aimlessly, looking for her Mom to ask if she needed any help with cooking dinner or anything else. She heard the study door open, and peeked around the corner.

"Pete?" She asked, watching him emerge from the doorway and rushing to him.

He looked around and saw her, a smile growing on his face.

"(Y/n)" He smiled. "How are you?"

"I'm good- What about you? Papa, you never told me Uncle Pete was in town?" She spoke, looking to her Dad who was stood in the doorway. He gave a look of 'really? You're a sap'.

"Well, here I am." He smiled and held his arms open for a hug which she gladly indulged in. "I'm good kid, just came to talk to your old man."

"Oh, you're work stuff?" She put 'work stuff ' in air quotes and raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah - I'm back at Top Gun, if you can believe that." Mav spoke with a gentle smile and a sigh.

"Really?" She was slightly taken aback but Mav nodded. "Wow- I wouldn't have guessed that." She raised her eyebrows in surprise.

"It's where I'm headed now, if your Dad's done with me?" Mav grinned and looked back at Ice.

"Show him the door" Her Dad spoke croakily, in as much of a faux menacing tone as he could manage, and winked at his daughter. He still had a stupid fatherly sense of humour.

The two men hugged a lingering goodbye and Kazansky retreated, with a nonchalant wave, to his desk, watching the pair through the door with a smile. She'll be looked after even without him there. She'll always have a Dad, even if her Papa ain't there. He was glad about that.

(Y/n) hooked her arm through that of the man she had always known as family, who was her Godfather in fact, and they started toward the door. He'd always been there, at her Dad's side. He was a constant presence in the house, if not at the table for dinner and sat in her Dad's office, in the garden chasing (y/n) and her siblings with a garden hose (and her Dad) when they were little, crashing in their spare room and appearing in the morning for breakfast like the drifter he sometimes was, seeming to swap exclusively between the Bradshaw's and them, then it was hearing his voice on the phone drifting out through the house as her Dad put him on speaker and cooked for his kids or attempted to put shoes on his youngest who didn't want to cooperate (Ice would put the kid on the phone to Mav, then somehow he'd always convince them to do as their Dad asked), the pictures in scrapbooks, the pictures on the wall- their Top Gun class picture, his and her Dad's photo on the deck after their first flight together on Ice's desk next to that years Christmas picture, and ones of his kids and wife.

"How you doing? With your Dad?" Mav asked, looking down at the young woman.

"Oh- You know, looking after Mom, preparing for everything." She nodded.

"You know you can call me anytime if you need anything." He spoke sincerely.

"I know Pete." She nodded and patted his arm with a content smile. They were quiet for a moment. "You're an instructor again I guess?"

"Uh- yeah." Mav nodded.

"I'm told that went well the last time?" She teased with a laugh.

"Very." He grinned.

"You'll be sprinkling some unorthodox methods in your lesson plans, I've no doubt." (Y/n) laughed, thinking back on the stories she'd been told.

"Yeah-" Pete nodded admittantly. "You been down to the base recently?"

"Not for a while- Papa doesn't like me going there without him to chaperone; not since I took a leaf out of your books and got engaged to a pilot. Still the only time I've ever seen the guy really mad with me." She grinned. Pete just laughed.

"You demoted the guy to just an ex-fiance? That's cold (y/n)."

"Hey, we didn't even divorce! It was annulled! The guy doesn't get that privilege, Papa was right, he was an ass." She rolled her eyes as they reached the door and stood at it.

"Yeah- alright, makes sense." Pete shook his head with a smile. "Glad you and your Dad still share that high self esteem."

"I knew I was a prize to be won- You of all people know how a young pilot likes an Admiral's daughter. Shame I didn't know that my Dad was telling the truth when he gave me strict orders not to go out with pilots." She laughed and Pete could only agree. "Talking of that- You seen your Miss Benjamin again yet? She's living around here again you know."

"Well- actually, yeah." He spoke like he was still surprised about it.

"It go well?" (Y/n) grinned, immediately knowing that Pete Maverick Mitchell wasn't so stunned by any ol' lady.

"Something like that." He nodded with a slightly absent smile.

"Ooh- well, if any woman would be able to tame you, it'd be her." (Y/n) laughed as she teased the elder man.

"Yeah- Well; what about you kiddo?" He stopped and looked at her expectantly.

"What do you mean what about me?" She scoffed as if it weren't an obvious question.

"You've not got any fancy man? There's no one for me and your Dad to chase off?" Pete raised an eyebrow and gave a teasing smirk.

"No! I don't exactly get out much anymore, and even when I do I only find these dumb hotshot pilots who are younger than me and treat me like some piece of meat to ogle- not relationship material." (Y/n) spoke very matter of fact and ended with a little twitch of her nose.

"Good- that's the talk your Dad wants to hear." Pete nodded crossing his arms and leaning back on the door frame.

"I said not relationship material, not that-" Her eyes lit up and she grinned.

"Stop there! I've heard enough." Pete laughed and put a hand up. "Never should have told you what your Dad and I got up to back in the day..." (Y/n) rolled her eyes and grinned still. "Glad you're having fun, kid." Pete winked at her and gave her a playful nudge.

"Alrighty- well I guess you've gotta head off?" She sighed after a moment, sad to see him go. She got along with him very well, he held a place in her heart and he was like family to the Kazanskys.

"Yeah." He nodded with a solemn smile.

"I'll see you soon Pete. Thanks for coming." She nodded as he opened the door and turned to give her a hug.

"Anytime kid." He spoke sadly and softly, embracing her and then turning down tbe path. She stopped a few paces down and turned again- just catching her as she went to shut the front door, having watched him leave. "Hey, (Y/n)?" He called out.

"Yeah?" She looked up at him.

"If you've got time, you wouldn't want to help me out with one of my 'unorthadox methods' would you?" He asked, the idea having occured to him as he'd neared the gate.

"Uncle Pete- How could I ever say no to such a good influence as yourself?" She gave a smile and they shared a look that they'd always shared, since she was small, that meant trouble.

Less than an hour later she was sat on the edge of the decking behind the Hard Deck, looking out to the sea, whilst Penny and Maverick stood in the doorway of the bar, flirting like teenagers.

She leant back on the heels of her palms, letting the slotted wood dig in and reveled in the heat of the low sun. People normally expected her to stay home, what with how her Dad was doing- but he refused for life to anything but normal. That why he still tried to talk even though it hurt, why he still walked around even though he was nowhere near being the strong built pilot he had once been- instead he was a thin stick of a man, it was why he still worked. Normal people would have retired, travelled the world and completed some sort of bucket list, spent time with family. But he loved it too much- he wanted his family to remember him as the driven, motivated and stubborn old sap that he was- not as sick. So he insisted things just continue. This was how he wanted to enjoy what time he had; doing what he had always loved and what he always would love, with his wife and kids and friends around him.

So when (y/n) had texted her Dad to say she was going out for a bit with Uncle Pete (though she didn't dare elaborate on what they were up to) she received the thumbs up and the usual 'tell me when you're on your way home and stay safe.' text. And Pete got a 'Don't let my kid do anything you or I would do Mav'.

She heard a vehicle pull up in the lot and smiled to herself, pulling her sunglasses from her nose and eyes and perching them on her head.

After a few minutes there was another, and another and she could hear people talking, calling eachother over.

Mav glanced at her and she gave a cheeky smile. He returned one and gave a nod. She loved the stupid shit they got up to.

She stood and pulled her cropped linen shirt back over her shoulders- it was supposed to be a sun cover but she'd long since neglected to use it for that. She wore a sky blue bikini and she knew she looked damn good in it. That was half the fun of what was coming next.

First, she picked up the little portable radio that sat next to her, playing quietly bluetoothed to her phone and playing one of her playlists. She slung it over her shoulder, and then hooked a football, which had been nestled nearby in the sand, waiting for her, under her arm and waltzed on around the corner. She could just see a glimpse of the group clad in khaki uniform.

"Yeah- outside the Hard Deck, that's what he said." She heard a voice. Someone looked up, having noticed the music first, but saw her and looked away quickly- surely assuming it wasn't relevant to their mysterious instructions.

She continued closer, counting 1, 2, 3, 7- 10 and 12. That was all of em, plus Hondo- who she knew well and was keeping his mouth shut about what he knew the exercise was.

Another one glance at her, looked her up and down with a smirk but again turned away.

She looked like any other beach goer, pretty hot, a slightly darker tan on the shoulders and legs and a touch of pink on her nose- even slightly freckled.

"Hey, Boys and Girls-" She spoke, unable to get rid of the smirk on her face. Most of the group turned to her and noted her confident stance and twinkle in her eye. "Looking for Maverick?"

She spotted Bradley Bradshaw, he was tall- and she remembered him from the Top Gun 86' class reunions which she and all the families were dragged to. Plus Mav had brought him round a few times when they were kids, their Father's had been friends after all. All the pilots in that class who knew his Dad well wanted to keep an eye on him. Poor kid was always paraded around those events cos of his Dad, usually stuck to Mav or his Mom like glue. (Y/n) was usually paraded around as the eldest kid of the class first placer- and since he was rising in the ranks as she got older, as the kid of an Admiral. She never knew Bradshaw actually became a pilot- she knew he'd not got into the academy first time round, what with Mav pulling his papers, but didn't know much more. As usual her Dad kept 'work stuff' seperate from home (except Pete, of course, he was everything), so she didn't know he was around at all. She was glad for him, it never sat right that Pete had interfered, even if she could guess why it was that he did.

The one who had glanced at her, 'Hangman' she read from his uniform, went to speak with a bit of a smirk going, but it was Bradshaw ('Rooster'?) who spoke first.

"Yeah-" He looked like he recognised her for a moment, though she didn't expect him to- and he didn't seem to have enough confidence in the recognition to point it out. "You seen him?" He spoke with a hint of suspicion.

"Yep." She grinned and threw the ball toward the group of confused airmen, it was caught in the hands of a spectacled pilot. "He's put me in charge. I'm your referee." She winked and turned. She heard a hearty laugh and some chatter. Instinctively they all just followed.

Mav waved at them from the deck and threw her a whistle, which she caught as she passed by.

"Meet (Y/n). She doesn't bite-" He laughed as he looked at the pilots faces, all slightly confused but slightly amused by equal measure. "She's just got a damn good eye for detail." He grinned.

"Gotta know the rules before you bend em'" (y/n) laughed. "Now- I'm afraid I'm gonna need you guys to strip off and get sweaty- Pronto." She spoke, teasing was half the fun.

Mav watched as suddenly all of his pilots were the most cooperative they'd been the entire week and within about two minutes were split into two sides and running up and down the beach with football in hand.

He hated to admit that the little girl he'd watch grow up could be considered attractive by anyone in that way, but he knew that's how young men saw her. He hoped that it would drive them to put their all into the game- show off a bit. It had worked so far. Plus, he liked that (y/n) was getting out of the house- he'd always encourage her to do stupid shit (not dangerous stupid, but maybe a bit dumb), he had to be the fun one even if she was an adult now.

"Hey- Pete. The sides are uneven." She called up to him.

"Yeah- what about it? Realistic isn't it?" He laughed as she put her hands on her hips.

"Hangman says it's unfair and he's getting pretty moody about it." She raised an eyebrow.

"That's just cos Bagman's loosing-" Pheonix called out.

"I am not loosing! And I am not being moody!" Hangman spoke with with a lightness and laugh in his tone that was unfamiliar. He wasn't being quite so arrogant today- competitive? Yes. But he seemed to have momentarily mellowed. The activity agreed with him.

