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sluttywonwoo · 10 months

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instead of you [part thirty-three] || l.mh

pairing: [best friend’s brother] lee minho x college!reader ft. han jisung

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either.

warnings: swearing, angst, discussions of plane disasters, mentions of sex (mdni ; 18+)

word count: 3k

a/n: revamped my tom holland series from my main blog ( @wazzupmrstark ) to try and motivate myself to finish it!!

additional a/n: disclaimer that this chapter and the following chapters take place on oahu and kauai, hawai'i. i wrote this a year ago (originally posted on sept. 22, 2022) and included mentions of the negative impact and sentiment tourism in hawai'i procures, but it was before the fires in maui. i included hawai'i in their vacation in the first place because i'm part hawaiian and wanted to bring attention to our people's attitude toward tourists while also writing about the parts of the islands that i grew up loving. and i thought i should clarify that before posting, as i feel the context is important to precede what would be an otherwise distasteful choice if i had written this now. please keep hawai'i in your thoughts, mahalo plenty <3

series masterlist | early access to the next chapter on ko-fi

Predictably, you cried yourself to sleep. You debated over whether or not to tell Minho. He’d probably find out when he woke up in the morning but would he be mad if he didn’t hear it from you? If Jisung was right, he didn’t care about you at all, so why would you grant him the courtesy of a head’s up? You didn’t want to believe Jisung, rather, you wanted to believe that he had only said those things in the heat of the moment but at the end of the day, he knew Minho far better than you did. Whether or not he was telling the truth to try and save you or lying to hurt you was up to you to decipher.

You wound up texting Minho, ‘Jisung knows,’ without any other context and calling it a night.

The next morning, you woke up to a message from Jisung telling you not to bother getting ready for the day and that he’d be going on without you. It was mostly a relief not to have to put on an act after everything that happened the night before but it also stung.

You weren’t very optimistic about repairing your relationship with Jisung, but any lingering hope vanished when he wouldn’t even look at you in passing in the hallway.

You spent the entire day in bed, trying to distract yourself with anything you could think of to pass the time. You scrolled through social media until your timelines stopped refreshing with new content. There wasn’t anything interesting enough on TV to pull you out of spiraling so you didn’t even bother trying to find something to hold your attention.

At one point you remembered the book you were reading but as soon as you opened it you were greeted by all of Jisung’s little annotations he had left for you. He still had your book and you wondered if he would ever finish it now that you’d ruined everything.

You thought about texting him, just to check in or try and talk about things but you didn’t want to bother him. A couple of times, you almost texted him just out of instinct. You would go to send him a tweet that you thought he’d find funny and then remember.

Minho came by your room that night after dinner when everyone was back from the day’s activities. He knocked twice, letting himself in before you’d even finished telling him he could enter.

“Care to explain what happened?” he asked, hands on his hips.

You shrugged noncommittally. “Jisung found out.”

“How? Did you tell him?”

“And ruin my own relationship with my best friend? Yeah, definitely.”

Minho rolled his eyes. “I didn’t come here to argue. I just want to know what happened.”

“Then don’t accuse me of shit.”

“I didn’t mean- I’m sorry. That’s not what I was trying to do.”

You sighed and signaled for him to sit down if he wanted to. He did, perching himself on the edge of the bed cautiously.

“He knows because he noticed me sneaking out and finally decided to follow me.”

The color drained from Minho’s face. “So he heard-”

You nodded. “I don’t know how much, but enough.”

“Fuck.”

“Fuck is right.”

“He wouldn’t say a word to me today,” Minho said.

“He wouldn’t even look at me.”

“I guess we knew this would happen eventually.”

“Yeah.”

“We fucked up.”

“Yeah.”

“You were right.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, furrowing your eyebrows.

“We really do deserve each other.”

Oh. What Jisung had said earlier rang through your ears again.

“I guess I was.”

Just then, the door to the bedroom opened and Jisung walked in, scoffing as he passed his brother.

“I should have known,” he muttered to himself.

“Ji, look-” Minho tried, only to be immediately cut off by his younger brother.

“Don’t. Please just fucking don’t.”

“But-”

“God, you never listen to a word I say, do you? Either of you?”

You wanted to protest that you did listen to him but you thought better of it. It wouldn’t help your case at all. Instead, you sat there silently like a child being scolded.

“I don’t want to hear you explain yourself,” Jisung continued. “I don’t care why you fucked my best friend. I think the act in itself doesn’t need an explanation.” Minho opened his mouth to respond but Jisung cut him off again. “I don’t want to hear an apology either. I already know you don’t mean it. In fact, I think we’re done here so if you wouldn’t mind getting the fuck out of my room...”

Minho looked like he wanted to argue but likely knew it wouldn’t do any good so he simply hung his head and let himself out, bidding you a quiet goodnight as he left. You didn’t respond. You didn’t even acknowledge him. How could you?

“Don’t forget to pack your things for the flight tomorrow. It’s a long one.”

You sat there, stunned. You hadn’t expected Jisung to speak to you at all, let alone say something amicable.

“O-ok thanks,” you responded shakily.

“I’m sleeping in here tonight,” he added.

“Oh-” you scrambled up, preparing to leave but Jisung stopped you.

“No, I meant with you. It’d look weird if I slept on the couch again.”

Of course. Keeping up appearances.

“Is it even worth it to do this anymore?” you asked. “I mean, it’s falling apart at the seams.”

“It’ll be fine,” Jisung argued. “It’s just a few more weeks.”

“Do you really want to keep pretending to be in love with someone you hate?”

He froze, still bent over his suitcase. Then he straightened up and turned to face you.

“I don’t hate you.”

“You don’t?”

“No, I don’t think I could ever hate you. I’ve been trying, trust me.”

You weren’t sure how to take that. You weren’t sure how you were supposed to take it. You tried not to let his words stoke the embers of hope you were still clinging on to but it was already proving difficult.

“Maybe with time,” you suggested.

He shrugged. “Ready for bed?”

You managed to get some sleep, despite everything. It took a while for your heart to calm down as you lay there beside your (ex?) best friend who was already snoring softly. He had fallen asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. You weren’t sure how he was able to drift off so easily in spite of your whole friendship falling apart but perhaps the stress was only one-sided.

You were the one being eaten alive by anxiety and guilt. All he had to do was mourn the loss of everything you destroyed.

The hours of sleep you did get passed quickly without dreams which was unusual for you. Before you knew it, Jisung’s alarm was going off and both of you were groaning as you dragged yourself out of bed.

You finished packing the rest of your things in relative silence. Neither of you had much to say aside from when you passed each other’s things back and forth from your suitcases.

