#that's what id do probably - kind but not too involved as not to give any false hope

[earanie]

so.

[arolesbianism]

Every now and then I remember that oni in fact will eventually have more lore added and I get so excited and scared for a moment and then I remember that it could take months until we see any of that and I proceed to forget abt it again and the cycle repeats

[arriansarchive]

Harry potter being an absolute brat (while trying to be subtle in front of your friends) but you can see through his act, so you need to put him in his place... maybe with degradation and edging involved. I love your writing btw :)

Sub!Brat!Harry Potter/Dom!Male!Reader

THANK YOU YOUR AMAZING

I hope my take on this is suitable because I really love the prompt

You didn't specify gender, so I made reader a guy

More eighth year shenanigans

Words: 1389

Reader I guess is a Gryffindor in this? It could be seen as any id think

Please if anybody else actually sees this; I'm begging you to request. I love peoples requests. I need to fulfill my duties

I got my amazing friend's help on this with deciding some things, so he is now a part of Arrian inc. (bad joke yes)

And anon I'm sorry but this might not seem like Harry's being subtle or anything I just didn't know how to incorporate that

I might've bent your request a little. I'm really sorry, but it turned out in an orgasm denial after edging

Okay okay ur great anon thank you sm

Oh also I've upgraded and I said cock one time in this story. Be proud of me

Summary: It is up above this for the basic rundown

The big halls of Hogwarts seemed more empty than usual as you walked down with Ron, Harry, Hermione, and Neville.

You all were talking about the new Herbology assignment. All of you meaning Hermione, Neville and you with Harry putting in a snide comment to you ever once in a while.

To any other person it might seem like he was in a bad mood or didn't want to do the assignment, but you knew it was something different.

"Y/N, what plant are you going to do your project on?" Hermione asked.

Harry decided to snicker and say, "He's probably just going to cheat off of you again."

You looked at him with a puzzled expression. You had never cheated off of Hermione, and she knew that well. You were a top student too after all.

This comment just made curiosity as well as a little anger spark in the bottom of your stomach. You wondered why he was acting like this.

You had known Harry since first year, and he admitted he was in love with you in your fifth year. Neither of you have told anybody yet, though. You pushed it off as just waiting for the right time, but now your not so sure.

"Harry, what are you talking about? He's never cheated off of me, and I know that because he doesn't need to." She cocked an eyebrow at him.

"He's just the type."

You decided you've had your fill of Harry's nonsense and tried to confront him. "What's your deal? I'm right here."

Harry just looked at you out of the corner of his eye with an evil, sinister smirk present on his face.

Neville apparently started to feel the awkward tension and stuttered his goodbye before going into the library, Hermione following. Ron made an excuse that he was heading to the cafeteria for more pumpkin juice made by the elves and split as well.

"Now it's only you and me, so you can tell me now." You opened a door into the abandoned boys bathrooms, ducked in, and locked the door.

He looked at you with venom in his eyes, but there was also something you couldn't place. His expression looked uncomfortable.

"I don't have anything to tell you." He spat.

You finally felt your patience give out, and you shot forward and pinned him to the back of the empty wall. It was kind of disgusting in that bathroom, but it would have to do.

"I'm getting sick of this bratty ass behavior. Can you just tell me already?" You leaned into his ear, so he could hear your lustful whispers.

He chuckled that ended in a small whine whenever you reached your hand down into his black pants and pulled his waistband to snap back onto the flushed skin.

"Is this really what you wanted that entire time?" You sneered, scoffing whenever he nodded. "You really can't keep it in your pants for a walk to our dorms?"

"It seems not." Harry shrugged under your intense grip.

"Don't sass me, whore." You hissed.

He bit his lip harshly and tried to snake one of his hands under your belt and into your uniform, but you swatted it away.

"What the hell?" Harry's eyebrows furrowed.

You stared at him intensely. "Get your cock out if I have to do this."

"Make me."

You pretended to ponder over this for a moment before diving in and biting him hard on the neck. You like to think vampires aren't real, but if they were you definitely have some genes in you.

He groaned out and struggled to get one of his hands free. You realized he was reaching for his wand, so you let one of his hands go.

Harry gripped his wand with shaking fingers. "Silencio!" He called out, his voice trembling.

You heavily doubted that anybody would hear or try to come into the lonesome bathroom, but you were glad that he actually thought about it since you didn't.

You took the wand roughly out of Harry's hand and threw it down on the sink beside him.

"Now take it out or else I'll leave you here like this. I would've been much nicer if you had just waited" You said angrily.

He obliged this time and pulled his pants and boxers down to his thighs. He winced at the cold and clammy bathroom air hitting him.

You grabbed a hold on him and stroked up and down quickly. You swore you saw Harry's eyes roll back into his head.

"Fuck, Y/N." He muttered.

He twitched in your hand a few times, beads of pre-cum leaking onto your hand slowly. You raised your hand in front of his face and with your other you forced his mouth open and shoved your wet fingers in. He whined through at the loss of friction.

He gagged around your fingers a few times before you took your hand out, a string of saliva threading yourselves together.

"You think that'll suffice?" You ask and held up your hand for him to see.

He nodded furiously and tried to shove your hand back down to him, but you ripped your hand away from him.

"Fuck this, Harry." You said, wiped your hand on your shirt, and walked to the bathroom door.

"No, please!" He shouted after you.

You unlocked the door and walked out briskly. The rapid footsteps behind you signalled that he had put himself away, and he was coming to find you.

That only made you walk faster.

Now, you had no intention to actually leave him that way. You just wanted to make him work for it (and embarrass him for it).

He pleaded after you, but you refused to listen to his desperate begs until you both got to your dorms.

The stairs seemed to take forever, and you were starting to get desperate yourself. Harry finally caught up to you after a few minutes of struggle and began to curse you and your entire bloodline

You reached the common room after five minutes of ignoring him, and you immediately grabbed his wrist to start pulling him to the prefect dorm rooms.

At this time of day the prefects were out doing duties, so you had no doubt that nobody would come in.

"Shut the fuck up." You demanded and started to take his cloak and shirt off.

He grumbled at the buttons that ended up flying off whenever you were doing your relentless heist to get his shirt off but stopped as soon as you bent down.