(Y/n) turned to him and raised an eyebrow, giving a look of 'what did you just say?'.

"Yes, Ma'am." He nodded when he saw it and she just laughed. She'd practiced that one on her brothers before, always commanded respect. She couldn't have been more her father's daughter.

"So, Pete-" She started before Mav put his hands up and shook his head. "You put me in charge old man! I'm telling you to come even the field, so give the lady up there something to look at and play the game!" She laughed and Mav sighed. He couldn't argue it and joined them.

As she watched the pilots play, watching for foul play, she couldn't help but think that they were all so typical of pilots. She liked em, but Hangman was clearly a peg above the rest in his own head, Bradshaw (she didn't know how used to Rooster she was when she thought of him as a sky little blonde kid in her head) seemed to take himself too seriously, they were all powerful personalities. She thought they were attractive, but broadly uninteresting. She wasn't looking for anything like that anyway.

She scanned the field of play, and awarded a point to Coyote as the game began to lapse into fun more than anything serious. It'd already been an hour or two. No one was paying attention to the time.

It didn't help that she kept getting distracted. She wasn't sure why, but her eyes kept drifting and she'd find herself watching one man in particular- for no particular reason- instead of the game.

She liked watching how he watched his colleagues - how his eyes darted about and he seemed to calculate things in an instant before a muscular arm would shoot up into the air and signal for someone to make a move. He had enough faith in his teammates that just once glance back at them was enough before he was moving onto the next step. His face would be deadly serious as he ran, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as they slipped, but break out into a grin as something went well- and fade back into a stern concentration as his mind swirled through the strategy of it all. He wasn't perfect at it; he was playing football- that wasn't was he was trained to do, and he looked delighted at himself everytime he ended up with the ball- and yet knew exactly what he wanted to do with it, where to put himself and who to pass to.

(Y/n) didn't know what about that she seemed drawn to but she kept catching herself. So much for an 'eye for detail'. She had an eye for detail alright- just the wrong damn ones tonight. She could only laugh at herself.

Mav eventually tapped out. She glanced back at him as he sat down, and noticed Simpson walking across the sand, looking as stern as usual.

She approached as he started talking to Mav, and smiled.

"Miss Kazansky-" He nodded.

"Sir." She spoke courteously but stood at an angle that meant she could glance back at the game. Simpson seemed for a moment to not know what to say to her, and he looked like he was about to ask something attempting to be sentimental about her Father. People didn't know how to talk to her these days. But equally he just seemed confused as to the necessity of her presence. "I'm referee." She nodded.

"I see." Simpson spoke slowly. "Who's winning?"

"I think they stopped keeping score a long time ago." Mav laughed, looking up at his boss.

"Yeah..." She agreed, meaning to laugh but instead sounding slightly unsure as she looked back and once again her eye was caught by a young man. That was until another dispute came about- "I still get to hand out points though." She laughed and took a springy jog toward the group.

The teams had dissolved by now, but since (y/n) was still there with a whistle and her thumbs up was needed for points (as meaningless as they were now) the group all threw their hands in the air and ushered her over.

"Hey- (y/n), you see that?" Coyote called, and it was echoed.

"He was over the line!" Pheonix argued- and pointed down at a line that they'd drawn in the sand which now barely existed.

"Now come on- (y/n)? That was clear!" Hangman laughed and looked between her and Bob, who was stood out of breath, the ball in his hands, leaning over. He pushed his glasses up and stood- saying nothing but looking at her expectantly, a smile twitching at the edge of his lips.

In truth she had no idea what was happening. She was watching him- but she was watching him, not what he was doing in terms of the game. She was deciding that she thought he was cute.

She slowed from her jog and walked over. Soon she was close enough that she was looking up at him. She used the opportunity to look him up and down, slowly. Suddenly the group fell silent. They were all hanging on this now.

He was clearly quite muscular - even if he hid that under the baggy t-shirt he wore instead of none like the other guys. His expressions were generally soft, he was pretty especially even when he was sweaty.

"No. He gets the point." She smiled and looked up at him through her eyelashes as she did. He lit up and was quickly swept up by Rooster who half tackled him whilst the entire gang cheered.

She laughed as she watched him get hoisted onto Rooster's shoulders and his colleagues start chanting his name. She walked behind, shaking her head as she thought about how teenage she was being- letting a guy win just cos she thought he was cute.

She looked up at Pete, who was still sat in his fold up chair, the radio playing next to him. He had a twinkle in his eye. Today was his idea of fun. If only he'd had the chance to do something dangerous in a jet she was sure he would have considered it perfect.

She looked past him, to see Penny ushering the group inside- the bar wasn't usually open today, but she would allow the group a couple rounds.

She walked along, slowly, just sorta watching everything as she headed for the bar. Pete stood as the group reached him long before she did. He had that stupid familiar grin on his face.

Rooster put Bob down and the guy was surrounded by his peers quickly, all thumping him heartily on the back and still cheering.

Someone turned and called (y/n) to hurry up, she shook her head with a laugh- which only encouraged the rest of them to call out to her. She just laughed, she didn't want to run, but she was surely on her way.

Pete took up a jog toward her, his own laugh on his lips.

"Pete! Don't you dare!" She realised what he was up to when he was just a few yards away- as the pilots cheered and her eyes widened.

"Maverick!" She yelped.

He knew he was in trouble then. Sarah had banned callsigns in the house- 'Someones Mama worked hard on that name you know- and if you hadn't noticed, we're not in fighter jets. The Navy would never have such nice carpets.'

Before she could stop him, he'd lifted her on his shoulders in a fireman's carry- which prompted more cheers from the pilots as she and Mav just laughed, her sunglasses slipping from her face and onto the sand.

"Just like when you were a little kid." Mav grinned and spoke as he carried her toward the bar, collecting the group as he went.

He finally put her down inside, as the rest headed for the bar. She gave him a playful punch in the arm- to which he just laughed and headed behind the bar to help Penny.

She shook her head and laughed.

"Hey-" She heard from behind her. She turned, but didn't need to, the man the voice belonged go had circled to face her. She didn't even have time to say anything before he seemed very close to her and she realised who it was.

"You dropped these?" He spoke, holding out her sunglasses to her with a little, calm smile.

"Oh-" She felt her cheeks heat up and preyed they weren't flushing pink. "Thanks." She smiled and softly took the glasses from his outstretched hand. She never got flustered, but my my did she feel like a teenager.

"Anytime." Bob nodded and didn't move for a moment, wether or not he knew he was holding the tension, keeping her stunned and not breaking eye contact, was an interesting question. Either way he was doing just that.

Before he could, (y/n) decided to throw caution to the wind. She hadn't felt like this in a long time.

"Can I get you a drink?" She asked quickly and looked to the bar- before she totally melted in front of him.

"Uh- yeah, please." He nodded.

(Y/n) had to move away from him before she froze up, so she moved toward the bar- glancing back to see him follow.

"What can I get ya?" She asked, feeling a little more her smooth and confident self. This was not usually a difficult task.

"Just a coke, thanks." He smiled and nodded as (y/n) leant on the bar.

"You don't drink?" She looked up at him. He shook his head.

"No- never been my thing." He smiled, content and cool in that answer. Clearly pretty secure in himself, not one to be pressured into anything. She liked that. It was kinda hot.

"I like it." She smiled and waited a beat as he met her gaze for a moment. "Cheap date." She spoke that bit unknowingly quietly- still slightly dazed.

She chatted to him for a while, and they joined the others playing pool at one point. God- she really did like him. He was a little quiet, but not exactly shy. He was intelligent and interesting. He was pretty funny too- at least she thought so.

It was a pretty chilled out evening- as Mav and Penny looked on from the bar, sat with their own drinks.

Eventually (y/n) looked up at the clock.

"Wow- how did it get to be that late?" She spoke to herself.

"Time flies when you're having fun, (y/n)." Hangman spoke leaning on his pool cue and winked at her.

She rolled her eyes playfully. She now knew he was just sorta like that- he was definitely flirting but he seemed to flirt with anything with a pulse so she didn't exactly take it personally.

"Well, I still gotta get home-" She spoke, trying to think of how to get there. She'd got here with Mav, he probably he expected he was gonna drop her home too.

"I can give you a ride." Bob spoke, more confidently and keenly than even he had expected to sound. She turned and looked at him. She didn't hesitate to answer- but Bob still followed it up with "If you- want?" He suddenly seemed back to his mildly awkward self. "I haven't been drinking so-"

"Thanks- I'd like that." She cut him off and smiled, finally sensing her confidence coming into it's own like she was used to.

He nodded and smiled, tipping the last of his drink past his lips before standing.

He put his hand out to her as he stood in front of her and she gathered her things, her purse and phone, then the jeans and t-shirt she'd been wearing earlier in the day before she'd changed into the bikini she was wearing.

She looked up and instinctively took it as she stood.

"Thanks." She mumbled, with a twitchy, shy smile.

Bob just gave a soft, warm smile, and again she just couldn't look or she knew she'd never move again. She slid her hand from his and headed to Maverick. Bob stayed still, watching her- and not even processing that the entire rest of his colleagues were watching the entire exchange, totally fascinated.

"Pete-" (y/n) smiled.

"Kid." He nodded.

"Thanks for today." She smiled and gave him a tight hug.

"You're welcome." He smiled as he squeezed her tight. "Give my love to your Mom and Dad- alright?" He asked, and she nodded.

"I'll see you soon, Pete." She spoke. "And you too Penny." She smiled and gave another hug to the woman.

"It was lovely seeing you again darling." She nodded.

"Not too soon, (y/n)." Pete spoke slowly, as yhey shared a knowing look. They knew what next time would be.

She nodded and gave an almost bittersweet smile.

Then she turned back to the group- swapping it for a grin as she saw Bob walking toward her.

"It was great meeting you guys! I hope this mission of yours goes well- fly safe and come home!" She waved as Bob stood by her.

A chorus of goodbyes and mirrored sentiments came up.

Soon they were out the door and heading toward Bob's old beat up pick-up.

"You know who that was don't you?" Hondo spoke as soon as they were definitely out of earshot.

This gained him some confused looks from the pilots.

"(Y/n) Kazansky. Admiral's daughter." He grinned as he spoke smoothly and drank. Knowing he'd unleashed some good information.

"Oh shit-" Rooster spoke, half laughing, half realising he was right when he'd first thought of it and assumed he was wrong.

"And my Goddaughter." Mav called across to add to the conversation.

"My god- Bob doesn't know what he's in for." Hangman laughed.

"If you think I would have let any of the rest of you take her home- You're idiots." Mav laughed.

It was a pretty normal journey, the pair chatted- then a lull came in the conversation. She watched the streets go by through the window and listened to the radio.

"Oh, Bobby-" She smirked and Bob's ears perked up and he immediately felt heat in his cheeks at the nickname. She sighed as she spoke it. "My Daddy always told me to say away from pilots... Such a cruel thing- when you're sat so close to me." She smiled and shook her head before glancing at him. Her eyes drifted from watching his scan the road, to his jaw and lips and neck, to his hands as they turned the wheel.

After a few moments he took his eyes from the road on a quiet street, and glanced right back at her. As her eyes made their way back to his face, she was almost stunned to find his to meet.

Once they did, a smile crept onto his face- one that let on something.

He turned back to the road.

"I don't fly the plane. I'm a WSO, not a pilot." He spoke, his smile remaining.