The sun had yet to come up when the rest of the Hans gathered in the kitchen with their luggage. Since the flight was over twelve hours long Jisung’s parents had booked the earliest possible departure which just so happened to be before the sunrise.

The boys slept during the ride to the airport but you weren’t able to. You were squished between Jisung and Minho in the very back of the van, feeling like a pin in a grenade. They ignored each other, of course, both seemingly dead to the world.

Minho woke up before Jisung. He glanced over at you and offered an expression of sympathy. You just shrugged in response.

Sitting in the car like that caused your knees to brush up against each other every so often, each time you rounded a corner or went over a speed bump. Every time it happened you fought the urge to meet his eyes. The touch, be it fleeting, made your chest tighten over and over again until you were half-convinced you were going into cardiac arrest. Eventually, Minho gave up trying to give you space and just let his knee rest against yours. Funnily enough, it helped you relax.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

“It’s fine.”

He was so hard to read these days. Not that he was ever easy to read. You couldn’t tell whether or not he liked having his knee there. You weren’t sure why you were getting so caught up on it in the first place.

You longed to hold his hand. You longed to hold Jisung’s hand. But all you could do was sit there in between the two and wait until you finally arrived at the airport.

Thankfully, Minho was sat with his parents for the flight, which meant you were squeezed in between Jisung and Felix. You gave Jisung the window seat, knowing you wouldn’t get any sleep yourself. He looked like he wanted to argue when you offered it to him but ultimately surrendered when he saw the look in your eyes. You compromised for switching halfway through since the flight was so long but even that seemed to be pushing it for him.

It was funny how Jisung was still looking out for you after everything you had done. It was as if it was instinctual to him, to put you before himself. The realization almost made you tear up. Had you cared that much for him too? Or was it all one-sided? Either way, you were positive you didn’t deserve him.

Dom had chosen Hawai’i as his destination. A controversial choice, given the state of tourism at the moment, but it wasn’t like you had much say in the matter. Jisung had confided in you earlier in the trip that he had tried to talk his father out of it but that he couldn’t be swayed.

“We might as well try to make the most of it,” you argued. “It’s like a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, right?”

He shrugged. “I guess.”

The flight from Bali to Hawai’i was over twelve hours long which meant that you had roughly six hours to figure out how to entertain yourself before it was time to trade places. You could try to sleep but that meant leaning on Jisung and you were almost positive the last thing he wanted was for you to touch him right now.

You didn’t feel like paying for the in-flight wi-fi so you had to get creative with how to keep yourself busy. You scrolled through your camera roll for a while but it just made you sad. The pictures from the trip were one thing, but then there were all of the ones of you and Jisung back at school. The further back you went, the happier you seemed. There was no way that was actually true, it was just putting more distance between what had happened in the present from the way things were in the past. That, and you had a tendency to romanticize the past.

“Did you know flight attendants are trained to take oxygen masks from passengers?”

Felix’s voice from beside you pulled you from your spiral of self-pity almost immediately. You turned to look at him and cocked your head in confusion.

“What?”

“Like, you know that whole spiel they give you about safety before the plane takes off? And they’re like ‘during the flight, oxygen masks might drop from overhead’?”

“No, I know all of that. Why would they take the masks from passengers? Do they not have their own?”

“They do, but they might need to move around the cabin when that happens in case of an emergency or something, and if that were to be the case, they’re trained to take masks from passengers to oxygenate themselves. They’ll give it back, but in order to do their jobs they might have to borrow one without asking.”

“What if the passenger passes out?”

“Then they’ll be able to help them! Because they’re fully oxygenated.”

You made a face. “I’m glad you’ve got the aisle seat, then.”

Felix shrugged, grinning. “It sounds fucked up, but it’s just logistical. Wanna know something actually fucked up? These seat belts are practically useless.”

“What?” you weren’t sure if you really wanted to know where he was going with this but your morbid curiosity got the better of you once again. “What do you mean?”

“Well, they help with turbulence and stuff but in the event of a crash, these aren’t going to do shit for us. They’re just here to keep us strapped to the seat so they can identify the corpses by looking at the flight log.”

You sat there in stunned silence as the information Felix had just told you sunk in.

“That is... so dark,” you said finally.

“Yeah, but isn’t it interesting?”

“I guess, but why did you have to tell me all of this while we’re in the air?”

“Because it’s relevant!”

You sighed and glanced back at Jisung who was asleep and slumped against the window. “Ready to switch?”

It was just a joke but Felix scoffed nonetheless.

“I’m offended,” he whispered.

“And I’m traumatized.”

“My bad.”

Somehow, Felix kept you occupied until it was time to switch with Jisung. You lost track of time talking to him about everything and nothing. Out of all of the Han brothers, Felix was the one you knew the least.

You learned a lot about him in the six and a half hours you sat next to each other. You learned that he, like Jisung, had a passion for photography. He liked anime but manga adaptations always disappointed. He wanted to be a dancer when he was little, just like his big brother.

When it was Felix’s turn to inquire about you, you were sort of at a loss for words. You had to tread carefully around how much to actually reveal about yourself. When to lie, when to stretch the truth. You were exhausted. It was exhausting. But Jisung had made it clear that this was still important to him despite you not seeing the point anymore. So you played along for his sake. It was the least you could do since you ruined everything else.

You talked mostly about school, what you were studying, what you wanted to do with your degree... all the small talk that usually took place when you first met a person, not after you’d been traveling with them for over a month. But Felix didn’t know a lot about you interests wise so he listened intently and asked a lot of questions.

When it was finally time to actually switch, you were half-relieved, half-bummed. Talking with Felix was fun but you hated lying to him.

Jisung lifted up the armrest between you and him to let you slide over while he stood awkwardly in the aisle.

“Do you want to use my hoodie as a blanket, baby?” he asked.

“Sure, thanks.”

He laid it over your shoulders after you got settled against the window, kissing you on the head and telling you goodnight.

You shut your eyes and tried to relax but sleep wouldn’t come. You knew it wouldn’t. You took deep breaths in an attempt to slow your heart rate, lowkey considering holding your breath until you passed out.

Next to you, Jisung was flipping through the in-flight movies. You could hear him tapping on the touchscreen, huffing in frustration when he couldn’t find anything he wanted to watch.

“You okay, bro?” Felix asked his twin.

You felt Jisung sort of shift, likely checking to see if you were asleep. He sighed.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Relationship troubles?” Felix guessed.

“Why do you ask?”

“You’ve been pissy for like, the past two days. I assumed it had something to do with your girlfriend.”

“She hasn’t been sleeping well,” he explained simply, lying through his teeth. Well, it wasn’t technically a lie because you weren’t sleeping well, but that had nothing to do with why Jisung was upset. “The exhaustion has been leading to a lot of fights.”