He was red and seeping, so it excited you to no end. You kissed it, and he moaned lightly. Harry was deathly sensitive from your earlier encounter.

Eventually after licking stripes along the edges and making him beg a little you took the tip in your mouth and sucked vigorously.

He moaned out in practical agony at the edging you were submitting him to. You would drag your lips up and down him painfully slowly.

"Please let me cum, Y/N." Harry whined.

"I will later." You rolled your eyes dismissively.

You hollowed out your cheeks and wrapped your hand around the length that you couldn't quite reach.

He groaned and gripped your hair as you started to get faster, allowing his release to come closer and closer.

He whispered something almost unintelligible if you weren't so close. "I'm gonna cum."

That was your signal to pull off quickly. He watched in horror as it looked like he came, but he didn't feel anything. The white liquid spurted out in globs, but the orgasm never came.

You smiled devilishly at him and stood up quickly. He looked at you in denial at what you were doing.

You kissed him on the cheek lightly, walking away from Harry.

"Hey, where are you going?" He questioned irritatedly.

You shrugged and grinned. "I gave you what you wanted. You came."

He looked on in disbelief as you walked out of the opened door and into the dorm rooms, snickering loudly.

"If you touch yourself at all your going without me for two weeks!" You called.

Whenever you heard him groan in protest, you felt accomplished enough to go down to the cafeteria and take some stuff from the house elves.

Overall, a day well done.

[mugentakeda]

Do you have any fic recs similar to your take on iroh? Treating him as an actual character with some fucked up issues is SO much more fun!! I love him and I am chewing on your art

YES!!!!!!!! everytime i post about shithead iroh moments i get nervous someones gonna think i dont like him or im anti iroh or whatever but i genuinely honest to god think his less than savory past and personality traits ON TOP of the things about him that make him so beloved by the fandom makes him better. like yeah i love all parent characters that are just big softies but big softie parents that also are kinda (very much ) fucked up are even better. to ME. and i dont usually judge how good characters are on the basis of how good of a parent they are which is oddly something that a Lot of people do but. U wont find any of that on this blog which is also why i loveeeee ursa.

BUT I DIGRESS! here is my absolute favorite. its unfinished but what is there is still very loaded. digs in deep to iroh. gets pretty nitty gritty with it too. it changed how i see iroh and specifically season 1 iroh. it balances his b1 behavior with his later revealed status as a grand lotus MASTERFULLY, and puts his manipulative and cunning side on full display. might even make you mad at him a little bit

this one is less of a take on iroh as like. a general and a grand lotus and the war side of him and more of him as a father. its short and sad and i adore all of this authors fics involving iroh. it still shines a good light on the consequences of irohs own actions though because lu ten dying was literally his fault. the selfishness and the manic desperation that bleeds through this monologue is kind of scary but also is tragically beautiful.

ALSO these specific parts near the end of salvage were REALLY good. i feel like iroh is definitely the kind of guy that does a whole lot of backhanded comments as a way of patronizing without probably even realizing he does it?? i think a lot of people forget that what makes iroh being “changed” different from zuko is that zuko is still a child, and iroh is like. in his fifties or something. a whole LIFETIME of probably doing everything zuko did pre-redemption but far worse, and plenty times over. take how young azula is when ozai let her loose into the world into account. take the fact that iroh was already a general by the time he was sieging bss into account. im not gonna compare and contrast crimes here but i am trying to put weight onto how long iroh has been in the game. nasty shit like this is bound to still creep in the shadows of irohs mind and will definitely slip out sometimes.

and i know i keep bringing up that one unfinished super gnarly au fic that features azulon putting zuko into irohs care following irohs return to ba sing se (after ozai disgraced himself in requesting azulon give ozai the throne since iroh lost his only heir). hopefully one day ill find it because i hate to think the author deleted it or whatever . but out of all the fics that dig into irohs crimes id say this one does it the deepest while also SOMEHOW managing to make iroh sympathetic just by how sheerly pathetic and miserable he is the whole time. ONE DAY THOUGH. i pray that i will find it. because i have like over 200 pages of history on ao3 and i cant remember when exactly i read the fic so . searching for it has been kind of difficult but if i find it trust i will post it lol

[orowyrm]

Could we learn more abour Seiber?

YESS ABSOLUTELY!!

tragically i’m at work rn and have much to be doing so i can’t go TOO too in depth rn, but i CAN give a quick summary of who he is and what his deal is and then link to some other posts i’ve made that go into more detail . he is my silly guy and i liek him :)

- Seiber Starwalker is a NPC in the dnd campaign i’ve been a part of for the past few years now, Feywild’s Folly! He’s an aasimar priest of Mystara*, Goddess of knowledge, who resides in the port town of Horton, which has been kind of serving as the party’s ’home base’ for the past few story arcs. While the chief deity worshipped in Horton is Njord (a god of the sea is going to be pretty popular in a place where a large amount of the population are sailors or dock workers), the religious district is home to a lot of different altars and tertiary places of worship for a myriad of other “””lesser””” deities

( *very early on in the campaign, every single one of us somehow managed to confuse ‘Mystra’ as ‘Mystara’, and it’s been so long that we’ve just rolled with the change. the entire campaign is homebrew anyway so it’s probably like the most insignificant difference from ‘dnd canon’ LMAO but it can cause confusion so i thought id clarify

- to help give our lovely DM a break here and there and also to better involve us all in the worldbuilding and give us chances to shake things up since this has been a very long and convoluted campaign, each of us players get to come up an additional NPC that we can RP as during the course of the campaign in addition to our actual PCs. seiber is mine! :3

- one of the most significant things about him is that, as a part of his vows to mystara, he cannot willingly say or suggest anything that he knows to be false — basically, he can’t lie, and also if anyone asks him a question he knows the answer to he’s compelled to tell them. this is unfortunate for him because despite being a holy man, he’s also not exactly on the up-and-up legally speaking a lot of the time, but if he ever got caught he would be compelled to confess immediately. also because the party uses this to ask him embarrassing questions that he has no choice but to answer because they find it funny to torment him. which is fair. it’s pretty funny to put him in situations

- mystara has no actual problem with any of his antics. she actively encourages him in most situations. he’s her favorite and she’s motivated by curiosity, so on top of egging him on to get into bar fights and send letter bombs to people (long story), she will occasionally physically compel him to do some impulsive thing to satisfy her curiosity. like putting a raw egg in his mouth or touching a hot stove. he’s capable of resisting her if he sees it coming, but he’s often deep in thought and doesn’t notice what’s happening until it’s already been done. there’s no malice on her end — she simply doesn’t always remember that mundane beings have bodies that can sustain permanent harm. he often has to gently remind her that people die when they are killed.