"I know." She breathed.

Again, there was quiet.

Soon they pulled up outside the addresses she'd given.

He switched off the ignition and looked over at her. He gave a soft smile. She gave a little smirk.

"Get out." She spoke. He looked at her for a half a second then did as told.

He stood beside the truck, holding the door open and looking in. "Now close the door and turn around. I'm gonna get changed." She nodded.

"Yes Ma'am." He spoke under his breath, taking one last very quick look at her in her bikini before once again taking the instruction.

"What a gentleman." He heard her tease, the smile on her lips almost audible.

He chuckled to himself and looked down at his shoes as he waited, his hands clasped behind his back.

Soon he heard the door of his truck open and close again.

"You can look." She spoke as she rounded the front of the truck.

He looked round at her. There she was, blue jeans and white t-shirt. Classic.

He smiled once again. He didn't think he could stop, she was too pretty.

"Thanks for the ride, Bobby." She used the nickname again and stood close.

"Anytime." He spoke breathily, slowly- with a small nod as he leant back on his truck.

She moved her hand up and tucked a small rolled up piece of paper behind his ear.

She smiled and couldn't break the eye contact. He didn't move a muscle.

He looked so pretty in the dusk light. The damp strands of hair that fell across his forehead, how the oversized loose shirt sat over his shoulders, the shine in his eyes and his overall aura of calm. It was magnetic to her.

She finally moved to turn away, and as she faced away from him, he acted on impulse- putting his hand in the back pocket of her jeans and spinning her back around, plunging into a deep and very tender kiss.

She melted into it- though she didn't expect it from him.

His hand stayed in her back pocket, his other rested on her hip, ring finger through her belt loop. She wasn't going anywhere though.

Hers rested on his chest.

Eventually they pulled away. She was flushed pink, he was strangely calm.

He looked at her, and looked up behind her- noticing the Admiral stood at his front door watching with a stern look on his face. Bob gave a sheepish smile.

(Y/n) glanced over her shoulder, and gave a breathy laugh before looking back. Bob looked back to her.

Slowly he let go of her, and she let her fingertips trail on him.

"Call me, Bobby." She smiled as she turned away again and headed for her door.

He nodded and breathed out as he watched her go.

"I surely will..." He spoke to himself.

"He's not a pilot, Papa." She smiled as she walked in the door. "He's real sweet."

Ice closed the door.

"I saw." He spoke slowly, looking unimpressed. "I know my aviators." He told her. He handpicked these guys, he could recite their records like the alphabet by now. He handpicked them to fly missions, not to audition them for son-in-law. Even so- he had to admit, Floyd's record was clean as a whistle. He had commendations and good reviews across the board.

"Bob!" Fanboy spoke as he walked back into the bar. Suddenly he was swamped and surrounded by his peers who were patting him on the back and chattering.

He smiled sorta shyly as they did.

"What'd you do?" Pheonix teased, not expecting anything.

"Kissed her at the door-" He answered- leading to another cheer.

"Man- you know she's Admiral Kazansky's daughter? Right?" Coyote spoke, amazed and with a laugh.

"You didn't?" Bob returned with a little smirk at the corner of his mouth as he looked around.

If they hadn't lost their shit before then- they did as he said that.

"Dude- you've got some balls." Hangman slapped him on the back and laughed. "I mean- that's real crazy stuff."

Mav shook his head at the whole lot of them, taking a drink and smiling. As he did, he saw his phone light up in his jacket pocket, hung on a chair.

I'm assuming you're responsible for what I just saw?

Depends

Floyd.

I wouldn't let our baby girl go home with any old pilot

He's not a pilot

Exactly

You're dangerous

I am

Love you too Ice

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

PART 2 HERE

TAGLIST:

@thespeeder @fangirlinc @inglourious-imagines @gh0strr @idfkwhyimhere4357 @dempy

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 4/2/2024

in which i try to clean two different boxes with varying success

new people: hello! the tuesdaypost is a weekly roundup of stuff i've been listening, reading, watching, playing, and making. it is NOT a recommendation series, although i sometimes dabble in critique. when im firing on all cylinders i ask "what is the core concept of this? does it succeed in what i think it's trying to do and what it says it's doing?is it well-made but i dislike it/beautiful but not for me? why? what parts Really Work?"

if you are into purity culture, yelling at other people about the problematic media they consume, or are under 18 i am going to have very little patience for you.

listening

now that i live in houston i am legally obliged to loop the new beyonce album 24/7. there is absolutely truly nobody fucking doing it like her. every song is a multimedia art piece. goddamn do i miss the album as a tool to convey a specific concept/listening order/flow. sometimes (chappell roan most recently comes to mind, although it does feel unfair to compare anyone to beyonce) every individual song is pretty good but the listening experience if you sit down and listen all the way through the album is unpleasant and choppy. not so here. NEVER here.

my favorite like Dance Number is YA YA (it samples nancy sinatra's boots! and the beach boys' good vibrations! wildly different tones despite coming out a year apart!)

the one that goes on four different character/tone playlists is BODYGUARD.

great early roundup of influences, samples, and collaborators. delighted to see five fingers for marseilles listed, a rocky but underrated south african neo-western free on tubi rn for americans

-

reading

also very texas-relevant with the recent pornhub lawsuits! pornhub and sex tech (among other things) have been samantha cole's beat for almost ten years. i trust her to report sensitively and not for like. shock clicks

this site has a free paywall (sign up with your email for a link to the full article) so bots have a harder time scraping articles: this is a journalist-founded site with only the four founders running it and writing articles. while annoying i do think this is a reasonable measure

The platform still has problems, but after years of critical reporting and a litany of legal and reputational consequences, Pornhub is now more heavily moderated than any other porn platform, and most major social media platforms, for that matter. A growing list of age verification laws has put Pornhub in a position where it is compelled to block access to its site in seven states and counting. In theory, these laws are designed to prevent children from being able to access pornography online. In reality, what is going to happen is that children are going to end up on pornographic sites that don’t care what the law says, and where some of the most harmful content that exists online is actively promoted to them.

she's also got a new limited series podcast with CBC about the rise and fall of pornhub, which was fascinating and kept me company during an extremely early morning drive

-

watching

i'm lukewarm about this one but i spend a lot of time getting there, much like this movie

ive been watching a lot of frankly dogshit thrillers, which has made me wonder: what's the deal with supervillans? where did they come from? and thence arrived at the prototypical film Dr Mabuse the Gambler (1922, dir. Lang). the four and a half hour cut on Kanopy is two normal-length movies superglued together, which makes sense as a streaming product but it is sort of a terrifying runtime and took me three days to get through.

sometimes, as we know, i get a real bee in my bonnet about visiting the early versions of things. dr mabuse is the blueprint for every james bond and mission impossible villain, or really any shadowy supervillain with power over [INDUSTRY] or [THE MARKET]. it is a four and a half hour long cat and mouse game through lavish, eccentric sets between mabuse and prosecutor wenk. it has some trouble sustaining itself bc it is four and a half hours long but does deliver on the cat and mouse aspects. this letterboxed review has interesting things to say about the political climate of 1922 germany and how lang subverts the formula of the pulp serial.

really the film opens with mabuse yelling at his cocaine-addicted assistant, but the film properly gets going with mabuse's henchmen stealing a trade agreement (nothing really carbon dates a movie more than a missing trade agreement. vanishingly few post-early-30s movies have missing trade agreements as plot points) and then he crashes the stock market. for fun and profit.

however. i think every time you see an evil man who is a banker or stockbroker or generally uses money as power you have to interrogate whether it's antisemitic. the answer here is "maybe" but i'm not sure if intent matters when contemporary nazi critics were eager to hold mabuse up as "this is the typical jewish criminal". (sorry about the link directly to wikipedia, it's been touch finding online sources for this section). mabuse is not specifically jewish, but there are certainly elements of stereotype. i am still not good at being presented with "this movie has a shadowy behind the scenes figure manipulating the government and all the money ever" and going "hey wait a minute".

after that tremendous glaring caveat, for which i read more contemporary reviews and reviews in general than i ever read for movies in these posts, is it good? eh. a contemporary VARIETY review remarked (and i largely agree)

The direction of Fritz Lang has moments – but Lang somewhat negates his good technical effects by twenty forty-word captions of a ludicrous unconciseness.

the night scenes are particularly well done, and imo are better than many modern night scenes--other contemporary reviews remarked

In this film the techniques of the film camera (Carl Hoffmann’s brilliant photography) are brought to perfection. The problem of how to film lit-up streets at night has been solved for the first time. It is unbelievably impressive to see the glaring lights of speeding cars flash through the night or the rapid passing of an elevated train of the initially blurred, then gradually focussed glimpse through a pair of opera glasses on to the variety stage, the nuances of light and shade—these things alone prove the value of film documentary.

look at this shit! filmed from within the cars! in 1922!!!

this film asks you to believe hypnotism is real and really effective, so i don't think it's that big of a leap when it asks you to believe in ghosts. i don't understand that quibble from contemporary viewers. there are several on screen suicides with like. specific methods. which is not currently regarded as good filmmaking practice. im curious to know what contemporary audiences thought but couldn't immediately turn anything up, and wading through masters’ theses on cinematic suicide is a little beyond my current mental health.

if i were a more content-minded woman this would turn into a clickbait video essay about the antisemitic origins of every supervillan. however i am unqualified and untalented at video editing and i'm sure there are forty theses on this already. this movie is a hard sell to anyone jewish or employed. it is also a stunning example of cutting-edge film technology and part of the genesis of the modern supervillan. Fritz Lang films tend to fall in the category of “movies i am happy to see once and feel no need to revisit”.

-

playing

playing what is effectively the same game three times back to back (breath of the wild, tears of the kingdom, genshin impact) has sort of burned me out on open world games with a focus on battle skill progression and stumbling across little puzzles in the overworld. i have to get itch.io up and running on this pc and find the most linear jankiest possible one-sitting indie thing. or several of them. i might try the solo ttrpg Gentleman Bandit i seem to have acquired in one of the giant charity bundles

brief breath of the wild update bc i don't want to pull screenshots off my switch: i have gotten to the boss fight for the gerudo and goron regions, have not completed them bc my focus in this game is NOT hearts, and am in the middle of the zora temple. despite the quality of life improvements and new regions in totk i think i prefer botw: progression is a bit easier, there are fewer mmo-style hub quests and repeatable quests. things like the stable photos are cute but very repetitive, so are the sign bracing puzzles, and the sky crystal quests for sky shrines feel VERY samey. also dislike how the CLEAR OUT: [REGION] quests with the monster suppression squads reset at the blood moon.

anyway! to genshin! there was an exceptionally fun little event with a surprisingly involved management sim tacked onto the game??? you make and sell potions fulfilling different requirements, and can eventually stock travelling merchants all over the continent. the actual act of making the potions was this block-filling 1010! style thing (screenshot from polygon)

the new region, a port town and tea-growing area called Chenyu Vale, is maybe the prettiest one in the game so far? it's the one that feels the most picturesque and Designed, like this is one huge mansion garden studded with follies. they also added background chatter and noise in the cities and towns, which really startled me and makes them feels much more lived in! this is a fun trick to avoid putting in a thousand NPCs and making everyone's framerate crash. the less stuff in your game, the less shit can go wrong.

also pulled for and got chiyori, a geo-aligned seamstress (and sometime spy???) swordswoman who has what i can only call domme voice