“Sorry, man.”

“It’s okay. It happens. Not that you would know.”

Felix scoffed. “Ouch, I try to have a heart-to-heart with you and you go there?”

“This is a heart-to-heart to you?”

“You know what I mean. A real conversation.”

“Okay, but I’m right. You wouldn’t know.”

“Not all of us can have healthy relationships like you, Jisung,” he sighed.

“I know. I think I’m mom and dad’s only chance at grandchildren at this point.”

“Not if our brother has anything to say about it,” Felix said lowly.

“What do you mean?” Jisung asked.

He sounded genuinely confused but you knew that internally he was panicking because you were too. You were still pretending to be asleep but you had stopped breathing, waiting to hear what he would say next. How much did Felix know? You and Minho weren’t great at sneaking around but you had at least tried to be a little careful.

“You mean you haven’t noticed the way Minho looks at her?”

“Not really? But you spend more time with him. You know him better than I do.”

“Well, you should pay more attention. He makes it kind of obvious,” Minho muttered.

“Makes what kind of obvious, though?”

“That he wants her.”

“What?”

“I can’t believe you haven’t caught on to him flirting with her.”

“Well obviously he’s doing it behind my back so-”

“Sorry you had to find out this way,” Felix said, likely grimacing, “but at least she isn’t reciprocating, from what I’ve seen.”

“Yeah, at least there’s that,” Jisung murmured.

You were able to exhale in relief, but only slightly. Felix didn’t know everything but he could tell Minho was interested which wasn’t a good sign. How long had he been picking up on that?

Your best friend sighed angrily. “The one thing I thought Minho couldn’t take from me-”

You bit the inside of your cheek, guilt consuming you all over again.

“Don’t you think that’s a little dramatic?” Felix asked. “He hasn’t even made a move or anything, mate. I just think he thinks she’s cute.”

“With Minho, that’s enough.”

i'm sick so no tags :(( but i've got nothing else to do so here ya go, lmk what you think I always appreciate feedback!!

add yourself to the taglist here!

#instead of you stray kids #instead of you skz #iou stray kids #iou skz #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #lee know x reader #lee know x female reader #lee know x bi!reader #lee know series #stray kids series #stray kids fanfic #lee know fanfic #lee minho x reader #minho x reader

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lsdunesarchive · 1 year

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Anthony Green of L.S. Dunes on their debut show at Riot Fest 2022 (Chicago, IL) on September 16, 2022 | 📸: Olivia Khiel for Atlas Artist Group

#ls dunes #l.s. dunes #m: anthony green #lsd: 2022 #in: sept/22 #ph: olivia khiel #t: photo #c: riot fest #at: first show #archive[ane]#:’)

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warmglowofsurvival · 7 months

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#twenty one pilots #twentyonepilots #josh dun #joshua dun #2022 #meeting fans #nashville #tennessee #nashville tn #nashville tennessee #bridgestone arena #sept #september #sept 2022 #september 2022 #sept ‘22 #september ‘22 #sept 7 #september 7

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whitehartlane · 2 years

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HARRY KANE (10) & SON HEUNGMIN (7) OF TOTTENHAM HOTSPUR The greatest partnership to ever exist in the world of football. “When you turn, I will be always there.”

BBC Sport / Kane and Son break the all-time record for Premier League goal combinations / The Guardian / Kane-Son trademark celebration during Liverpool 1-1 Tottenham, 07th May 2022 / Kane-Son trademark celebration during Manchester United 1-6 Tottenham, 04th October 2020 / Kane-Son trademark celebration during Aston Villa 0-4 Tottenham, 09th April 2022 / Kane-Son trademark celebration during Tottenham 2-0 West Ham United / Kane on Twitter after assisting Son on 4 goals against Southampton / Tottenham 1-0 Burnley, 26th Oct 2020 / Nice to Mich You, Son Heungmin / Premier League / Kane and Son hug during Manchester City 2-3 Tottenham, 19th Feb 2022 / Kane and Son hug during Tottenham 1-0 Crystal Palace, 20th Sept 2015 / Kane consoles Son during the Carabao Cup final against Manchester City / Kane and Son celebrate during Tottenham 5-2 Southampton, 26th Dec 2017 / Commentator on the Kane and Son partnership / Tottenham 2-0 Arsenal, 06th Dec 2020 / Caption from ‘Heungmin Son and Harry Kane guess their Premier League goal combinations’ / Stray Kids, I am YOU / Kane and Son celebrate during a 6-1 game against Leicester City, 18th May 2017 / Kane and Son celebrate during a 4-0 game against Everton, 13th Jan 2018 / Kane on Twitter / Frank O’Hara, ‘Morning’ / Kane wins the Golden Boot 20/21 / Son wins the Golden Boot 21/22 / Kane assists Son against Southampton / Caption from ‘Heungmin Son and Harry Kane guess their Premier League goal combinations’ / Mitski, Francis Forever / YouTube: Record breakers! Kane & Son react to becoming Premier League’s most deadly duo! / FootballJOE on Twitter, referencing Son’s trademark goal celebration, the ‘camera,’ through which he is looking at Kane / Gang of Youths, ‘Achilles Come Down’ / Kane and Son celebrate their goal against Arsenal / Kane on his relationship and link-ups with Son / Son and Kane on Instagram / Kane and Son after Kane assisted Son on four goals against Southampton / Tottenham 3-2 Ajax, 08th May 2019 / cr. Shaun Botterill, Getty Images / Commentator on the Kane and Son partnership / Tottenham 3-2 Manchester City, 19th Feb 2022 / Caption from ‘Heungmin Son and Harry Kane guess their Premier League goal combinations’

#footballedit #kaneson #tottenham hotspur #harry kane #son heungmin #son heung min #heungmin son #heung min son #tottenham #football #this is my magnum opus i spent an actual insane amount of time on this ... there is something SO deeply wrong with me.#i feel like this isn't enough to encompass the love they have for each other there needs to be MORE ... but i tried my best #in the end do you ever think about how they both grew up on different sides of the world with nothing binding them apart from a shared #desire to play football and to be the best at it. and how more than 2 decades later they found each other in london and became part of each #other's stories. because that's the crux of it isn't it? there will be no book written about one of them without mentioning the other.#they've become so intertwined over the years you can't tell where one starts and the other ends.#the amount of respect and admiration that they hold for each other is actually insane. like sonny talking about how harry is the best #striker in the world and - not pictured here - how he believed he could win the golden boot at the world cup last year which uh.#that was never going to happen but it's the FAITH. the unwavering relentless FAITH!!! that he has in him :(((#or the DIFFERENT way harry loves sonny oh i could pen tomes about it really but the point is that he opens up around him and he sheds that #stoic and untouchable persona and actually laughs and giggles and smiles in interviews with him and never doubts him. ever.#i couldn't fit in 'never in doubt' here but NEVER IN DOUBT!!!#'when you turn i will be always there.' how goddamn romantic is that then.#the thing is that they were born to be together. they were meant to play with each other.#there will never be another duo like them.#rahul.gif