- on the topic of mystara, she knows Literally Everything which in turn makes her quite forgetful. even a god can’t possibly store all the knowledge in the known universe at once, so she’s in a constant state of forgetting and relearning things. this is why her preferred method of ‘worship’ is for her followers to engage in rhings like researching the world around them or learning new hobbies, and why her favorite offerings are academic papers or textbooks or personal anecdotes — she subsists on knowledge and the act of learning itself is what sustains her

- if you squint you might notice he vaguely resembles a certain erm. video game astrophysicist from a bad team shooter whom i still hold dear to my heart. he was originally meant to be a one-off joke reference character but we all got attached to him very quickly and hes just a part of the campaign now despite being a dollar store sigma ovw. it’s fine im better at writing than blizz will ever be. i’m treating him right.

here’s a few more posts about his background / personality / relationship with mystara as well as some art of him and his gf rilith (who is a WHOLE OTHER CAN OF WORMS but as much as i adore her i can’t possibly type any more rn. there’s more about both of them in their respective tags though)

[stormdragon23]

Solo Leveling Novel Rambles starting from chapter 10 and up to chapter 12

(I should probably mention the chapter numbers I’m using are based on Tapas’ chapters, so it’s off from the actual chapter numbers)

Sung Jinwoo being reminded of Lee Juhee when he gets healed by the status recovery alsjdfa I wish more of their relationship was shown

Oh, the Rune Stones. Kind of forgot about them. I really like the background info on them though and how rare they are. Kind of want to explore that subject a bit more

I like how the novel spends some time explaining the skills. They were glossed over in the manhwa and anime, so by the time they were brought up, I didn’t even remember them

Jinwoo getting mad at the System because it’s not giving him any instructions about what anything means aksjkaksa I can relate to that though. I like step-by-step instructions. Also, him wishing he lifted the bed to test his strength before he spent his stat points is relatable haha Hindsight is 20/20

So far, Jinwoo in the novel seems more strategic than the manhwa? It speaks about his thoughts a lot more, so that may be why, but the manhwa seems to be more of him figuring out problems as it goes rather than taking the time he needs to figure things out

Jinwoo’s moments of excitement are so cute. He’s testing out his new strength after using the stat points and apologizes for making a mess when a nurse scolds him. I like Jinwoo’s sense of humor too. He seems easy to connect with in the novel compared to the manhwa. I love the art in the manhwa though, so you win some, you lose some

He seems a lot more grateful to be able to level up as well. In the manhwa and anime, he was more like “Oh thanks for saving my life. And the upgrades are nice too” while in the novel, he seems so excited about becoming stronger

Jinwoo doing research and the process behind it is something I really like seeing. Apparently, there are websites you need a Hunter’s license to access? I guess the license comes with an ID number or something? I don't think there was much of it in the manhwa. It would have been nice to see the forum in the manhwa though

Oh, Jinwoo noticed the sword in his inventory sooner than in the manhwa. I think I personally prefer the novel version of that since the manhwa seemed like too much of a coincidence.

I like Jinwoo's self-reflection after being betrayed in the double dungeon. While the manhwa does mention that Jinwoo wants to get stronger and not take unnecessary risks, I don't think it ever mentioned Jinwoo made the decision to no longer be necessarily kind. It's definitely shown later on in the manhwa which I found selfish yet understood why, but seeing the novel going into detail about it makes it clear about the reasons behind some of Jinwoo's decisions later on.

Oh, there's a conversation involving that one nurse that was pretty much forgotten in the manhwa. It's confirmed again that the S-Ranks are kind of seen as monsters, and the public doesn't know much about them. Baek Yoon-Ho is also mentioned! Although it's spelled as Baek Yun-Ho. At least his name is more recognizable than some of the other ones I've seen so far.

So the ranks of Hunters are visible for everyone to see? I guess that information isn't completely private. It does help with making sure people are telling the truth about their rank though

Okay, I can see why they dropped this part with the nurse in the manhwa lol I don't like it. This nurse girl wants to take advantage of the situation to have the chance to befriend an S-Rank. I mean, other people might do the same, but that doesn't mean it's not selfish.

Jinwoo says that his body has also changed drastically, even before he does the D-Rank dungeon, and notices the other nurses talking about him. He doesn't seem as dense as I thought he would have based on how he was in the manhwa

The chapters are split weirdly, so I'm actually around chapter 8 of the novel? They probably did it so that people would have to spend more. I'm choosing the free option though, so it doesn't really affect me that much, but the numbering is confusing

[blooming-violets]

Pinky Promise Rewrite|| Ch. 1

[TASM Peter Parker x female OC]

Summary: The fate of the one she loves most is put into the hands of a masked stranger, forever entwining their lives. 

Major Overall Series Warnings: 18+ smut, mental health triggers (ptsd/depression/panic attacks/a suicide attempt from a child/trauma), a retelling of forced sexual assault and manipulation, kidnapping of a minor

Chapter One Warnings: suicide attempt from a child, mention of a parent on drugs (heroin) and another in jail, childhood bullying and childhood depression

A/N: This is a rewrite of my very first fic on this blog. The original was written in second person. I wanted to rewrite it properly in third person and write Lucy how I imagined her instead of making her a reader insert style character. I also wanted to add some lost scenes and darken up the tones of how I originally wanted to tell this story. It’s a ten chapter fic. I know it’s going to get hardly any notes, especially as it’s a story I’ve told before, but my brain is telling me that I need to rewrite this. I can’t rest until I do. This one is completely self indulgent. If you want to give it a read, go for it. If not, that’s okay too and I’ll see you again when I post something fresh and new. xoxo Katie

Pinky Promise || Chapter One || The Fall

The heavy vibration of the phone rumbling in her pocket dragged her from distant thoughts. 