-

making

ok now we'll talk about boxes. i was rearranging my kitchen, as unemployed women are known to do, and noticed this recipe box i picked up back in mass was disgusting. the finish is starting to fail but it was genuinely grody and last summer i packed my kitchen in a blind panic inside an hour and did not have time to address it. i have never seen a recipe box at an estate sale before or since and it made me desperately sad.

it was full of a lot of stuff.

i went at it with a somewhat inadvisable combination of things: wood soap didn't budge it, so i dampened a paper towel in vinegar and wiped it down in the vain hope it would do something. the thing that worked, and would be inadvisable for anything veneered or less densely textured, was baking soda paste and the scrubby side of a sponge. it still smells Very musty even after 48h of loose baking soda inside with several changes, but that might be partly the recipe cards' fault. i would like to refinish this at some point but i don't have polyurethane on hand and the fun little project budget is empty until further notice/i get a job.

the hinge did rust a bit despite my best efforts but that has since been lightly steel wooled and oiled. a well loved object! it's possible the lady who died just fucking sucked and that's why literally her entire estate including many other things families usually keep was on sale, but i would like to think perhaps she simply had no other family? a well loved/used object even if all the recipes are for semi-horrifying fifties new england recipes.

the other box, pre-acids but post-washing: this topp trading card box with seven episode one packets of cards was intact with the original seal. i have verified it was not worth much more than the $5 i paid for it with the trading card obsessed man in my best friend's husband's friendgroup. i bought this three months ago but the man was unavailable to open it until uhhh last week. some sort of liquid got inside it at some point and it was super corroded. i was going to store embroidery floss in here but even with all my powers (barkeepers friend. brasso.) i cannot completely remove the corrosion. it's not corroded Through but it looks bad and feels rough. so it goes. it'll probably hold the tiedown straps in my car bc that plastic bucket is rapidly failing

[addict-rat]

Your Eyes Betray You

Summary: You have a rivalry with Zemo and his team, but you also have mixed feelings with him, in one mission you both finally end up saying what you feel and more.

Words count: 2880

Paring: Helmut Zemo x F!Reader

Warnings: +18 Explict, swering, very poorly written smut, wall sex, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, fingering, p in v. 

Author’s note: Buenas, I just want to say a few things, frist this is my frist smut written in english, that leads to the second thing english not my first language I know a bit of the language but still learning so I used a translator from time to time if you see a mistake in the grammar or in general please let me know, I accept criticism but I don’t tolerate hate comments or similar. I probably gonna write more fanficons so I accept request in the future and I in the process of writing a Namor fanfic x!Reader. Gracias enjoy the fic :D

My masterlist.  

Your career as a government agent was going pretty well. Not long ago you had been promoted to a position now you have your own team of agents to lead although you still had to follow orders from your superior, Secretary Ross. you could say that you had done everything to be where you were now, and you knew that one day you would be in a higher position than the one you were currently in, you worked hard to have a record of success in most of your missions, that was one of the reasons why you were given this position, however everything changed when you met your now "enemies" the Thunderbolts.

Thunderbolts was a team similar to yours except they had two supersoldiers, Ava Starr better known as Phantom, Justin Hammer and criminal mastermind who more than once could take you down. While your team was not bad, the problem was that it turns out you were not the best person to lead, since most of your life you had and preferred to work on your own.

Valentina and Ross were on the same path, therefore Thunderbolts and your team ended up on the same mission so you saw them very often, they were a headache for you because you knew you had a half chance of succeeding in the mission and a half chance of losing because of them.

Everyone already knew each other, it was like seeing co-workers who had been together for many years, but as team leader you knew all the opposing team better, especially their leader.

Helmut Zemo.

Being both team leaders you had faced him before, at first you could say you had no opinion of him, after meeting him on a mission where you lost, you began to hate him especially when you realized how much you found yourself thinking about him, you were not going to admit the obvious you had to stay focused on what mattered.

                                                             You weren't a fan of missions that involved having to infiltrate parties and looking like you were enjoying being there, usually these types of missions you would send someone from your team, but this time you had to go, so there you were finishing your fifth drink. You were waiting for the host of the party to come out of his office so you could go and get some files that could put a big f behind bars, you heard in one of your headphones that he had already left his office and that you could move on, so you preferred to go and finish the mission instead of having your sixth drink, you walked straight to where there was a crowd of people dancing.

"I thought you didn't like these kinds of events" you pulled away a little when you saw how close you were to him "I don't I'm here beacuse of work, look like you a really having fun" you said in a mocking tone "I'm here beacuse of work too and your distracting me, can you even fight in that? "You tried to ignore the previous comment even though you still felt that feeling that had become recurrent in your stomach and you knew that he was the reason for your behavior. Your thoughts left you when you heard one of your colleagues telling you to hurry before he went back to his office "I don't have time for this and yes I can fight in this" you said walking to where you should have been a few minutes ago.

You felt someone pulling you by your arm so hard that you ended up glued to the body of the man who had pulled you, obviously it had to be the last person you wanted to see here and who in fact you were expecting to see.

The mansion you were in was so ridiculously big that it took you a little longer to get there, in some corridors there were people around so you had to find another way or wait for them to leave. You were a little more relieved that you were so close, you just had to look for the files and leave being as cautious as possible. Already in front of the door you looked to the sides before placing your hand on the door handle but before you could open the door, you were a little scared since no one had warned you that someone was already inside but your concern was gone when you saw Zemo in the door frame, the two looked at each other for a few minutes, you still did not understand how he had arrived so fast.

"If you are looking for the same as me, good luck, I doubt you will find a copy" whenever he was in advantage or beat you he always put that mocking smile, you saw him walking away while you doubted if you were really looking for the same or were different motives of the mission, but still you went after him, you approached him and he stopped walking when you reached him "Do you really want took me into a fight in that dress?" he asked this time looking at you again from head to toe "Do you want to try me? Baron" he approached you, cornering you in the wall "Do you know I love when you use my title?" you were going to answer him but you both became alert when you heard footsteps and you heard your team warning you that someone was coming in the corridor, obviously it was going to be suspicious to see you two standing near the office and there was no time to go anywhere else.

You grabbed Zemo by his coat and pulled him closer to you, you whispered an almost inaudible "sorry" before you started kissing him, obviously nobody was going to suspect two lovers looking for a place to be alone, at first Zemo was a little astonished he didn't expect you to do that, but he understood that it was to cover the two of you and not to raise suspicions, so he didn't let go of you, his leg got between yours applying some pressure, which made you moan in the kiss, he took the opportunity to dominate more the kiss and taste inside you, you didn't want to admit it but it was the first time you had been kissed so well.

You remembered that this was your chance to look for the files in his coat, your hands traveled through Zemo's coat, trying to find the files but he noticed what you were doing, he took your hands and slammed them against the wall, pulling something out of you between a sigh and a moan, something you were going to regret later "You like that don't you? You like it when someone else takes control" He said close to your lips, you started to move your hips a little on the leg he had between yours, you did it by mere instinct you hadn't even noticed, " Egear are we? " He murmured as he left a path of kisses from your jaw to your neck, you let out a gasp as you felt his wet kisses, your weak legs brought you back to reality and you saw that there was no one but the two of you in the hallway "T- they're already gone" Zemo let go of your wrists "Yes, I know they left like two minutes ago" he left a kiss on your cheek "Looking for this, Draga? "He took out a small usb from his coat and put it back almost immediately, while you were still stunned and bewildered by what had just happened a few seconds ago.

You followed him down another corridor when you had already put your feet on the ground again, when you got to the corner where he had crossed he was not there, you looked around, but it was useless, there was no one there, you walked back from where you came but you saw from afar that a group of people were coming and you saw that from the other side of the corridor as well. For a moment you were paralyzed, but they dragged you to another small room, that looked like a cellar or something similar, the room was only illuminated by the small lines of the shutter that almost completely covered the window of the door.

"What..."

You couldn't finish.

"Shhh."

"Don't shhh to me"

He put his hand on your mouth "Shhhh" you heard murmurs that were going to close where you were, you did not pay attention to what they were talking, you were more focused on watching him even with the little light that came from the hallway, his dark eyes staring at the door where he had you nailed, you saw how he frowned to concentrate on what the other people were talking, his dark hair well combed and how soft it seemed to be, you wanted to pass your hand touching him.

"Enjoying the view?" He ask with that cooky smirt and removed his hand from your mouth "I do, although I preferred the way you looked in the hallway" he tilt his head, his hands went to your hips "You didn't look at me like you hated me... but you don't, do you? Well you did at first, but then you pretended to" Your eyes widened in amazement, after all this time you were still impressed by how capable he was of reading you despite how good you were at pretending.

"Your eyes, your eyes betrayed you" he replied as if he knew what you were going to ask, it was no secret that he no longer saw you as if his gaze could kill you, at first he detested you especially you being the one who had beaten him a few times, but that had been a long time ago.

Your lips approached his, when it finally looked like your lips were about to touch his, he moved a few inches away from you "Tell me what do you want, darling?" You bite your lip, his hand slowly went down to the hem of your dress, caressing your thighs under your dress "Please, please Helmut... Touch me, make me yours please fuck me please" you begged pathetically for the other man to touch you, you never thought you would beg like that for anyone ever in your life, but for him, you didn't mind doing it.

This time it was his lips that found you and he drank you in almost the same way he had done in the past kiss, his kisses went down to your neck and his hands this time went up your dress to your waist and into your panties playing with the now wet fabric, you were about to beg for more, when you heard the rustle of the fabric tearing, You gave a gasp of astonishment that quickly turned into a more erotic one as you felt his fingers in your wet folds "You won't need these" he said finishing removing your panties "You already so wet for me" one of his hands took your leg to lift it a little, your fingernails dug into his shoulders to steady you.

"Don't stop Zemo ples...Ah" Two of his long and thick fingers penetrated into your wet cunt, his fingers curled in that place that made you forget where you were. "Ah" you moaned loudly feeling how his fingers stretched you and at the same time his thumb started massaging circles in your clit. You began to feel that sensation in your belly that indicated your orgasm was beginning to form, your nails dug deeper into his shoulders. His lips so close to yours that you could feel his breaths heaving and he could feel your gasps and moans.

"Zemo... I..." His lips caught your lips in a kiss before you could raise your voice any more, you heard footsteps and murmurs outside, across the hall but they gradually receded. "You have to be a little more quite, my love... As much I would love to hear you, we can't let anyone hear us, do you understand?" Zemo asked you shortly after you came down from your state of pleasure. "Yes, Baron" you said he kissed you again, this time a little shorter "Good girl" you were surprised when he turned and your face pressed into the door, you heard the sound of his belt unbuckling as well as the zipper of his pants, one of his hands was on your hip gripping you tightly then you were to find the bruise in the shape of his hand on your hip, with his other hand he said the tip of his cock was moving in your wet folds "Stop teasing me, baron please" a choked moan came from your lips as you felt him slowly penetrate you, it was much bigger than you had thought, your count trembling with the strecht as inch after inch.