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otonymous · 2 years

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Caught Between a Wall and a Hard Dick (Grayson) (DC Nightwing - NSFW) - Kinktober 2022

Description:

(First posted on Pa*t*reon (pls see link in pinned post)! - early access Sept 25/22)

Kinktober 2022 Prompt #1: STUCK IN A WALL (aka kabeshiri - yeah, I had to look this one up LOL)

Warnings: NSFW/18+: Explicit/graphic language and mature themes - reader discretion is advised. Potential trigger warnings include: outdoor sex (in a sense lol), being stuck in a wall/"glory hole" type situation, some bits faintly wavering towards dub-con, mentions of masturbation, brief mention of edging

Word Count: ~3700 words (I promised myself I would keep these to 1500 words max. Didn't happen. Story of my life 😂)

Author's Note:

Hello lovelies!

Hope October is treating you well so far! 💕 Since we are dealing with more mature topics (Kinktober being the name of the game and all 🤣), please check out the warnings listed above! That being said, please know that this fic is absolutely ridiculous, and I laughed myself silly writing it. All in all, a good time was had. I hope you will have fun reading this one, my friends!

-XOXO, Otonny 🥰💕

PS: Please suspend your disbelief and just imagine for one hot second that triple woven kevlar can be ripped by the bare hands of one super horny superhero. Thanks! 🤩🤣

“Okay, on the count of three. One, two, three!“

“Ow…ow! Ouch! Stop! Nightwing, stop!”

“This isn’t working. Thank god Batman isn’t here to see this.”

“This wouldn’t have happened if Batman were here in the first place. He’d use the door, like a relatively normal person would, not try to show off by somersaulting through a hole in the wall. Stop laughing, Dick!“

“All right, I’m sorry,” Nightwing wheezes in between peals of laughter, broad shoulders shaking as he tries to catch his breath. “To be fair, no one told you to follow me through the hole. Also, ‘Batman’ and ‘normal’ have no business being in the same sentence together.”

“I thought I could make it. Clearly, I was wrong. Damn these birthing hips!”

You struggle some more, kevlar gloves gripping onto brick for purchase as you attempt to push, pull, do anything to free the lower half of your body from the wall it was currently stuck in, your ego now thoroughly bruised in light of your previous declaration that you could do anything Nightwing was capable of doing.

So when tonight’s training consisted of you keeping up with him as he raced across the rooftops of Blüdhaven, you followed close behind, fighting to keep your breath even and steady as you ran, swung, flipped and jumped, doing so well at keeping pace that even you were surprised until Nightwing jumped — no, glided — through a hole in a wall on the rooftop of an apartment building, his form so perfect, he made it look like child’s play, so easy that anyone could do it…

…or so you thought until you got stuck, reality hitting hard in the form of a vice-like squeeze about your hips by brick and cement that refused to budge.

And now, your ass was literally an easy target, vulnerable and exposed to the dark night beyond while the upper half of your body fumed at one costumed Dick Grayson, still snickering in the stairwell of the decrepit apartment complex.

“Okay, so I need a bit more training before I can come out patrolling with you. I get it. But can you please stop laughing and help pull me out before someone comes?! I don’t want to have to fabricate some weird sex fetish to explain why I’m wearing a mask and cape.”

“All right, just relax. I’m moving. Guess I’ll have to use the door this time.”

Dick draws out of sight and then you hear a click and thud, the heavy steel door echoing down the stairwell though Nightwing had done his best to let it close softly behind him.

You can sense his approach: the faint vibrations of his footsteps on the tarmac, the quiet rustle of limbs heard so faintly through cracks in the wall one might have missed it if one hadn’t been trained to listen.

You imagine Dick, his blue eyes behind the mask trained intently on your ass and you cannot keep a sudden rush of heat from rising to the surface of your skin, cheeks burning in a way you wanted to think had absolutely nothing to do with how close he was likely standing to you now, the sharp V of his hips level with your jutting rear end, scratching his chin as he contemplated how best to free you short of blowing up the wall and waking up everyone in a three-mile radius.

“Hey Nightwing, everything okay out there?”

You try to keep your voice as low as possible, but cringe at the way it still echoed in that stairwell, the acoustics absolutely perfect for a Black Canary performance.

“Ahem, uh, yeah. Just, uh, trying to figure out the best way to…dislodge you.”

“Not to seem ungrateful or demanding, but could you please hurry it up? Believe it or not, this position’s not exactly comfortable.”

And it was true. Just not necessarily in the way it would seem.

It wasn’t so much the physical strain of being bent over and stuck that presented a problem; Dick had trained you well enough in the gym and out in the field that maintaining this position for an extended period of time wasn’t an issue. Rather, it was the thought that his undivided attention was now focused on your ass; that he would have to put hands on your hips and thighs in order to free you from your prison. Even thinking about this set your nerves on edge, reminding you of the time Dick had accidentally touched your breast in the midst of practicing an aerial maneuver.

At that time, he gave no indication he had even noticed what had happened, occupied as he was on making sure he caught you before you had the chance to fall to your death on a pile of overflowing trash bins sixteen stories below.

But you, you had burned red beneath your mask, thanking god all the while for the fact that it was too dark for him to really see your face.

Although, you suppose he could with those infrared cameras he had built into his mask…

Never mind.

You weren’t going to think about that. And you definitely weren’t going to ruminate on the excitement you felt to have his hand on your breast. Or how large and manly they looked whenever he peeled his gloves off at the end of a long night of patrolling, right before reaching into the cupboard for a box of sugary kid’s cereal as a snack before collapsing into bed.

No, you were determined not to think of those twilight hours spent lying awake in the room next to his, wondering if Dick could somehow sense your heart pounding through paint and drywall as your fingers traipsed beneath the waistband of your pyjama bottoms to pretend your hand was his, rubbing insistent circles over the wetness that would inevitably pool between your legs every time you thought of him:

Dick Grayson. Nightwing. Your mentor and partner in the fight against crime.

NO.

Now is neither the time nor place, you scold yourself, steering your thoughts towards the more pressing matter of why you could no longer hear him on the other side of the wall.

“Um, Nightwing, is everything okay? Are you all right?!” you ask, panic starting to set in to think that somehow, unbeknownst to you and the upper half of your body, trouble had come calling for your partner and booty.