Lucy hurried to push open her apartment door, throwing her shoulder against it as it was prone to sticking, and quickly shoved her way inside. She dropped her bag of cleaning supplies on the ground and fished the phone from her apron. 

Dread filled her stomach as she caught sight of the caller id.

“Midtown Elementary Academy”

Olivia’s school. She closed her eyes and slumped against the door with a groan. Not again. This would be the fourth time this week she received a call from them and the ninth time this month. Olivia was on the fast track to expulsion if she kept this up. 

Lucy steadied her breathing, clearing her throat to sound more professional as she answered, “Yes, hello?” 

“Ms. Miller? This is Diane Fleming, Olivia’s teacher.” 

She rolled her eyes in annoyance. Mrs. Fleming always acted as if this was the first time Lucy was hearing of her. They’ve only had this conversation a million times before. Lucy bit her tongue and kept up a pleasant, nonchalant, attitude, “Oh, hello. What can I do for you today, Mrs. Fleming?” 

She listened to the exasperated tones in the older woman’s voice and knew whatever was coming next wasn’t going to be good. 

“I was wondering if you could come in this afternoon? The incidents we have been discussing have become more frequent. Olivia’s behavior is getting out of control. I think it would be best if the three of us could sit down with the school counselor and talk about this in person.”

Her nightmares were coming to fruition. Getting involved with a counselor would only spark more judgment on their little family. At 23 years old, most people didn’t take her very seriously as a caregiver. They’d take one look at Olivia, do the math in their heads, and come to the conclusion that Lucy probably had her when she was around 16. They wouldn’t be wrong except for the fact that Olivia wasn’t her daughter. She was her sister. That nugget of truth would only open up even more unwanted speculation on their lives. It was like she could see their brains churning through the questions they would never dare ask. Were their parents dead or just deadbeats? Should we pity them with sadness for being orphans or pity them with prejudice for having useless parents? Either way, they were constantly being looked down on. 

Lucy sighed, “What did she do now?” 

Olivia was struggling this year at her new school. Second grade had not been kind to her. Midtown Academy was a dream school for them. Being a private school, if a kid wasn’t from a wealthy family, then they needed to seriously impress the school board with their academic skills to have a chance at attending. Olivia was brighter than average. She was reading at a 5th grade level and had a particular knack for sciences and mathematics. Her first grade teacher was the one to recommend trying out for the annual scholarship Midtown offered each summer. It was something Lucy wouldn’t have even considered on her own. With her teacher's help and glowing recommendation, Olivia beat out every other kid for the spot. She won a full ride scholarship. A scholarship that was now hanging on by a thread due to her behavior. This was supposed to be the big break that they needed. If Olivia could succeed here, she could go on to Midtown School of Science and Technology. Her future for colleges and potential scholarships would be even brighter. It was an opportunity Lucy refused to let her miss out on. The alternative was grim compared to this gift they were given. She knew her sister was struggling but this was the best chance she had to give her a decent future. 

The student’s at this school were mean. They came from upper class families. The kind of kids who had everything handed to them their whole lives and never heard the word “no” before. Like sharks in the ocean catching the whiff of fresh blood, they could easily surmise that Olivia was different from them. She became an easy target. The tension only grew and Lucy could see how negatively it was affecting her sister. Olivia was harboring a lot of pent up anger. It consumed her soul until it had no place else to go but out. 

The call on Monday happened because, during art class, Olivia drew a very graphic picture of a classmate being brutally murdered by a man in a giant metal rhino suit. That was an interesting conversation to have with Mrs. Fleming. Lucy tried to argue that it was art class and one can not judge an artist's interpretation on their chosen subject matter. She wasn’t even sure how her sister had heard about the Rhino who once terrorized the city streets. Olivia was only a toddler back then. On Tuesday it was because, during creative writing, she wrote a horrible poem about how she wished her teacher would get paralyzed by a bus. Lucy tried to argue that the children were given a free writing prompt and that the poem was, structurally, very well written. Olivia was merely exercising her creativity and imagination, surely she didn’t actually mean what she wrote, it was nothing more than a misunderstanding. The attempt to cover for her sister was noted but not well received. On Wednesday, Olivia escalated her antics, by cutting off half her long braid in the middle of a spelling test. Lucy had no excuse for that one except that she had been meaning to get her a haircut and maybe she decided to take matters into her own hands. Thursday went by without a call, much to her relief, but it wasn’t until Olivia returned home when Lucy noticed her lip was split open and a bruise was forming on her jaw. Then it was her turn to call the school. They had a lot to say when it came to accusing Olivia of things but were very quiet when the tables were turned. They mentioned something about a brief altercation in the bathroom that afternoon but no student had come forward to take the blame. Olivia refused to talk about what happened or point any fingers. 

Now it was Friday and she was here. Another call. She waited with bated breath to hear what her little sister had gotten up to today. A hundred preplanned excuses rattled around in her head, ready to cover all her bases and, hopefully, give Olivia another extension before she got expelled.  

“Well, Ms. Miller, this afternoon, Olivia dumped a jar of spiders down the back of the young girl sitting in front of her.” 

Lucy’s eyes widened in shock. Shit. That was not something she had an excuse lined up for. How the hell did she collect a jar of spiders? Where did she even get the jar from? Why was this something that she would even think to do? The absurd imagery that came to mind was too much to handle. It was so outrageous of a thought that Lucy had to stifle a laugh. Unfortunately a quiet snort managed to push its way out through her nose. 

Mrs. Fleming picked up on it right away, “I’m sorry but do you find this behavior amusing? Olivia is a seriously disturbed child. Her behavior is unacceptable. We do not tolerate bullying in our school.” 

Any bit of humor Lucy found in the mental image of her sister carrying around a jar of spiders disappeared in an instant. Fire rose in her voice, her patience wearing thin, “What do you mean you don’t tolerate bullying? Liv came home yesterday with a busted lip and bruised face. None of you seemed to care too much about that. You acted like she did to herself! She’s 8 years old. Someone clearly attacked her in the bathroom but, because she’s a scholarship kid and not one of your elites, not a single person cared to look further into the matter. God forbid you find out that one of daddy’s little princesses beat the crap of her. You wouldn’t dare want to accuse a kid who daddy paid for the new gymnasium. It’s easier to take it out on the kid who comes from nothing because then you have nothing to lose.” 