You both let out a sigh when he fully stettled, both of his hands on your hips "Fuck, you're so thigt" He whisper in your ear leaving a path of kisses and hickeys in your neck, you moved your head to the side leaving him more space, you let out a loud moan when you felt his teeth penetrating the skin between your neck and shoulder "Oh! Don't mark me you possesive... Oh fuck" you whimper when you felt how he came out completely and penetrated you again in a single movement, his nails dug into your hips while he came out and entered you in a constant pace, Zemo grabbed you by the neck turning your head so he could kiss you, his kisses were hungry, a little violent, you tried to follow the same rhythm as him returning him with kisses full of lust and needy, you didn't separate until you were both out of breath, a loud moan came from your lips when he hit that place that left you wanting more, your back arched and he noticed it by the way your legs weakened and by the way your walls squeezed his cock, his pace this time faster hitting that sweet place. Even though you wanted to be quiet because you were not exactly alone, anyone could pass through the hallway and hear you, but Zemo made it difficult for you to be quiet, his arm grabbed your hips while the other one massaged your clitoris, a gasp escaped your lips from the pleasure he was giving you, it wasn't a few minutes later when you felt your second orgasm come again.

"I'm so close... I'm gonna come" you let out a loud moan "Come for my draga" he grabbed your neck bringing your head to his shoulder, he applied a little pressure to your neck, which brought you to your second orgasm with a sigh and a gasping moan, Zemo waited until your breathing was no longer so agitated and came back with the same pace he had before. You felt his seed fill you deep inside your walls, you heard profanities between Sokovian and Ingles in between cut off by his agitated breathing.

After a few minutes you both had come down from your euphoria, you felt Zemo's lips on your bare shoulder, his short but affectionate kisses were going up to your cheek, his hand grabbed your jaw returning it to his face leaving a soft and affectionate kiss on your lips, you kissed him back, you let out a whimper in the middle of the kiss when he came out of you, you felt his semen going down your thighs "We could have had fun a long time ago... you know it was much better than I had fantasized..." you weren't going to admit that you had also dated him in this way, but that wasn't something you would say out loud at least not today. you know it was much better than I had fantasized" you weren't going to admit that you had also fooled around with him in this way, but that wasn't something you would say out loud to him at least not today. You both began to arrange yourselves to hide any kind of evidence. You looked for your panties on the floor, when you found them they were torn "Great, now I have to go back without underwear thanks Zemo" you said showing him your ruined panties, Zemo took them out of your hands and put them in his coat "I will buy you new ones, and next time I won't tear them" you both left the room and walked down the hall "So now we will do this on every mission we see each other" You smirk devilish "I can't promise you that I won't, but I'd prefer it to be somewhere more private" they both laughed a little "What a strange way to propose a date but ok I'll take it" they both headed for the exit and went their separate ways to where each team was waiting for them, and there Zemo noticed that you had removed the usb.

[missmeinyourbones]

IF YOU SQUINT, THE LINING IS SILVER 

a/n: wc 2.5k, based on a prompt from a list i can’t find but if i do i will link it! something along the lines of “fighting a stranger for the last bottle of wine at the grocery store” LOL

Sometimes, a bottle of wine is all it takes to solve your problems–or at least dull them enough to make them tolerable.

The past few days have been horrendous, a true burden to the roulette that is the game of life. Your washing machine breaking, a so-called friend gossiping about your love life (or lack thereof), a parking ticket charged to your vehicle demanding a ridiculous amount of money to the town, all leading up to the real kicker of the week–getting laid off from your lousy (but decently-paying) office job at the end of your Friday workday. 

After the longest week of your life, followed by the worst shift in all of recorded history, all you want to do is drown your sorrows in a bottle of red. 

Or white, or pink. Truthfully, you’re in no position to be picky. After all, beggars can’t be choosers.

That’s how you ended up here, sluggishly ghosting between the aisles of your local grocery market like a zombie with one thing on the brain.

The store is tiny, cozy. A simple family owned mom-and-pop with little selection, but often supplies noble finds at reasonable prices. Their alcohol selection is normally on the sparser side, but after what appears to be a rather successful week in liquor sales, it borders on barren as your heart sinks with disappointment. 

Suddenly, you see it. A glimmer of hope while approaching the seemingly empty shelves. 

A lone glass bottle twinkles in the reflection of the fluorescent lights from above, tucked away in the corner of the wooden ledge as if waiting for you to pluck it from where it sits and give it a new home in the warmth of your gut. 

It plays out like a movie’s climax; you can see the bottle, feel the glass smooth in your palm, practically taste the sweet syrup as you inch closer and closer and closer and–

“Woah–!”

A large hand collides with yours, clumsy and clanky as you both simultaneously reach for the lonely bottle on the shelf. Your fingers brush for mere seconds before you instinctually flinch away from the foreign intrusion of touch.

A stranger stands to the right of you, seemingly sharing your brilliant idea of snagging the market’s last bottle of sparking white wine.  

“Oh! I’m so sorry,” you begin to apologize, turning to the culprit who stands in the way of you and potentially the only positive thing to come you’re way this week.

The man’s tone is light and airy as he grabs the bottle, reading it’s label with a laugh, “Don’t be. Great minds must think alike, huh?”

You lift your chin to get a good look at him, and he’s surely a sight to see. He’s tall, almost alarmingly so as he towers over where you crawl between the stacked bags of chips and cookies lining the walls. A pair of dark sunglasses sits perched on the bridge of his nose, and you ignore the criticizing voice in the back of your mind that labels it a douchey move to be wearing them inside. 

Give him the benefit of doubt, you try to remind yourself. You don’t know this man.

Your slight optimism goes right out the window when he continues to hold the bottle as if he’s already purchased the item as his own, swaying it with his arm from side to side like the half-gallon jug weighs nothing in his hold. 

The awkward silence festers between the two of you as if you're blushing students waiting for the other's first move, dancing around one another’s footsteps in a crowded school hallway. 

You’re the first to clear the air, awkwardly gesturing to the light Moscato he clutches, “Are—are you—?” 

You don’t have to finish your question for him to read between the lines.

Still, he has the audacity to look surprised when you point to where he holds he bottle. He raises his eyebrows, almost as if silently challenging you to clarify your intent. 

“Am I what?” he lightly encourages. 

“I mean…” your patience wears thin as your attention returns to the wine with a humorless laugh, “we both grabbed it at the same time.” 

The store is practically empty, other than a handful of employees and your silent showdown happening towards the building’s back corner. From your peripheral, you see a woman in uniform mopping tiles along the floor. Her presence reminds you that it is almost 8 PM, she’s probably preparing for closing any minute now.  

The (handsome) stranger before you continues to stand his ground. “Yeah,” he agrees with ease before stating the obvious, “but you let go first.”

You click your tongue in disbelief at his gall. Whoever this man is, he’s picked the wrong person to argue with, right now. 

No longer anxious and now decently irritated, your tone comes out harsh and sarcastic. It hits him, cold. 

“That tends to be the gut reaction when you accidentally brush hands with a stranger.”

The store echoes with a silence that should be lethal, the only noises being the dull humming of the freezers from the backroom and the squeaking of a dry mop against the floor. 

“Really?” the man faux wonders with mockery. “Weird, my reaction is to grab on even tighter.” 

As if rubbing salt in the wound, he shakes the bottle around as evidence and you visibly cringe at the roughness of the motion. After the week you’ve had, you should be the one holding that bottle, treating its contents with the utmost care and respect. 

You wordlessly size him up for a moment before weighing your options:

You could cause a scene, get an employee involved and feign a victim as you childishly point fingers to the man in front of you. 

You could be the bigger person, head held high as you turn around and leave with your tail between your legs. 

You could rip the bottle from his grip–but he could be stronger than you. He’s a stranger, potentially a psycho who could genuinely hurt you over something as silly as a grocery store argument. 

Not loving your odds, you conclude with agitation, “So, you’re not gonna let me have it.”

Though technically a question, your tone leaves little room for him to debate.

The stranger's head slightly tilts to the side, making him instantly appear with an innocence ten years younger. “I never said that,” he shakes his head. 

His tone is borderline cocky, teasing almost, as he practically waves the bottle in front of your face. He’s tempting you, eager to see how far you're willing to go for this cheap bottle of wine–for what reason, you’re not too sure. But after the week you’ve had, something in you doesn't want to give up just yet. 

“Look,” your fingers squeeze the bridge of your nose before lowering your voice to an urgent whisper, “I really need that wine.”

He snorts, “What are you, an alcoholic?”

You rub the tension brewing in your sinuses, “I might become one after this conversation.”

The man sighs in faux disappointment before tsking your way. “In that case,” he swirls the bottle once more, “I probably shouldn’t be enabling you.”

“Well, why do you need it so badly?” you borderline snap out of frustration. 

His face lights up in the slightest, sunglasses falling slightly to reveal the glimmer of excitement swimming in the blues of his eyes. He presses his tongue flat against his bitten cheek, a lazy attempt to hide his clear enthusiasm at your little outburst.

With a smirk, he simply shrugs. “Had a bad day,” he reasons with no real conviction. 

Your head falls back in despair as your eyes stare directly into the harsh lighting hanging from the ceiling of the building. With any luck, it’ll render you blind and remove you from finishing this conversation. 

With a pathetic grumble, you whimper beneath a sigh, “I’m willing to bet mine was worse.”

Handsome Stranger fails to fight off another grin. “Convince me,” he breathes. 

“I’m sorry?”

“Convince me to let you have this bottle of wine,” he enunciates the words, dragging them out slowly as if his pronunciation was what beckoned you to ask him to repeat the foolish request. 

Too far into the argument to care, you swallow your pride in a struggling gulp. You’ve already come this far for the lousy bottle, what’s a little bit of begging? Hell, within the time you’ve spent arguing with this guy, you could’ve driven to an actual liquor store across town and purchased an authentic wine for twice the price. You decide that you’re leaving this store with that bottle, or you’ve failed in every meaning of the word. 

Finding his eyes, you bare your teeth in a growl, “I got fired today.”

“Ooof,” his lips contort to a pout as he winces with a phony sympathy. When your expression doesn’t budge in the slightest, he readjusts himself in surprise, “Wait, actually?”

“Yes,” you grit through clenched teeth.

He tugs on his lower lip, and you hate that it’s almost distracting you from your anger. “Was it deserved?” he beckons. 

You wince once more, “If it was, would I be putting up this much of a fight for a cheap bottle of wine?”

Now, it’s Handsome Stranger who’s sizing you up with a skeptical glare. “Touché,” he nods and your heart beams, but it’s short-lived as he quickly elaborates, “but I’m not fully convinced just yet.”

Your voice squeaks out in an exhausted plea, “What more do you want from me?” 

Almost condescendingly, the man leans down to be level with your height. He raises his eyebrows and squeezes in a saccharinely sweet voice, “A smile wouldn’t hurt.”

As if that’s all it took to pluck your last straw, his simple request ignites something rotten inside of you.

“Fine,” you scowl, readjusting your bag and turning your back to the asshole before calling out a bitter, “enjoy your nine-dollar wine.”

Clunky footsteps hurry behind you and the man slowly jogs around in front of you, preventing you from leaving the aisle with a pathetic frown curving on his lips.

“Hey, hey,” his solid stance ushers you to a halt before he waves a white flag, “you win.”

You eye him up and down, unimpressed with the riddle at hand. “What’s the catch?”  

“Lemme buy it for you,” he uses his free hand to scratch his neck, “seeing how I’m guessing you won’t be getting a paycheck this week.”

“Oh, that’s low.”

“Too soon, huh?”

His defeated tone has you chuckling beneath your breath. Though still weary of the offer before you, the hostility slowly flees from the situation at hand. Seeing your lingering hesitancy, he gestures back to the bottle in his palm. 

“Really though, I mean it. Consider it a thank you for dealing with my antics.” 

If that's the case, then he owes you more than a bottle of wine, the voice in your head snarls. Eyes still suspicious, you slowly nod your head, “Sure.”