Though presumably, you would’ve heard something. The wall did have a hole large enough for a person to slip through (albeit not one with hips that Shakira would’ve been proud of). And Nightwing was more than capable of taking care of himself in any situation. So what, then, was the cause of the radio silence? The fact that you could no longer sense any movement behind you?

“You’ve torn your suit.”

“What?!”

Voice catching in your throat, your strangled reply echoes like a ghoul in the night. It wasn’t so much your outfit that you were concerned about — that triple woven kevlar could somehow rip without your knowledge. What you did find concerning however, was the way Nightwing was now behaving: strangely out-of-character.

“Right…” he continues, voice barely audible on the other side of the wall. “…here.”

GASP!

You clap a hand over your mouth, attempting to muffle the sound that escaped the moment you felt his touch: one long finger running along the seam that joined your skintight suit down the middle, sliding down the small of your back and over the curved crevice of your backside to close in on the heat between your legs.

You start to sweat, temperature suddenly spiking in reaction to the weird turn of events — as if the night could get any more bizarre. Holding your breath, you wait for Dick to crack a joke; say something lighthearted to ease the tension like he could always be counted on to do. Except this time, he doesn’t. This time, he says:

“This is dangerous. Your suit is compromised. We need to fix this. Immediately.”

Different. Darker. Dick’s voice is even lower now in both tone and volume, so much so that you have to strain your ears to hear him. The measure of his words is slow and sure, and it makes you twitch, hips shifting in an animal inclination to wiggle your ass in order to please him.

“Wh-what do you suppose we do?” you ask, palms planting on your side of the brick wall so as to exaggerate the curve of your back.

In your mind’s eye, you imagine Dick’s breath catching — much the same way it did that time he accidentally caught you running naked from the shower to your bedroom because it was laundry day and you had forgotten to replace the towels in the bathroom you shared as roommates.

For a moment, he had stood frozen: mouth open and blue eyes fixed to your bare breasts, the creamsicles he had left the apartment a few minutes ago to procure for the two of you dripping down both hands. And then, he had abruptly turned his back to you, muttering something about chasing down ice cream trucks that didn’t want to stop.

But you had caught it: the desire in his eyes.

Undeniable, like the flush creeping up his cheeks or the tent in his jeans before he spewed “Sorry-i-didn’t-see-anything” and ducked into his room, pulling the door closed behind him with his foot because he was still holding on to two melting lumps of citrus-flavoured ice cream.

It was the elephant in the room. The big, unspoken cloud that constantly hung over the two of you when you weren’t preoccupied with discussing training plans or the moves of petty criminals and supervillains, a topic neither dared to broach because it would make things way too messy, too complicated…

…too good to be true?

Was it really too good to be true? And if so, how good? you can’t help thinking, having left the ball in Dick’s court and waiting with bated breath for his next move.

“I think there’s only one thing to do to get you out of this sticky situation.”

More rustling of limbs behind you. Perhaps your partner moving in close, kneeling to get a better look at what he was dealing with. Which could only mean one thing:

Dick’s face was now in your ass.

He touches you and you jolt, feeling the slip of his finger through the rip in your suit, right at the junction of your thighs. You wonder if Dick could feel it — the soaked gusset of your panties. But the suspense lasts for all of a second before he mutters,

“God, you’re wet,”

and adds a second finger to the first, Nightwing gripping onto your suit to tear it down the middle in one swift motion, exposing your flimsy panties to the night.

Throb.

Legs growing weak, you lose your balance for a moment, falling into the brick at the waist. Your clit pulses at what had just transpired, ushering in a new wave of wetness that threatens to spill down your thighs.

“There. Now that part of your suit has been removed, try squeezing through the hole on your side.”

It was bullshit and you knew it. The suit was thin to begin with; shaving off a few millimetres wasn’t going to do much. But you obey regardless, moving your hips from side to side in a manner so suggestive you felt your nipples harden to think of the effect it must’ve been having on Dick.

“Like this?”

Laying it on thick, you feign innocence in an attempt to see how far the charade would take you.

“Yeah, just like that. But it’s not good enough. I think we ought to get rid of this too.”

And just like that, your panties fall away with another unceremonious rip.

“There. Spread your legs. Wider. Yes, like that. Try moving now.”

It was insanity.

How his instructions aroused you so, even with Dick’s voice muffled and muted behind a brick wall. You couldn’t see him, and he had barely even touched you aside from doing what he needed to do to tear off your panties and the bottom half of your suit. And yet, he had you on edge, every shake and tremble of your body foreshadowing a climax so intense it threatened to make you scream so loudly it would wake everyone in the building.

The evening air blew cool across your skin, a contrast with the wet heat radiating out from between your legs, obediently spread for your mentor’s inspection; a crude reminder that you had an audience.

So you put on a show, exaggerating the arch of your back as you walk your hands further down towards the base of the wall, playing up the angle of your ass in an attempt to beckon, to entice…

…to prod Dick into crossing the tension-filled line the two of you had been toeing for months now.

“It’s still not working. I think I need a push. A thrust from behind.“

There. The final nail in the coffin.

All Nightwing needed to move.

You can hear it, sense it; the flurry of activity as a half-step brings him towards you: the cool sensation of Dick’s dark suit as he pressed his hips into your bare skin, the familiar sound of a glove slipping off before his palm is resting on the small of your back, a shudder of breath rising from the cavity of his chest, escaping in a soft hiss the moment he feels the touch of you, skin to skin.

He really was so obvious.

“Are you sure about this? I-I can always try the explosives, if you want—“

And a gentleman through and through.

“Just fuck me, Dick Grayson.”

Another intake of breath, sharp this time, and Nightwing’s moan transforms into a growl, low and guttural. You bite down hard onto your lower lip, doing your best not to draw blood though it was imperative that you did not scream. But the feeling of Dick’s lips on your body — tracing kisses in arcs that rounded the flesh of your ass before traversing the sensitive skin of your inner thighs — made it difficult not to, especially when they grew in urgency, his tongue extending to lap the length of your slit, the heat of his breath combining with an appreciative hum that you felt more than heard, thrumming through your core.

“Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmy—“

You barely recognized the sound of your own voice: pitched high and growing in desperation by the second in a way you knew would make you cringe later on to remember when you were dressed more casually in a t-shirt and jeans. Because there was no way you’d ever forget the way this felt: Dick’s tongue laving slow before flicking fast across your swollen clit, the man’s mouth on your pussy nothing less than pure magic in the way he brought you just to the edge of orgasm before backing off, teasing you in this way over and over again.