Her anger was getting the better of her. She knew she shouldn’t let herself explode like that. Olivia’s future depended on this school. She needed to play nice but she had been working overtime lately in an attempt to manage the constant pile of bills. She should have kept a better eye on her sister. Too much work and not enough time set aside to check in on her. Olivia was slipping through her fingers. This was her fault. She was a terrible excuse for a parent. 

Mrs. Fleming sighed. Lucy could almost hear her rubbing her eyes with her hands like this entire conversation was draining her energy. “We currently have Olivia detained in the office. The mother of the young girl who was assaulted has been notified and is thinking of pressing charges. It would be best if you could come down here as soon as possible to help us figure out what the next move for Olivia should be.”

Her stomach dropped. Pressing charges? This was worse than she thought. Olivia’s school wasn’t just on the line, her whole life was. If the police got involved then social services would be sure to follow. She hated rich people. They’d have lawyers and police in their back pocket. If they wanted to press charges, her and Olivia would be screwed. 

“Okay,” she mumbled quietly, the fear evident in her voice. “I’ll come right down. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” 

Her snow boots were still on her feet, not having had any time to remove them before getting the call. She threw her winter jacket back on over her house cleaner uniform, tugging a purple knit hat over her blonde hair, and quickly hurried back out the door. Taking the five flights of stairs down to the entrance was the better option than risking the rickety, old elevator. The familiar musky smell of cigarette smoke and urine hit her nose as she barged into the stairwell. She hurried down the concrete stairs, her heavy footsteps echoing off the empty walls, and hurried out into the cold February air. The crisp chill sucked into her lungs, freezing them, and causing her to cough out puffs of misty vapor. Only this morning, her and Olivia were pretending to be dragons, exhaling breaths of smoke, as she walked her to school. She seemed so happy. Lucy never would have guessed she was secretly carrying a jar of spiders in her backpack. Weaponizing insects was not on her list of things she expected to be dealing with this week.  

Anxiety tumbled in a terrible knot in her stomach. She was failing at being a caregiver. Sometimes she thought all she had to be was kind, understanding, and loving. If she could manage that, then everything would turn out fine. Clearly, that wasn’t enough. Olivia needed help. Help that would cost money. Money that they didn’t have. She had no idea how to be a parent. Her role models were terrible. Their father was a monster. He was currently serving life on Ryker’s Island for getting involved in a drug gang run by someone with the alias Mister Brownstone. He’d help cart heroin around to known dealers and skim some off the top for his wife. Their mother was an addict and that addiction was only fueled by her husband. He liked to keep her doped up and sedated. It’s easier to manipulate people that way. 

Lucy grew up in foster care. Once she entered school, it was obvious to her teachers that something wasn’t right. There’s only so many times a little girl can come in wearing the same clothes with unwashed, lice infested hair everyday before they start to tip off social services. She bounced from foster home to foster home. About once every few years her mother would get clean, claim to have left her husband, and was trying to start fresh. Lucy would be placed back in her care. The two of them would live a happy life for about a month or so until her father would find them again and her mother would get hooked right back onto the drugs. Then it was back into the system for her. Eventually she learned to harden her heart and stop relying on parents to meet any basic needs. She could be self-sufficient. She could take care of herself. She didn’t need anyone to help her and she would make something of herself without them. 

Then Olivia was born during her sophomore year of high school. 

She knew she had a sister but she never saw much of her during her infancy. It wasn’t like she was in touch with her mother then. She tried to keep her family at an arm's length so they didn’t ruin her studies. On her 18th birthday, with five months left of high school, her mother showed up at Lucy’s door with a malnourished toddler in her arms. It was clear the child wasn’t being properly cared for. Her dreams of college, all the hard earned money she had saved, all flew out the window at the sight of her sister. Sometimes there are things in life that need to be put aside for the sake of others. Lucy’s dreams and her ideal future were some of those things. She refused to let her sister have the same life as her. She collected all the money she had, dropped out of high school, and rented a single bedroom apartment. She filed for custody of her sister. At that point, her father was already in jail, and her mother willingly signed over her rights. Olivia became her responsibility. 

And she loved it. 

She adored her baby sister. For the first time in her life, someone loved her. Really loved her. Lucy poured everything she could into Olivia. She was determined to give her the life that she missed out on. It was easier said than done. Living in the city was expensive. As a high school drop out, there weren’t many opportunities for decent paying jobs. The housekeeping job she managed to get was the best paying one she’d found so far and they still struggled to pay the bills on time. Olivia was smart. She knew she was different from the kids at her school. They came from wealth, she didn’t. She knew what her life could end up like if she didn’t thrive in this new environment. That was why it was so frustrating for Lucy. She didn’t want her sister to end up a failure. Not like her. 

The sound of sharp sirens yanked her from her spiraling thoughts. Three police cars raced by her. They were driving far too fast for these tight side streets. The wind kicked up as they passed, blowing her long hair in front of her face, and blasting her with an uncomfortable chill that cut straight through her old jacket. She brushed her hair out of her eyes and ran her icy fingers over her frozen nose. There was always something crazy happening in this city. People tend to look the other way now and continue on with their lives. If a mad scientist isn’t directly affecting their path to wherever they need to go, then it is of no concern to them. The police can pretend to deal with whatever the threat is but everyone knows it's really Spider-Man who gets their job done for them. 

Lucy watched with a mild indifference as the cop car's speed down to the end of the street. It wasn’t until they took a sharp left into the school parking lot that her throat tightened. Her limbs felt numb as the pressing anxiety constricted her blood vessels. There could be a million reasons why the police were showing up at the elementary school but none of them mattered. In her heart, she knew. 

Something was wrong with Olivia. 

Her legs were running before her thoughts even had time to process the situation. The icy sidewalks caused her boots to lose traction and she slipped forward, never losing her balance, but growing frustrated that she couldn’t run as fast as she wanted. It felt like she was trying to run in a dream, constantly being held back by an unknown force. 

By the time she rounded the corner to the school, her breath left her lungs at the sight that greeted her. The three police cars had stopped out front. Their wailing sirens were off but the lights still flashed red over all the white, blinding snow in the afternoon sun. A group of people were gathered outside. They each looked up in horror to the school roof. Bile rose in her throat as her eyes lifted to catch what they were looking at. 