The man’s grin grows from ear to ear as he nods his head at your acceptance. “Great!” he bounces a bit too enthusiastically, “I’ll let you finish shopping, meet me at the storefront in five?”

You nod once more before turning around to leave the aisle. The two of you take a combined five steps before you’re met with realization. With a sudden urgency, you whip your head back in his direction. 

“Wait,” you call to him from the opposite end of the aisle. He’s quick to turn around, smile still adorning his face and now paired with (what looks like) a blush. You narrow your eyes at him, “How do I know you’re not just gonna buy the wine and run?”

His nose scrunches as his hand jerks over his heart. “You wound me,” he whimpers with a smirk.

He jogs back over to you, not thinking twice as he hands you his luxury car keys, “I’ll need those before I leave.”

The metal is cold in your palm, the rings jingle together as he plops them down into your hand. Leaving with nothing but a charming wink, he disappears around the corner of the aisle and towards the front of the store. 

A bit overwhelmed, you mindlessly pick up a few things before making your way to checkout. The cashier shoots you a polite smile before ringing up your items: a new sponge for your kitchen sink, a cherry-flavored energy drink, a green patterned lighter, a pack of peppermint gum. 

You're not sure what you expect when walking through the automatic doors and out into the parking lot, but you're met with surprise when the man stands whistling against the side of the building’s brick, with a bag hanging loosely in between his fingers. 

He trots his way over to where you stand in front of the market’s display window. Coming beneath the warmth of the streetlights, the expression on his face is tender and hospitable–he wears a delicate grin that tickles the depths of your stomach.

“Here is your liquid gold, m’lady,” he presents the paper bag to you with a smug sense of pride, “all nine dollars worth of it.”

You accept the bag from his hand with a soft smile. Though clearly tired and worrisome, he thinks the flash of appreciation looks good on you. The stranger nervously shifts his weight where he stands on the sidewalk cement.

“I hope it does the job,” he adds on, and though the situation is silly, his tone carries a sincerity foreign to you. 

“Thanks,” you exhale in relief, before pulling his leg as he begins to walk away. “I hope next time you fight a stranger over the last bottle of wine in the grocery store, you actually get to leave with it.”

He laughs through a giddy smile, one that oozes a contagiously boyish charm, before turning around with a bounce. 

“If that’s the case,” he allows his eyes to drop to where his shoe kicks a rock across the cement, “then I hope the next stranger is you again.”

You crack open the sealed brown paper bag, half intrigued and half actually checking to see if the handsomely irritating man kept up his end of the deal. You sigh in relief–the wine sits happily in the paper where it belongs. However, there are more items scattered throughout the lining of the bag.

You almost call out to him, to flag him down and let him know he forgot his own purchases in the midst of your bickering. However, the contents of the bag make your mouth run dry. A thin bouquet of sunset colored tulips rustles against the cool glass of the bottle. There's a chocolate bar from the checkout sidelines with a receipt covering its brand name. You grab the paper, smoothing it out with your thumb in hopes of reading the cost of the purchase. Instead, your eyes instantly fall to the messy handwriting at the bottom of the receipt. 

“For making my day that a little bit better - Satoru” 

The note is scribbled in the whites of the margins, along with a shaky smiley face and an honest phone number. 

The stranger is nowhere to be found when you finally take in your surroundings. Though your eyes are still dripping with exhaustion, the name Satoru sits on your tongue like a silver lining to the end of your week.

[forbebeandjam]

omg can't wait for audrey's!!!!! thank youuuuuu (⁠ʃ⁠ƪ⁠＾⁠3⁠＾⁠）

Fear | Audrey Lane x Fem Reader | Fluff

Summary: a small misunderstanding leads you and your girlfriend, Audrey to end up on bad terms. Three months later, you realize how much you love each other.

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: a bit angst. Brain tumor mention.

A/N: sorry if it’s a bit unrealistic. I know it’s not my best work. I’m not a medic or doctor… enjoyyyy •u•

~🫧♥︎🫧~

You and Audrey had been working nonstop on a new K-pop choreography. Being a part of the Jam Republic dance crew has been a milestone in your career. You went from being a small and heavily criticized TikTok dancer who covered K-pop dance to a successful choreographer.

Having Nick reach out to you to be part of this project was perfect as he had also contacted your girlfriend, Audrey. You couldn't believe that you and Audrey got to dance together and spend time together as well.

However your schedules were packed and after the show, there were some things you two couldn't do together. She was booked doing the brand new show Street Dance Girls Fighter 2 and you were booked creating new choreographies and interviews.

One day you finally got to see her but you were too tired. She seemed to be really excited to hang out with you and you were just thinking of going home.

"What if we take a walk? and then we can go camping," she suggested but you shook your head.

"Sorry, Audrey. I'm drained and I just want to lay down," you said bluntly. One thing about you is that you could be very oblivious to others' feelings when you weren't feeling well... not to mention minor anger issues that almost caused you major trouble with Mannequeen.

"Well, what if we just go for some ice cream? Or maybe something to eat?" She said once again with her bubbly voice trying to get you out of bed and spend quality time together. It's Audrey. She was always bubbly and you lived for her but at this moment, tiredness hit you like a truck.

"Jeez, I said no. I'll just be in my room," you said in an aggravated tone leaving her behind on the couch.

You took painkillers for your headache and as you lay on your bed you heard soft sobs making your heart clench at the sounds. You know you fucked up. You promised to never make her cry and you just did. As you tried to get up to apologize, you felt your body collapse on the floor and you were unable to get up. Your vision immediately became dark.

-

You woke up and saw a bright light. You definitely weren't home. Your house was green and the lights were almost always dimmed. This room was too blue.

Your eyes tried to adjust and you groaned. You felt someone grip your hand tightly but the voice was almost unrecognizable as your ears also tried adjusting to the noise.

"Audrey..." was the first thing that escaped your lips. You called her name. You wanted to apologize and when your vision finally cleared up, you saw her sitting on the side of the hospital bed holding your hand and asking if you were okay. Her eyes were red and teary as well as her nose as she let out sniffles.

You felt your heart clench at her sight. You made her cry twice. You never meant for any of this to happen. As you tried to get up your poising headache pulled you back to the bed.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, baby. Please forgive me," you said as a tear escaped your eye. Her head shook repeatedly.

"Don't apologize. I didn't realize you felt this bad and I should've known. I should've made you rest and taken care of you," she said as she lowered her head.

"Audrey, it's okay. I'm okay, see?" You said as you kissed her hand.

"You're not. Sorry to tell you this ma'am but you have a brain tumor. You need surgery and treatment as well as absolute rest for around three months. We need to do this now or you might not make it another month," the doctor said. You didn't protest. You knew it would be best if you wanted to keep living the life that you have. You wanted to be with Audrey.

"Audrey?" You said when you saw how she was holding in her sobs and cries. She turned to look at you with red eyes and you began to cry as well.

"I love you. I love you so much and I will be with you forever," you said.

"Don't... it sounds like you're saying goodbye," she said.

"I know you have to catch a flight. You have to go back home. Go work on your projects, baby. And come back to me in three months," you said and she started to shake her head.

"I can't leave you. Who will take care of you? Who is going to make sure you're okay? I want to make sure you wake up and you can see me and..." you moved your hand on her cheek and she stopped talking. She shut her eyes tightly and pressed her lips on your hand.

"I will be okay, baby. I have to go now but never forget that I love you so much," you kissed her one last time before the nurse took you away.

-

(Three months later)

It was finally the day. The day Audrey would come back and you could be together again. This time you promised you would never let her go and would never make her cry.

You heard the doorbell and rushed to the door. You fixed my clothes and hair before taking a deep breath and finally took ahold of the doorknob. You twisted it and there she was. A big smile and a beautiful gold light radiating from her. Her eyes seemed to be teary and her smile was shaking.

She immediately dropped her bags and ran to you. She grabbed your face a kissed you tenderly. It was a long-awaited kiss. Three months felt like an eternity without her. How could someone live without that gorgeous smile? It's a smile you would die for.

"You have no idea how much I missed you," she said as she buried her face down your neck. Her sobs began to fill your ears and your tears began to roll down your face.

"I missed you too," you said as you kissed her head.

"How about we get out of here? I have a surprise for you," you said and she looked at you with a confused expression.

"But you need to rest more. What if-" Audrey started but you stopped her by shaking your head.

"I'm okay. We aren't doing anything that might be straining. Let's go," you said as you put on your shoes and jacket and walked out of the door with her. She was too quiet for your liking but you didn't say anything as you saw her fidgeting with her hands in the car. You knew she was nervous.

After around thirty minutes you arrived at a camping site and got out of the car to open her door. A small smile was painted on her lips.

"You didn't forget about the camping date?" She asked.

"I could never forget about your favorite thing. Your pink curly hair, the sweet perfume you use, the way you move when you dance. It's all engraved in my head. Let's set up and watch a movie," you said as you walked to get our things from the trunk.

A few hours later you had everything set up and ate dinner. The sun was starting to slowly set creating a beautiful orange and pink hue in the sky. Audrey was silently sitting on a chair looking at the sky as she took small sips of her tea. Your biggest fears began to fill your head like poison.

'Does she not love me anymore? Is there someone else? Did she find someone that treats her better?'

"Audrey, come here," you said and she turned to you. She stood up and placed her mug on the chair. As she walked to you, you immediately cupped her face with your warm hands and planted a kiss on her lips.

"Whatever is on your mind, tell me," you said as you broke the kiss.

"It's just all surreal. I thought I was going to lose you and not being able to contact you due to work was killing me and now that I'm here, I just feel like I should've been here all along," she said.

You immediately connected your forehead to hers. You wanted her to forget about everything and anything that happened in the past.

"Baby, you're here now and I couldn't ask for more. You're all I need and I just want to be with you. Enjoy the moment, my sweet girl," you said and kissed her forehead.

That seemed to make all of her worries melt away. Her mind was clear and her heart warm. She smiled brightly for the first time and a small tear escaped her eye. You kissed it dry and she let out a small giggle that melted your heart.

Setting up for bed was quick and soon you realized that you had forgotten her sleeping bag back home. You scratched your head and chuckled nervously.

"Sorry, babe. I forgot your sleeping bag," you said.

"It's okay. We can sleep in the same one," she said as she got situated. She looked up at you and you nodded. You got inside the bag and spooned her, sharing the warmth of your body as a movie played on your iPad.

Suddenly, she turned to face you, completely ignoring the movie. You were lost in her eyes and you shared a moment of silence.

She reached to peck your lips and you finally saw her purest smile.

"I don't know how I managed to be with you for so long. I'll never leave you again. Promise you'll never scare me like that again," she said as she buried her face in your chest.

"I'm sorry baby, I'll never do it again..."

There was a small pause and you pulled back from the hug.

"We fit perfectly in this sleeping bag don't you think?" You asked.

"Yes. We are perfect," she said before snuggling close to you.

“I love you,” You kissed her forehead and you both drifted into a deep slumber.

Thank you for reading!!🩷

[mygreatadventurehasbegun]

My Favorite New-To-Me Movies of 2023

Women Talking

This movie won the Oscar of Best Adapted Screenplay and deservedly so...it's scenes are so tightly written and delivered so beautifully by the incredible cast of actresses, that it held my attention for the entire runtime. Every performance was fantastic, and I wish at least one of them had received recognition from the Academy...personally my vote would have been for Claire Foy, but any one of them could have walked away with a nomination.