They said he was a pretty boy with a face too handsome to shoot, a man who had no trouble scoring even after having made some bad life decisions, like wearing green pixie boots, or even sporting a mullet. It didn’t hurt either that he could easily count his rear end among his best “ass”-ets: pert and ample and shapely enough to fill out his suit like nobody’s business. But it was only now that you were realizing that when it came to Nightwing, looks were only a tiny part of the equation.

Because the way he worked you over was almost criminal — sinful with how good it felt to be at his complete mercy that you were actually thankful to have gotten stuck. Having sat himself between the wall and your thighs, Dick ate you out with gusto, his fingers busy kneading the flesh of your ass when they weren’t sliding into your pussy, taking turns in competing with his tongue to see which could elicit the most salacious moans from your lips.

“Better keep it quiet over there. Don’t wanna wake the neighbours.”

The smirk is obvious in the voice of the hypocrite who shamelessly chose to ignore the wet sounds he himself was producing with his head between your legs, Dick lapping with abandon as his fingers gripped onto your hips, encouraging you to rest more of your weight onto that handsome face.

Your breasts ache within the confines of your suit, sorely missing the action on the other side of the wall. In desperation, you touch yourself, trying in vain to feel pinches and caresses through material that just refused to give. Frustration mounting, you accidentally let out a petulant whine — much to your horror.

Whining was never your thing.

But then again, neither was having sex through a hole in a wall.

“Baby, if you wanted more, just ask.”

Baby? BABY?! Did having midnight sex on a rooftop in the heart of Blüdhaven mean that you and Dick were at the point where terms of endearment were allowed? Also, how was it possible that the word sounded a million times sexier coming from his mouth?!

Dick pulls away and there is more shuffling, more movement. You imagine him pulling down the bottom half of his suit until it sits below the diamond-cut V of his hips, the sleek black second-skin hugging the rounded curves of his perfect glutes. You imagine his tights bunched around the bulky musculature of his thighs, the same ones you covertly juiced over every time it was leg day at the gym.

You had always wondered whether he wore underwear beneath that unforgiving suit, and if so, how it was even possible for him to hide those lines. For now, however, you were content with settling for the image of Dick Grayson pulling out his, well, dick, and slowly stroking from base to tip and back again, a smile on his lips as he contemplated the messy smear of your wet pussy, spread wide and waiting beneath the hazy glow of the city’s ambient light.

“You ready for your second lesson of the night?” he asks.

“Second lesson? What was the first?”

“Not to jump through holes in walls unless you’re absolutely sure you can make it.”

You’re so lucky I’m horny as fuck right now, you grit your teeth. “Right, of course, Professor Nightwing. And what’s the second lesson?”

“I’m gonna teach you how to be quiet in any situation. Now get ready for a pop quiz.”

THRUST!

Gasp!

You almost choke on it; the air that catches in your throat the moment Dick enters you fully with a single thrust of his powerful hips. You can feel him, the base of his cock flush against your body, your walls pulsing in reaction to the sudden intrusion of his length, his hardness, his girth, Dick’s fingers spreading your cheeks wider as he attempted to bury himself even further.

“Keep quiet now. Not a peep, understood? Or else it’ll be an F for you. And I know you don’t like to fail. Isn’t that right, teacher’s pet? Yes, that’s what I thought. Such a good kitty.”

Dick reaches down as he says this, hand between your legs; petting and teasing as his fingers skirt over your clit in an attempt to see how wet you could get, how tightly your walls could squeeze around him.

He settles index and thumb in a crescent about the circumference of his cock as he picks up speed, savouring the feel of your delicate skin stretched thin and wide around his body, every stroke dislodging more and more of your mutual arousal, the creamy evidence eliciting a guttural moan from the man that you considered entirely unfair when you were forced to keep quiet in a stairwell that possessed the acoustics of an opera house.

“This feels incredible. You are incredible,” Nightwing sighs, stopping to pull back for a moment, as if to admire the sight of your pussy trembling from his administrations, right before diving back in with renewed speed and vigour to make you clench both hands into fists, biting your lower lip until it was blanched of blood. “God, I could fuck you all night. All day too, for that matter.”

Dick Grayson had always been chatty. Apparently, sex was no exception. It made you blush; every sweet, filthy word falling from his lips adding so much to the lasciviousness of the situation that you weren’t sure which turned you on more: the way his cock managed to hit just the right angle at just the right time, or the way he played with your mind, his verbal calisthenics every bit a match for his physical prowess.

And though you did your best to stay quiet on your side of the wall, the lower half of your body was a different matter — arousal made obvious to your partner with every slick slide of his cock in and out of your body, the wet sounds of your copious juices dripping down to smear the insides of your thighs and across the hard, muscular plane of Dick’s groin.

Nightwing was right. It felt incredible. Even when stuck in a wall, he could’ve fucked you all day and night and you’d still want more, eager and willing to take him deeply into yourself, to have Dick do whatever he wanted with you. Because you trusted him like you trusted no other:

You trusted him with your life.

And perhaps it is this very thought that sends you, makes you feel free to let go; stepping off the ledge of control to let the most intense orgasm of your life take you.

Dick fucks through it: pushing through the clenching pulse of your walls around him, your pussy milking his cock as he neared his own completion.

But not before he gives you one hard, final thrust from behind.

Because Nightwing — always dutiful, always resourceful — would never leave his partner hanging, stuck in a brick wall with her bare ass exposed.

And right before you pass out from the arrival of a second orgasm coming fast on the tail end of the first, you feel it:

Your hips finally sliding through the hole…

…and your head meeting the ground.

And one Dick Grayson muttering:

“Oh shit.”

Ahahahaha!! Hope y'all enjoyed that ending! 🤣 Thank you so much for reading till the very end! Much love to each and every one of you! For more juicy reads, please check out my P*a*t*reon page (please see link in pinned post)!

👀👉🏼 Feel free to peep the Masterpost here!