Standing three stories in the air, her little black snow boots hugging the edge of the roof, was Olivia. She had climbed up onto the ledge and was staring down at the commotion below her.

The winter wind whipped her freshly cut, short, blonde hair around her face, obscuring it from view. Her skirt uniform blew around her navy tights. She wore no jacket, only her school cardigan kept her from the cold. Even from down below, Lucy could see how violently she was shaking. From fear or the cold, she didn’t know. She looked so small. So fragile. 

A piercing sob ripped out Lucy’s throat at the sight of her baby sister standing so dangerously close to the edge. It was too windy. She was too tiny. She was going to blow straight off the roof if she wasn’t careful. The sound of Lucy’s screamed cry alerted one of the teachers to her presence. He tried to make his way over to her. He tried to reach out a hand of comfort in her direction but Lucy slapped it away. They let this happen. This was their fault Olivia was up there. Someone should have been watching her. Before the teacher could open his mouth to speak, she had shoved passed him and ran straight to the front doors. She could hear someone yelling behind her to stop, that she wasn’t allowed inside, but nothing they could say would ever hold her back. 

She had no idea how to get up to the roof. This school’s layout was unfamiliar to her but she didn’t care. She found the nearest flight of stairs and dashed up, two at a time, as fast as her body would allow. Her feet hardly touched the ground before they were off again. Each flight brought her closer to her sister. As she barged up the last set of stairs, she caught sight of Mrs. Fleming, the principal, and a police officer standing next to a ladder leading up to an open hatch in the roof. They turned when they heard her heavy footsteps swiftly approaching. The melting snow on her boots caused her to slip across the laminate tiles and come to a sudden halt in front of them. 

“This area is off limits,” the officer commanded. 

“It’s okay. It’s the girl’s sister,” Mrs. Fleming quickly replied. Her eyes were filled with tears and fear was etched in every line of her face. “Olivia won’t let us get close to her. Every time we tried, she backed further away. Once she hit the edge, we had to retreat in the hopes that she would come down. She’s threatening to jump.” 

The ever pressing feeling of bile in her throat rose again. Lucy swallowed it back down.

“Move,” she ordered, elbowing them out of her way to get to the ladder. “I’ll get her myself.” 

They didn’t argue with her but the officer grabbed her elbow as she started to climb, “Be careful. Talk to her calmly and gently. Try to get her to move far enough away from the edge until she’s not in immediate danger. We have a firetruck on the way with a ladder but it’s stuck in traffic. An ambulance just arrived and is standing by if she falls-” 

The rest of his words faded into a loud buzzing sound as her hearing abandoned her. If she falls? No. Not her Liv. She wasn’t going to fall. She was going to be fine. Lucy was going to get her and bring her back safely. This was her baby sister. There would be no falling. She needed to get Olivia back into the safety of her arms. She would protect her. She would keep her safe just like she always did. 

Lucy shrugged her arm away from the officer and continued her mission. The old metal ladder creaked under her weight with each step. She tried not to picture Olivia making this same climb. She didn’t want to think about why the hatch was left unlocked in the first place. It would only fill her with anger and she needed to be level headed right now even though her thoughts were buzzing into nothing but a ringing static. Blinding sunlight reflecting off the snow shone into her eyes as she crawled her way out onto the roof. The sky was too blue, too perfect, for any of this to be happening. 

As she clambered onto shaky legs, Lucy looked across the roof. There was her sweet, little sister. Her back turned to her as she looked down at the ground below her. No more than fifty feet from her and, yet, she felt like a lifetime away. Tears sprang to her eyes at the sight. 

“Liv!” Lucy called out, her voice wavering, but trying to remain calm so she didn’t scare her into losing her balance. “Livvy, it’s me. It’s Lucy. I’m here. It’s okay, baby. I’m here now. You’re safe. You’re okay.” She took a few careful steps towards her, the ice under her feet making it hard to stay upright. 

Olivia turned around on the ledge. Her legs shook unsteadily under her. Her lips were blue and shivering. Her cheeks were stained bright red from the wind whipping around her. There were tears spilling down her face. She looked so broken. So scared. All Lucy wanted was to run straight to her, scoop her up protectively in her arms, and carry her far away from here. 

“They want to take me away!” She shouted back. Her tiny voice got lost in the whistling wind drowning her out. “I heard them talking when I was in the principal's office! Ashley said they were going to put me in jail for what I did. She said I was no better than my daddy. She said I would never see you again!” 

Lucy’s heart broke at hearing the pain in her sister’s voice. She guessed that Ashley was the one who got spidered this afternoon. There was no time to contemplate her absolute hatred for that kid. She could save that rage for later. Olivia was more important. Lucy took another tentative step towards her, trying to carefully close the gap between them without being obvious. 

“No one is going to take you away from me, Olivia. I won’t let them. Please,” she begged. “Please, Livvy, I need you to carefully step down, okay? I need you to let me come get you and I will take you away from here.” 

As Lucy took another step forward, Olivia inched back. Her heels now hung off the side of the building. A collective, horrified gasp echoed from the people below. Someone began shouting in a megaphone up at her. The voice got muffled against the howling wind and only added to the stress happening above. She could see the panic start to rise in Olivia’s eyes as they darted back and forth, looking for a way out, but finding none. 

She shook her head with a pained cry, “Stop it, Lucy! Don’t come any closer! Leave me alone! Just leave me alone…I want everyone to leave me alone…please. Please.” Her shoulder shook with quiet sobs. 

Despair and desperation filled her heart, “Okay! Okay! I won’t come any closer! Just stop moving! You need to stop moving, Olivia! I’m begging you. Don’t move. Stay still. We can talk about it as long as you stop moving.” 

Olivia wiped tears from her eyes, her bottom lip shook uncontrollably, “You don’t know anything, Lucy. You don’t know what it’s like to go to this school. I hate these people! I miss my old school. I miss my friends. They were nice. They were like me. Not here. Not these kids. They’re all horrible!” She hugged her wool cardigan tighter around her small frame. “I want to disappear. Go away. Leave me alone. Let me go away.” 