Pearl

This was such an interesting horror flick...the saturated color palette, the extreme bursts of violence and of course, the magnificent performance by Mia Goth. She was absolutely fascinating to watch...the character of Pearl is so desperate to leave her home and to become a star that she will stop at nothing to get what she wants.

They Shoot Horses, Don't They?

While I consider this to be one of the best movies I've seen this year...it's not necessarily one I'd ever want to watch again. At least not in the near future...because this movie is bleak. During the Great Depression, a group of people sign up for a dance marathon with the hope of winning the prize money. All the characters are so compelling and interesting to watch. Absolutely recommend watching it, especially for Jane Fonda's outstanding performance...but you might finish the movie a bit depressed.

Deathtrap

Man, this movie is fun. It's the kind of movie that I can't say too much about, because the plot is so full of twists...but the basic idea is: A famous playwright, coming off a string of flops, learns that his former student has written a surefire hit play, and he conspires to murder his student and take the play as his own. And you have Christopher Reeve wearing some fantastic sweaters.

Sweet Smell of Success

This movie is so good, I don't even know where to start. The performances, the writing, the cinematography...it's such a perfect example of a noir film (especially one that doesn't focus on a murder or a detective). I wasn't sure what to expect when I started, but from the moment I pressed play, I was completely engrossed.

The Last of Sheila

I really caught up on my murder mysteries this year...and The Last of Sheila is a really great one. Another movie that I can't say too much about because of it's twisty plot...but I will say you can definitely see how it influenced Rian Johnson for his Knives Out films. Also, this was co-written by Anthony Perkins and Stephen Sondheim!

Catch-22

I blind bought this one after Alan Arkin's death...I had never seen it, but thought it seemed like a fun enough film to take the gamble on. And boy, was I right! While I can see why some critics didn't love it back then, this movie is so wonderfully bonkers, I can't help but love it! The witty dialogue, clever shot composition and excellent performances by a massive cast make this movie a real treat!

Home Before Dark

This was a very random find for me...I actually just came across it on TV when it was starting and decided to stick with it (just like the olden days, get off my lawn). And while the movie itself isn't perfect, I was completely drawn in by Jean Simmons' performance. Her character has just returned home from a stay at an asylum, and while she tries to reacclimate to life at home, we start to see her lose it again...but we aren't sure if she is actually being pushed towards that breakdown intentionally. It has a few shades of the movie Gaslight, for sure.

The Collector

This may have been my favorite new-to-me movie of the year! It is such an intense and uncomfortable film, with amazing performances by the two lead actors and an ending that I did not see coming. Given the story and the setting, I could almost see this easily being turned into a stage play...I'd love to see a theater try and capture the claustrophobic feeling you get when Miranda is trapped in that cellar.

A few honorable mentions are: All Quiet on the Western Front (2022), The Thin Man, Sound of Metal, Persona and Somewhere in Time (this one mostly for the melodrama, lol)

Here's to more movies in 2024!

[r5lette]

— WHO IS ROULETTE?

ROULETTE is a fictional five-member girl group under BE:Ond Media. Their label was originally created for the purpose of music, but has had more success in the areas of television and film, producing some of the most critically acclaimed films of the past fifteen years. As for their music department, the lineup was extremely lackluster. There have been two groups that debuted since BE:Ond's launch in 2008; VYBE, a boy group that lasted from 2009-2013 and LUMIN8, a girl group that lasted from 2012-2019. VYBE was lauded as a flop group and LUMIN8 had a few popular songs, but it was never enough to gain them real traction.

It wasn't until ROULETTE debuted with their digital single "UNFORGIVEN" that BE:Ond's music branch would be put on the map. The song was a moderate success. It didn't get them any wins, but it attracted a lot of eyes to the group. Netizens were particularly interested in how this group from a company with such bad luck and mismanagement of their previous groups managed to not only produce extremely talented trainees but also trainees who were somewhat popular on their own in the case of members like CHERRY and JIHYE. Their major break would come after their third release and first mini album, "BEAT OF MY DRUM". The song went viral for its strange sound and its complete deviation from their debut release. The song earned them their first two wins.

They're now known as 4th generation trendsetters and are one of the most recognizable groups of the time. Their success has shown no signs of slowing down, but fans and antis alike wonder how long the group can hold up before it comes crumbling like their sister and brother groups.

— MEET THE MEMBERS!

YASMIN BROOKS was born in London to two musical theatre actors. The couple met on the West End production of The Lion King, with her mother playing Nala and her father a dance captain and ensemble member. Music and dance was always a part of her life. From a young age, she was heavily involved in musical theatre classes and projects. At age 10, her family relocated back to New York, where her father was originally from. In New York, she attended performing arts schools through high school. After school, she joined a dance crew and performed as a background dancer. BE:Ond held an international audition in New York and Yasmin auditioned and signed with the company.

Yasmin only trained for a year and a half since she already had a lifetime of vocal and dance training. Although she had over 15 years of experience, she states that this year of her life was the hardest she'd ever had to endure. Being placed in a new country with basic knowledge of the language, thousands of miles from family, and being judged every day by superiors and peers was an extreme shock for Yasmin. Fans noticed that during the group's first year, Yasmin was notably the quietest and most reserved. It wasn't until the group started to get their footing that Yasmin began to show her personality more. Now, she's one of the most popular members internationally and is known for her stage presence.

BIRTH NAME: yasmin brooks DATE OF BIRTH: september 2, 2000 ZODIAC: virgo BIRTHPLACE: london, england HOMETOWN: london, england ETHNICITY: black NATIONALITY: british-american GROUP: rouletteSTAGE NAME: yasmin YEARS TRAINED: one year POSITION: rapper and vocal HEIGHT: 5’4 FACECLAIM: indiyah pollack

NAM CHAE-RI was born in Sokcho, South Korea to a schoolteacher mother and a chef father. Her father owned a restaurant near the beach that was fairly popular with locals. One day, a BE:Ond scout came to her family's restaurant and Chae-ri happened to sing a song for one of the regulars. The scout gave her parents his card afterward and she was soon signed as a trainee at the company.

Though she had no prior training, her secret weapon was her ability to memorize. She could learn a full choreography and execute it with ease in a few hours. Her dance ability and hard-working mentality quickly made her a favorite trainee around the BE:Ond building. Her hard work started to pay off when she went on PRODUCE48. She made it up to rank 18 before being eliminated. Her time as a Produce 48 contestant brought a lot of initial eyes to the group's debut, as Chae-ri was a fan favorite who seemingly disappeared after the show. Cherry is known most in the group for her dance skills and visuals.

BIRTH NAME: nam chae-ri DATE OF BIRTH: april 17th, 2000 ZODIAC: aries BIRTHPLACE: sokcho, south korea HOMETOWN: sokcho, south korea ETHNICITY: korean NATIONALITY: korean GROUP: roulette STAGE NAME: cherry YEARS TRAINED: five years POSITION: dancer and rapper HEIGHT: 5’6 FACECLAIM: hwang yeji

WU MEI-HUA was born in Shanghai, China to a mother who was a former model and entertainer and a father who works in finance. The details of her father's occupation are vague, even to Mei herself, but the one thing that can't be contested is that her family is loaded. Beautiful beach getaways and trips to Milan were commonplace for her family.

With their stacks of money, Mei had access to amazing vocal coaches who trained her already sweet tone into one that sounded like honey. She auditioned for BE:Ond when she was sixteen and quickly joined the company. From the group's debut, there have been rumors that Mei's father bought her way into the company and/or into ROULETTE's lineup. Both Mei and BE:Ond have vehemently denied any sort of foul play in the selection process.

BIRTH NAME: wu mei-hua DATE OF BIRTH: july 23, 2002 ZODIAC: leo BIRTHPLACE: shanghai, china HOMETOWN: shanghai, china ETHNICITY: han chinese NATIONALITY: chinese GROUP: roulette STAGE NAME: mei YEARS TRAINED: three years POSITION: vocal and visual HEIGHT: 5’3 FACECLAIM: ning yi zhuo (ningning)

MALI SUPARAT was born in Hat Yai, Thailand as the second youngest of seven children. Her childhood wasn't the best; she was raised more by her older brother than her parents because they were busy trying to provide for their family. When Mali turned six, her aunt who lived in L.A. offered to take in Mali and her younger sister to help alleviate some of her parent's stress. A few months later, she was in the States.

While living in L.A., she got extremely interested in dance and K-pop. One of her favorite groups in middle school was LUMIN8. Mali decided to send an online audition to BE:Ond, performing one of LUMIN8's most popular songs, Catch Me If You Can. This audition tape went viral after ROULETTE's debut and Mali was asked to perform it at nearly every variety show during their debut run. Out of all the girls, Mali has had the most scandals regarding her attitude and comments towards antis, obsessed fans, and even other idols. She's explained that things are taken out of context because of her blunt nature and sarcastic jokes, but it has made Mali somewhat of a polarizing ember in the lineup.

BIRTH NAME: mali suparat DATE OF BIRTH: may 30, 2001 ZODIAC: gemini BIRTHPLACE: hat yai, thailand HOMETOWN: los angeles, california ETHNICITY: thai NATIONALITY: thai-american GROUP: roulette STAGE NAME: maliYEARS TRAINED: three years POSITION: vocal and dancer HEIGHT: 5’5 FACECLAIM: anatchaya suputhipong (natty)

KWON JIHYE was born in Ulsan, South Korea as the only child of a former model and a talent agent. Her father wasn't in the picture a lot outside of birthdays or Christmas. Maybe a visit once else throughout the year, but nothing substantial. Jihye's time was consumed most by beauty pageants, dance classes, and private lessons. Her mother pushed for her to be the best in all areas. If she couldn't achieve all the milestones she wanted in her modeling career, she would make sure that her child had the opportunity to.

At the young age of 14, her mom applied for her to audition for SM Entertainment. She was rejected on her first try but was accepted as a trainee on her second try a few months later. Jihye became a part of SM Rookies and was a well-known trainee around the company. In 2020, she left SM to join BE:Ond for better chances at a debut. Jihye has always been one of the more popular members due to her experience and calm, alluring personality that draws fans in.

A year after their debut, Jihye went on hiatus. Fans were shocked and upset, especially since it was extremely sudden; the night before Jihye was on live, seemingly in good spirits and there was no mention of a hiatus at all. The next morning, BE:Ond announced that the group's following comeback would only be as four. The exact reason why she was leaving was never revealed. The most the company or Jihye gave was an "unexpected health emergency". When Jihye returned, some select fans turned into OT4 supporters and believed that the group was better without her in it.

BIRTH NAME: kwon jihye DATE OF BIRTH: october 30, 2000 ZODIAC: scorpio BIRTHPLACE: ulsan, sk HOMETOWN: ulsan, sk ETHNICITY: korean NATIONALITY: korean GROUP: roulette STAGE NAME: jihye YEARS TRAINED: six years POSITION: vocal and dancer HEIGHT: 5’7 FACECLAIM: ha sooyoung (yves)

[beautifulpersonpeach]

bpp im a different anon, but i have some major follow up asks pls. im seeing a lot of narratives and im confused. what do you say to the view that jimin is the most successful soloist in bts and taekook's popularity mainly because of their shippers and visuals not their ability as musicians. it seems true when you see jimin's songs are most streamed. jimin's songs are always most successful, he focuses on music while taekook get clout for their looks mostly. people also join the fandom for jimin. he's the biggest stan attractor. i think big hit is marketing bts using jimin to push other members. people notice jimin first then look at other bts members. jungkook is most favored promoted in bts even though jimin is more talented in things like dancing based on critics reviews. you can't deny it. in addition the other anon you didn't address their point about the weverse article bpp. i would really love to see your reply to why big hit discredits jimin's success in weverse. i want to support jikook fully but my heart bleeds for jimin. im ot7 and love all seven members but it's so clear the company doesn't give him the marketing and support he deserves while they give other members everything.