-XOXO, Otonny 💖🥰

(Illustration taken from Nightwing Cover #88 by Bruno Redondo)

#nightwing #dick grayson #nightwing smut #nightwing fic #dick grayson smut #dick grayson fic #batfam #batfam fic #dc universe #dc comics #dc #my writing #kinktober 2022 #dc smut

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dressupdragonne · 2 months

Text

Events From 2022 that have NOT had a Single Rerun

Single SSR:

💕 Demon's Portrait: Lilith • Devil's Whisper

NOV 14 - 22, 2021

💕 Planet Wanderlust (iPanda): Momo • Cutee Planet Wanderlust

(even though it's a collab technically, it has reran on the TW server)

APRIL 13 - 18, 2022

💕 Reedpipes of Old: Aphrodia • Reedpipe Song

APRIL 23 - 29, 2022

💕 Reverie Carnival: Loen • Clown's Welcome

JUN 15 - 21, 2022

💕 Wave Invasion: Caprico • Euphonius Night

JUN 25 - JULY 1, 2022

• FUN FACT -> this event has not rerun on any server including the TW server

💕 Ocean of Storms: Loen • Glint in the Night

SEPT 12 - 18, 2022

💕 Sprouting Confession: Ai • Sprouting Love

OCT 18 - 24, 2022

💕 Secrets of Star Sand: Priestess Tess • Starry Sands

NOV 10 - 16, 2022

Double UR:

💕 Queen's Christmas Ball: Erika • Pure White Tranquility (UR pavilion), Erinka • Passionate Lantern Feast (UR pavilion), Momo • Snowy Deer Jingle (SSR recharge), William • Christmas Academy (SR welfare)

(I ran out of space for pics for the other suits in this event, just trust me lol)

DEC 22, 2022 - JAN 1, 2023

My Opinions:

They could be sprinkling all these Single SSRs all over the place and totally catch us up on reruns. In fact it would make way more sense as it would force new players or people who didn't finish into a bind of spending or skipping. I just literally don't understand from a business standpoint why they'd just NOT rerun them. This ain't even a 2 reruns waiting for the special return pavilion situation. They haven't even gotten that far. Anyway it's frustrating me because I'm missing pieces from 5/8 of the singles from that year and I want to finish them 🙃 I'm so close on most of them.

Source: atsukii's GitHub (won't let me link in post I will drop link in replies)

EDIT: Removed Reminiscence of Flower and replaced with Devil's Whisper. Apologies, my source was not up to date. (And I sorted by pavilion and I guess devils whisper didn't count as pavilion since it was tiered rewards).

#shining nikki #dress up #my compulsive list making strikes again #I technically have a larger list of every event that's hasn't had a second rerun in chronological order #but some of them it hasn't even been a year yet so I'll let it slide #also I usually do these list for Reddit but since the Reddit doesn't allow #'negative discussion' anymore #they probably don't want this there lol #can't see the comment section not getting just a little bit negative #btw we have 15 single ssrs from '22 and '23 that haven't reran at all #feels bad

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insanitysilver · 9 months

Text

So you have this author.

He has a bunch of projects, sure. Starts his own indie publisher in spring 2017 to start getting them out there. Cool. Good hustle. The problem? One of his projects is the start of a seven-book LOTR fan fiction sequel series.

Fall 2017 - He writes the Tolkien estate asking for rights to publish it. His letters go unanswered. (The Tolkien estate is notoriously litigious and close-fisted with rights.) Undeterred, he keeps plugging along.

April 22, 2019 - He interviews his first beta reader on his indie pub's social media to drum up excitement.

Nov 7, 2019 - He gets a lawyer to ask the Estate for the rights more formally. They say no.

Nov 13, 2019 - The Tolkien estate and Amazon close their $250 mil rights deal on Amazon's upcoming LOTR prequel tv series.

Dec 24, 2019 - Author shows up at Tolkien's grandson's house on christmas eve, and "delivered [his 180k-word manuscript] in-person", including a letter with this line:

"I truly cannot imagine, anyone else alive in the world who is capable of taking the foundation your grandfather wrote and expanding upon it as beautifully and imaginatively as I have." That's a pretty big swing buddy!

Tolkien's grandson mails the manuscript back.

So, he publishes his book anyways.

Sept. 1, 2022 - His book hits the major digital storefronts Sept. 1, 2022. Amazon's LOTR prequel tv series? Also releases Sept. 1, 2022.

He sees some similarities. So what does he do?

April 14, 2023 - He sues the Tolkien estate, the Tolkien trust, Tolkien's grandson, Amazon, and Jeff Bezos himself for $250 million.

Aug 25, 2023 - Having failed to prove the similarities between the tv show and his book, he loses the first case. (The proposed similarities seem tenuous to me too, but judge for yourself.) He can't sell Tolkien fic ever again. And he has to destroy all the physical copies of his book. And he has to pay their attorney fees. About $134,000.

Dec 14, 2023 - Also failing to prove his work was transformative enough, he loses the second case.

Now, I'm not going to shill for Amazon. US copyright extends 70 years past the death of the creator. That seems to serve corporate interests more than then public imo. If it were up to me, it'd be death + 30 & LOTR would've been public domain in 2003. Author guy could've followed his bliss, and clowning on him now really only serves Amazon's agenda.

But! The lesson here is: while the laws are what they are, if you're going to write fanfiction... literally do anything else but that.

Sources: 'The Tolkien Estate & Amazon Win ‘Lord Of The Rings’ Lawsuits' by Max Goldbart for Deadline.com Opening Complaint, Author v. Bezos Opening Complaint, Author v. Bezos, Attachment #2 Tolkien Trust v. Author, Judgement

#not gonna drop his name or book title bc he's suffered enough #fanfiction #fanfic #lotr #tolkien #rings of power

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zvaigzdelasas · 1 year

Text

While most Ukrainians battled against Germany during the war, it’s well known that the western region of the country collaborated with the Third Reich — and that thousands of those involved were allowed to resettle in Canada. [...]

When Anthony Rota, [...] introduced Hunka during Zelenskyy’s Sept. 22 visit, he called him a “veteran from the Second World War who fought for Ukrainian independence against the Russians and continues to support the troops today.”

And Hunka made the argument himself after Russia invaded his homeland last year. “In the last war, I joined the Ukrainian underground to fight Russia, so I was fighting the same people they’re fighting now,” he told a reporter covering a peace vigil in North Bay, Ontario, in March 2022. “Nothing has changed there. The same enemy. First Stalin was there and now this idiot,” he said, referring to Russian President Vladimir Putin. [...]

In a post for the SS Galichina veterans’ blog Combatant News, Hunka wrote that 1941 to 1943 — after Germany invaded Ukraine and before Hunka enlisted — were the happiest years of his life. He also recalled eagerly awaiting “the legendary German knights” to come and attack “the hated Poles,” using a slur for Polish people, in 1939.

Captioned photos from the blog show Hunka during SS artillery training in Munich in December 1943 and in Poland around the time of a visit by Nazi mastermind Heinrich Himmler. “I know that if I ordered you to liquidate the Poles … I would be giving you permission to do what you are eager to do anyway,” Himmler said during that visit, according to several historical accounts. Now, the Polish minister of education is looking into whether Hunka can be extradited and prosecuted for what happened during the war.[...]