She was breaking her heart with every word. Lucy took a deep breath to try to calm her nerves. All she needed to do right now was get her off the ledge as quickly as possible. She’d say or agree to anything if it meant having her sister safe in her arms again. “I hear you, Liv. I hear you, okay? But I’m not going anywhere. I am not leaving. I am never leaving you. You’re my world, Livvy. I need you to come down so we can talk about this. We can’t have this conversation up here. It’s too cold. You’re going to freeze. You don’t even have a jacket. Come down and I’ll bring you home. I’ll make you some hot chocolate. We can make a blanket fort. And we can talk about finding you a new school. Whatever you need, Liv. If you tell me that you want to move the Alaskan wilderness then, fuck it, we’ll move to Alaska! We can do anything you want! But we can’t start that conversation until you let me come get you. I’ll walk over really carefully, hold your hand, and help you down, okay? Let me come over to you. Please?” 

“I’m no good…” Her voice could scarcely be heard over the wind. She sounded so powerless and lost. How could Lucy have ever let things get this bad? “”Everyone told me so. I’m going to be in jail like daddy. I’m not smart. They said I faked my way into this school. I’m a bad person. Even the principal said so. She said I did bad things. Ashley’s mom called the police on me. I see them down there. If I get down, they’re going to arrest me. I don’t want to leave you, Lucy.” 

No eight year old should ever have that kind of weight on her shoulders. She should have been more observant. She should have fought harder for her. Lucy knew she was struggling but she should have realized how bad it really was. She was a terrible sister. 

“I’m sorry, Livvy. I’m so sorry,” she sniffled and offered her sister a sad smile. “I didn’t know how bad it was. Now I do. I’m going to make it better. I’m going to get you some help, okay? The police down there aren’t here to arrest you. They just want to make sure that you’re safe. Once you come down, they’ll go away. I’ll keep you safe.” She inched her way closer as she spoke. “You’re not a bad person, Liv. You’re the smartest kid I ever met. All those other kids are just jealous because you got into this school based on how smart you really are. They had to pay their way to get in. They try to bring you down to make themselves feel better. It’s not your fault. You’re going to grow up and change the world someday but you need to be around to do that. I need you. I need you with me. Without you, I’m nothing. You’re my everything. You’re my family. I promise I will keep you safe. I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again.” She was so close to her now. Slowly, Lucy reached out a trembling hand for her to take. “Please. Let me bring you home, Olivia. Let’s go.” 

Olivia looked up, locking eyes with her, and gave a soft nod of acceptance. Sorrow burned behind her teary eyes. Her shoulders sagged in defeat. Lucy’s words had struck something in her and she was tired and ready to go home. Her hand reached out to grab onto the one already outstretched. It was so close. Lucy could almost feel her skin against her, her safely just within reach…when a large gust of wind pushed past them. The force staggered Olivia, the ice under her caused her boot to lose its footing. Her eyes widened in fear and her mouth hung open in a silent gasp. 

Lucy watched in pure terror as her eight year old sister tumbled backwards, out of her grasp, and over the edge of the building. 

A heart wrenching scream ripped from her chest as her hand grabbed onto nothing but cold air. 

Time slowed. 

Nothing but the sound of her own horrified shrieks filled her ears. 

One second she had been there, and the next, she was gone. 

Empty space where she once stood. 

It felt like she was wading through waist high mud as Lucy ran to the ledge after her. She couldn’t get there fast enough like the world was trying to hold her back from whatever horrors she would see on the other side. She threw her body across the ledge, the sharp edges digging into her ribs, as she looked down below her. 

Her brain couldn’t comprehend what she was seeing. 

Olivia was gone. 

Not dead. 

There was no splattered, tiny body painting red across the white ground. 

She was just…gone. 

No body in sight. 

Nothing. 

Lucy scanned the crowd, the parking lot, even the wall to see if she had somehow caught herself and was desperately trying to hang on. There was nothing. No sign that Olivia had ever been there, as if it was nothing but a horrible dream. She had vanished into thin air. Like she never existed at all. 

The panic gripped in Lucy’s chest and her breath came in short, frenzied gasps. The hysteria numbed her body. Her fingers still tingled with the ghost of Olivia’s hand grazing hers as she fell. She stumbled back from the edge, wide eyed with disorientation, as her legs gave out. The ice below her knees cut through her jeans and dug into her skin. 

“Liv…” she called out meekly. 

She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t feel. 

A wailed sob got stuck in her throat. Her heart was pounding. Nothing was real. Nothing mattered except Olivia. 

Someone cleared their throat directly behind her. Lucy gasped and whipped her head around so fast that she tumbled onto her backside in shock. The freezing coldness of the roof seeped through her pants and clawed up her skin until she could feel nothing but ice. 

Standing above her was New York City’s very own Spider-Man. Clinging to his chest, her head buried deep into the crook of his neck, was Olivia. 

Lucy’s eyes widened, tears blurring her vision, as relief flooded her veins. Just as quickly as she had vanished from her life, she had reappeared. 

“I thought you might want this back,” he spoke with a muffled voice through his mask as he nodded his head to Olivia. 

Every emotion in the world rushed through her as Lucy scrambled to her feet and threw her arms around both Spider-Man and her sister, squishing her protectively between the two of them. Lucy’s body shook with loud, unabashed sobs. 

She was safe. Olivia was safe. The world was okay again. 

Lucy clung to the two of them. Her head was spinning and she was starting to feel lightheaded. Holding onto his sturdy frame was the only thing keeping her upright. She was terrified that if she let go then Olivia would disappear again. As long as she was pressed between her and the masked man, Liv was safe. Lucy wanted to keep her that way for as long as she could. Her baby girl was safe. 

With a light whimper, she finally let go long enough to collect her sister from her savior’s arms. Olivia released her death grip on Spider-Man and turned it onto Lucy instead, wrapping her legs around her waist, and clinging on like she was just as scared to let go. Lucy sunk to the ground and cradled her against her chest like she used to when Olivia was baby. She brushed her fingers over her frozen face, feeling her, making her sure she was really there. She was cold but she was alive. Lucy quickly shrugged her winter jacket off and wrapped it around her sister. They were both in shock, unable to form any words, unable to move, other than to cling onto each other and cry. 

Safe. 

She was safe. 

Lucy had to keep repeating that over and over again in her head until it finally started to sink in. 