Ask 2: bpp sorry i forgot to add the way jimin attracts people and men highly. his androgenous look is power. he has real star power and shocked everybody with his billboard win using a korean song!! jimin has the air of royalty so he attracts high end brands, jungkook is like boy next door so big hit market him to common brands like calvin klein. its not wrong to say it. my question is, why doesnt jimin push himself? why does he just accept the mistreatment? he said so many things in his album and now it just feels empty? its like he doesn't want to be a solo star. does big hit not see the power and support he has? does jimin not see it? should we be louder as jimin fans? the way taekook fans are loud? why does the fandom not support them equally? im so confused bpp.

***

Sigh. Y'all, that fandom implosion I keep talking about? It's coming.

Anyone who thinks Jimin fans aren't 'loud', hasn't been to Korea, was probably in a coma when Jimin got #1 on the Billboard Hot100, or probably just doesn't have a Twitter account.

You know, I've known for a while that the closer we get to Jungkook and Taehyung's solo debuts, the more I'll see asks like this in my inbox.

I'm in a shipping space after all, and everyone knows many shippers think like solo stans of their chosen duo. It just can't be helped. It's inevitable because being extremely biased on one member or pairing, you're bound to develop a peculiar type of tunnel vision. It's why shipping spaces get so toxic so quickly - shippers are only one logical argument removed from solo stans and so often occupy spaces directly adjacent to solo stan spaces. In my opinion.

I mean, it's literally FESTA. BTS's 10th year anniversary, but because of the fights, arguments, and narratives happening in akgae spaces for the last couple of days, my inbox has seen about 5 asks about how Jimin is hated by HYBE, how Jungkook is a special golden goose at the expense of Jimin, how everyone in BTS leeches off Jimin, and how he's actually the most successful and most talented, la di la di la da... just in the last 24 hours or so.

In a way, I don't mind it because I know where it comes from. If you're in a space where you see someone you love constantly dehumanized, slutshamed, all his achievements ridiculed and made to seem bought and worthless, people already anticipating his records broken by the next solo release when you feel his solo debut was inadequate, etc, it's not hard to see how the kneejerk reaction to this is to magnify what you believe to be his worth. It's true also that Jimin has faced specific handicaps not seen for other members, deals with a potent mix of prejudices, and is exceptionally talented in performing, acting, and the way he expresses music in dance and vocal tone. He stands out and many people get into BTS because of him.

The thing is, in a group like BTS, it's impossible to do this without disrespecting and putting down the other members, because they are all very talented and are excellent performers, have all made sacrifices and compromises for the team - most of which we'll never know, and have all contributed equally to the success that is BTS.

If you're actually paying attention to all seven members, to what they say to and about each other and their team, this would be obvious. For another Anon who saw D-DAY concerts and asked me if BTS concerts is how you become OT7. I never answered that question, but Anon if you're reading this, the answer is no. The way you become OT7 is actually listening to what they say, putting aside your preconceived notions about what a band should look like (the breakout star and frontman model), and keeping your eyes open and your wits about you.

Just as I said in my post on Jimin's contributions to BTS about how people who downplay him think about 'contribution' in a very narrow way that's centered on what resonates most with them, so too is this view applied to other members' contributions to the team that don't center on dancing, singing, and acts of kindness or sacrifice captured on camera.

Obviously. Well, in my opinion at least.

Also, the comments about Jungkook in this ask frankly make my skin crawl.

I'm not surprised to see it, but I find it no less gross all the same. Then there's the way I'm seeing yet again how Jimin's stans simply do not rate this man. Like, yes Jimin's FACE promo was rushed, but it's clear the man has been working since then? In what world does it look like the sentiments he communicated in Set Me Free Pt 2 feel empty? Because he's not on a tour? Angel Pt 1 is out and Pt 2 is OTW, and he's clearly still working on his projects (as is Namjoon btw) which will come later this year, but I suppose these don't count for you.

It's kinda weird to leave a space where rapline akgaes grumble about how Namgiseok all got less than 10 seconds each on Take Two - a song they wrote, how they've been getting less and less lines in BTS's songs in recent years, how the company pushes the maknae line even though people got into BTS for how good the music, production, songwriting is and blah blah blah.

Then log on here and have the plain surreal experience to see anyone say Tae and JK are popular more because of their ship and are somehow less musicians than Jimin. Like, 'Still With You' Jungkook and 'constantly coming online to share the song I made and deleted' Taehyung aren't musicians? It sounds just as ridiculous as when I hear taekookers say Jimin is mostly popular because of jikook. This is just not a claim that makes sense any way you look at it.

But again, that's just what solo stans do. They genuinely believe their chosen member is simply better than everyone else, and that his company and his team are the reason that member isn't seeing success the way solo stans envision it. They make their lists and have their reasons. And for a lot of groups, that view is actually very true. But for BTS, they simply would not have reached the levels they have, if this were true for them. There's too many eyes on them, their fans too involved, and the members too outspoken, to allow themselves be taken for a ride for 10 bloody years. In Chapter 2 it's expected that different members will see various levels of success for various reasons. One reason I say an implosion is coming, because many of those reasons have become interwoven and tainted with the narratives I listed above. The impulse to root for our favourites is very human, and few things propel people better than a sense of injustice or slight, and so it's easy to see how many will latch onto these narratives in Chapter 2, regardless of what the facts actually are.

Anyway, I've rambled. Neither of us have all the information on what BigHit has done or is doing, nor what the boys' plans are. The only people who know are the members, and so I mind my business, respect their choices, and do what I like.

And Anon, you're right I didn't address the Weverse article in my initial reply. I actually reached out to that 'Anon' right after with a reply, and will copy-paste what I told her, here:

"I just realized I forgot to respond to the point you made about the Weverse article and Jimin. It was written by a well know music critic in Korea, sometimes Weverse articles are written by critics or media commentators well known in Korea, I suspect to drive up local readership. Having writers who don’t always have a glowing opinion on Hybe and its artists, also give the impression the magazine is more credible (though I think this is nonsense). That Weverse article is actually something I reported to the company. Less because of Jimin to be fair, and more because the article was racist. The racist/tone-deaf sentiments in the article are unfortunately common in Korea and I’ve seen it first hand, but Hybe is a global company and has to develop the racial sensitivity that meets basic international norms. IMO. And so I wrote a brief email and left it at that."

I could talk more about the parallel between the racist Weverse article and what it shows for HYBE's corporate structure relative to what the members actually do, believe, impact, or say, but I've rambled and I'm tired. I hope most of what I said made sense to you Anon. Chances are I'll ignore any follow up asks because nobody really changes their mind on the internet, and I've got a backlog of asks to respond to.

[annabelle--cane]

pls I need episode sources for the true ones in the wtnv polls

this is about my "which of these is a fake fact about welcome to night vale" poll and ideally one should take that before reading these answers. having said that, let's go:

NVlians have to fill out triplicate sex paperwork with all potential partners: canon in the novel it devours! a few paragraphs from chapter 13,

2. cecil is an avid tiktok user and regularly records dances at the radio station: this is the false one, it's actually carlos who is the wannabe tiktok star. from episode "218 - the sitter cancelled,"

I tried to get Carlos to take Esteban to the lab, but apparently today they’re doing a dangerous experiment and he doesn’t want our son to get hurt. I’m not sure I believe that. I think Carlos might just want some time alone to work on his Tiktok dances. He’s obsessed these days with getting one to go viral, and he’s putting a few too many hours into choreographing and filming these things. 

3. k[h]oshekh the floating cat is a misogynist: from 195 and 196, silas the thief parts 1 & 2. these episodes are told from the perspective of silas, a former successful art thief who used to work with a partner called sandrine whom he never got on with, largely due to his self-centeredness and misogyny never letting him see her as a full person. it all came to a head when sandrine, as an act of revenge, cursed him to be an immobile mutant cat for the rest of his days, and this is the cat we have known all along as khoshekh gershwin-palmer. however he has mellowed since then and his misogyny has kind of cooled, having kids really changed him.

4. cecil turns a recurring nightmare of his into an nft: I feel the need to say he turned the nightmare itself into an nft, not an artistic representation or anything. from "199 - guidelines for retrieval,"

And thus ends the new Guidelines for Retrieval. Aw, that’s such a nice offer from the Sanitation Department! A little long winded maybe, but I don’t want to be too critical. I know their public communications department has had a lot of turnover lately. Anyway, I definitely will be taking them up on that offer this week. There’s a super vivid recurring nightmare I used to have that would make a great NFT.

5. cecil doesn’t know what fridges are: this one comes from the 2017 live show "ghost stories,"

Cecil: Oh yeah! Carlos and I have one of those humming closets, and when I open it up, there’s a light inside and cool air washes over me and I’m just like – what is this thing? Earl: Well, that’s just your refrigerator, Cecil. Cecil: Wait, that’s a refrigerator?! Earl: What have you been using as a fridge? Cecil: [beat] So tell us more about this master class um, Earl.

6. carlos climaxes in person in voice on podcast: from the patreon bonus episode "holiday." thinking or talking about science at too great length has a long canonical track record of getting carlos hot and bothered, and in one passage of the episode he starts talking about how much he loves doing science with a romantic partner, and, well. I'll just link the clip.

7. a big villain is defeated by getting squashed under a falling cow: major spoilers for very recent content here. in episode "230 - carlos explained," right as dr janet lubelle is giving her big villain monologue, this happens,

DR. LUBELLE: Now you’re starting to understand. There is no defeating me. No trick to wriggling out under my thumb. I’ve gamed out every gambit. Foreseen every fumbling, sweaty strategy. You have lost. And now…now Carlos, I will explain you away. You, Dr. Carlos Robles, were the son of [WHISTLING SOUND OF SOMETHING FALLING FROM THE SKY. LOUD SPLAT] [LONG PAUSE] CECIL: And that’s when the Glow Cloud dropped a dead cow on Dr. Lubelle. I sure hope she wasn’t injured. We should definitely check on her at some point, you know, eventually.

8. joseph fink, irl writer of the podcast, has been a NV radio intern twice: once, in the live show "the investigators," an intern played by joseph fink introduces himself as intern joseph fink. in all fairness, he could just be playing a character with his exact name, I mean, that's what maureen johnson does. however, from episode "188 - listener questions" onward, our world has in-universe been merging with the night vale world, and the actual writer joseph fink has been trapped in the town of night vale for over two years, at one point doing a stint as an intern.

9. a big villain is offered “an extra hour in the ball pit” as a bribe to go away: this one's about dr janet lubelle, again. in the last couple of seasons, tamika flynn has been feeling like she's outgrowing using violence as a tool to solve her problems, so in "228 - diplomacy," she tries the following,

Frustrations have swelled to a new high in Night Vale after Councilmember Tamika Flynn’s failed diplomatic attempts with the University of What It Is. Tamika tried offering them everything from limitless use of the scrublands to a coupon book full of cute tasks like free backrubs. She even offered an extra hour in the ball pit at the Night Vale Convention Center. But Dr. Lubelle and all of her henchmen will not budge.