[After the war,] Hunka made his living in the aircraft industry, working his way up to inspector at DeHavilland Aircraft in Toronto. After retirement, he visited Ukraine nearly every year, according to a profile of him in a University of Alberta newsletter announcing the donation made in his honor by his sons. The profile said he also served as president of the parish council of St. Volodymyr Ukrainian Catholic Church in Thornhill, Ontario.[...]

In his mea culpa, Rota made it sound like Hunka was a constituent from his district [...] whom he did not know much about. “This initiative was entirely my own,“ Rota said[...]

But Rejean Venne, an independent Canadian journalist, wrote in his Substack newsletter this week that Rota and Hunka family members have had numerous chances to cross paths over the years. Among Venne’s examples:

- One of Hunka’s sons, Martin, was chief financial officer of Redpath Mining, a multinational corporation headquartered in Rota’s district. Redpath has contributed to Rota’s campaigns and Rota has provided government funding for recreational facilities operated by Redpath. (The company did not respond to inquiries from the Forward made Thursday.)

- Martin Hunka has also served as chair of the board of trustees for North Bay Hospital, which is located in Rota’s district and which Rota has supported. Hunka’s name can no longer be found on the hospital’s website and social media posts. (The hospital did not respond to a request for comment emailed Thursday.)

- North Bay Pride, an LGBTQ+ organization, gave an award to Rota nine months after Yaroslav’s granddaughter Leshya Lecappelain joined its board of directors. In 2022 and 2023, North Bay Pride received more than $100,000 in funding from Rota. (Asked about this, a spokesperson for North Bay Pride said Lecappelain had not been on its board for several years.)

“Rota’s response that this was a last-minute request doesn’t add up,” Venne said in an email interview. “The Hunka family appears well connected in Rota’s district.”

The Forward could not determine whether Hunka and Rota met before he was honored at Parliament. Rota and others at the House of Commons did not respond to several requests for comment sent Wednesday and Thursday. Efforts to reach Yaroslav, Martin and Peter Hunka, Lecappelain and other members of the family for comment were also unsuccessful.[...]

On Wednesday, the University of Alberta said it would return the CA$30,000 endowment that Hunka’s sons donated in 2019 in their father’s honor. The money was intended to fund research at the school’s Canadian Institute for Ukrainian Studies. But Per Anders Rudling, a university alumnus and expert on Ukrainian nationalism who teaches at Sweden’s Lund University, said the Hunka fund is just “the top of an iceberg.” In an email to the Forward, Rudling said the University of Alberta has “much larger endowments” honoring other figures connected to the Waffen SS unit. The “most problematic,” he said, is the Volodymyr and Daria Kubijovych Memorial Endowment Fund [Editors note: archive link - also "matched two-to-one by the Government of Alberta"] At CA$450,000 — about $334,000 — it’s 15 times larger than the Hunka fund the university is returning.[...] In a Facebook post Thursday, Rudling also questioned university endowments named for other Galichina Division veterans, including Roman Kolisnyk, Levko Babij and Edward Brodacky. Pointing to research he published in The Journal of Slavic Military Studies [Editors note: 1, 2], Rudling said, “I have tried to raise this issue in the past, to no avail.”

Asked about Rudling’s concerns, Michael Brown, a spokesperson for the University of Alberta, reiterated a statement in which interim provost Verna Yiu said the school is “reviewing its general naming policies and procedures, including those for endowments, to ensure alignment with our values.” Yiu also expressed the school’s “commitment to address anti-Semitism in any of its manifestations, including the ways in which the Holocaust continues to resonate in the present.” The honors given to SS Galichina fighters extend beyond academia. One of the University of Alberta’s endowments is for its former chancellor Peter Savaryn, another SS Galichina member. In 1987, Savaryn was awarded the Order of Canada, among the nation’s highest honors, bestowed by Canada’s governor general, the representative of the British Crown. Mary Simon, the current governor general, has condemned the Hunka scandal as “a shock and an embarrassment.”[...]

When the Hunka endowment was announced in 2020, the university said it would fund research on two “leaders of the underground Ukrainian Catholic Church,” Cardinal Josyf Slipyj and Metropolitan Andrei Sheptytsky. (A metropolitan is akin to a bishop.) Slipyi was a deputy in Ukraine’s 1941 self-proclaimed government, which pledged to work closely with Germany under Hitler’s leadership. Slipyi also assigned chaplains to SS Galichina and celebrated the unit’s inaugural Mass. After the war, the Soviets sent him to gulag prison camps. But Sheptytsky’s legacy is layered [sic]. He helped “dozens of Jews find refuge in his monasteries and even in his own home,” according to Yad Vashem, while also supporting “the German army as the savior of the Ukrainians from the Soviets.”

Harvard University also houses a Ukrainian Research Institute. Asked, after Alberta’s announcement, whether that institute’s funding would be scrutinized for Nazi ties, the university said in a statement that the institute had never received money from the Hunkas, nor had it received donations designated for research related to SS Galichina. Harvard did, however, in 1974 establish a fellowship and faculty position in European studies with money from a foundation named for Alfred Krupp, who was convicted of war crimes for using slave laborers from Auschwitz to build and work in a factory.[...]

In Canada, questions about the Ukrainian immigrants’ past dogged them for decades, and in 1985, the country launched a Commission of Inquiry on War Criminals, known as the Deschênes Commission. Investigators were mostly limited to considering evidence gathered in Canada, and ultimately they came to the controversial conclusion that the Galichina Division “should not be indicted as a group” and that “mere membership” in the division was insufficient to justify prosecution or revoke citizenship.

This week, as Trudeau apologized for the Hunka salute, B’nai Brith Canada called for the full release of the commission’s report, which had been heavily redacted, along with other Holocaust-era records, in order to “restore public trust in our institutions.” “Canadians deserve to know the full extent to which Nazi war criminals were permitted to settle in this country after the war,” the group said Tuesday[...]

Why would Hunka’s family risk his humiliation, at age 98, by putting him under a spotlight? Did they not realize how his military record would be perceived and portrayed? “It’s arrogance. It’s not naiveté,” said Jack Porter, a research associate at Harvard’s Davis Center for Russian and Eurasian Studies and himself a Jewish child survivor of the Holocaust, born in Ukraine. “They know what their father did,” he said. “It’s hubris, it’s chutzpah. They rationalize that these men were fighting communism. If a few Jews were killed, they also were communists.”[...]

More than 2.5 million Ukrainians died fighting against Germany. “There were many good Ukrainians; they should not all be stigmatized,” he said.

But he said veterans who fought under the Nazis like Hunka and his compatriots have been emboldened by the whitewashing of their history, especially since Russia’s invasion of Ukraine last year. “They’ve been hiding in plain sight,” he said. “They’ve been there for 60 years and nobody has touched them, so of course they feel OK.”

29 Sep 23

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