Spider-Man watched quietly, allowing them to have their moment, before finally squatting down in front of them. He reached out a gloved hand and ruffled Olivia’s hair, “I think she’ll be alright. I caught her pretty quickly. I’d still get her checked out at a hospital thought to be safe. I could feel how cold she was through my suit. They’ll want to take her vitals and make sure she doesn’t have hypothermia or frostbite anywhere.” 

The sound of another person’s voice was enough to snap the two of them out of the world they had created between them. Olivia’s eyes welled up with tears. 

“I’m sorry,” she cried. “I’m sorry! I’ll never do that again. I was so scared. I’m sorry, Lucy. Don’t let them take me to jail!” 

“Hey, now!” Spider-Man shuffled closer to her and placed a hand protectively on her back. “Who said anything about taking you to jail?”

Olivia peeked her head out from Lucy’s chest, looking up at him with wet, scared eyes, “I put spiders down Ashley’s shirt and her mom said I would go to jail for being bad.” 

Spider-Man paused, allowing a beat of silence to settle, then burst out into a loud laugh. It was the most angelic sound Lucy had ever heard. Maybe it was because he had just saved Olivia’s life and, therefore, became the most important man in the world to her but Lucy was filled with a deep love for the masked stranger. His laughter cut through some of her own tension and she let out an unintentional giggle. Call it a trauma response, but suddenly, the thought of Olivia dumping a jar of spiders down some asshole bully’s shirt was the funniest thing in the world to her. Tears of laughter streamed down her face. Once they started, they couldn’t stop. The reality of school bully’s and scholarships felt so small now that her entire perception of the world had shifted. Her sister was safe. She was alive. Everything else pales in comparison. 

Olivia looked between the laughing pair with utter confusion, “What’s so funny?!”

Lucy did her best to stifle the raging emotions and nuzzled her face into Olivia’s hair, “Sorry, baby. I’m just happy you’re safe.” She could feel her body finally start to relax. Olivia was safe. She kept reminding herself of that fact. She was safe thanks to Spider-Man. Her day was unexpectedly filled with more spiders than she ever could have possibly anticipated. She took a deep breath to calm herself. So many emotions in so little time. 

“I bet Ashley deserved it,” Spider-Man replied. She couldn’t see his face but she heard the smile in his voice. “I’m friends with those officers down there. One word from me and they won’t even think about sending you to jail. I won’t let anyone take you. I promise.” 

“Pinky promise?” Olivia reached out a shaky hand to her new hero and extended her pinky. 

“Pinky promise.” 

Lucy watched as Spider-Man locked fingers with her sister. 

“Now let’s get you both down from here and out of the cold,” he said. “I don’t want either of you to freeze to death on my watch.” 

He helped pull Lucy to her feet with ease as she held Olivia close to her chest. His hand rested dutifully on the small of her back, making sure they didn’t slip, as he led them towards the hatch. 

“Mr. Spider-Man?” Olivia asked as she stared over in amazement at him.  

“Please, call me Spidey. Mr. Spider-Man was my father.” 

Lucy rolled her eyes and hid a smile at the joke but it went straight over Olivia’s head, “Okay, Mr. Spidey, will you come over to our apartment for dinner?” 

She hushed her sister, “Absolutely not. He’s a busy man, Liv. He can’t stop by people’s houses for dinner whenever he rescues someone. He doesn’t have time for that. Besides, how can he eat if he can’t take his mask off?” The thought of the famous Spider-Man sitting in full costume with the two of them at their tiny, beat up kitchen table made her smile again. It felt nice to smile.

Olivia gasped, “He can’t take off his mask? Is it glued onto his head? Mr. Spidey, is your mask glued to your head?”

“Oh my god, that’s not what I meant, Liv. I meant he can’t reveal his secret identity. Just drop it, okay?” She sighed. “We have to worry about you first. You caused quite a lot of chaos for such a small child. I’m going to have to do a lot of damage control here.” 

She stopped at the hatch. Down below she could see two paramedics waiting at the bottom of the ladder. 

“I’m going to lower you down now, alright?” She said, “Those nice people down there will help you on the ladder. I’ll be right behind you.” 

It physically hurt her to let Olivia leave her tight grasp but there was no way Lucy would be able to get down while carrying her. She watched, holding back her sudden feelings of panic, as her sister climbed into the arms of the people below. 

Before Olivia fully disappeared, she poked her head back up, “Thank you for saving me, Mr. Spidey. I hope you come visit me for dinner some day, even if your mask is glued to your head.” With that, she ducked back down.

Lucy didn’t want to leave her alone for too long. The idea of her being out of her sight for any longer than a minute was too much to handle. Still, she felt the need to thank Spider-Man herself. He had saved her entire world today. Without him, she probably would have thrown herself off the roof right after Olivia. He was the reason they were still breathing. He was the reason they had a second chance. 

“Thank you,” she spoke softly to him, the exhaustion starting to settle into her bones after the panic she’d experienced. “I don’t know how to express to you what you did today. You saved my sister. She’s my entire world. She’s my everything. You saved her when I couldn’t.” Tears brimmed in her eyes as she pulled him into a hug. Lucy could feel his muscles tense under the suit at the sincerity of the embrace. He gingerly wrapped his arms around her to hug her back, opting to stay silent, but pouring his own gratitude into the embrace. She could tell he was thankful that he was there to save the day, too. 

Her eyes closed as she felt this stranger hold her tightly.

No, not a stranger. A hero. Her hero. 

“Thank you,” she whispered again before placing a soft kiss against his masked cheek. 

With one last grateful look, she pulled away and climbed down after her sister, leaving Spider-Man behind. 

[Chapter Two]

A/N: If you’ve read this far and enjoyed what you read, please give it a reblog! Reblogs make the world go round and help support tumblr writers. It would be very much appreciated. 

If you want to be added to a tag list for this story, let me know and I’ll gladly tag you, but only if you reblog. That’s my new rule. 

[cosmic-tuna]

Hi from another geology student. What is your specialty/interest area in geology? I can't figure it out. Mine is igneous petrology/geochemistry, particularly silica undersaturated rocks such as carbonatites. And I just get excited when you mention monazite and neodymium. You seem to have similar interest. But you hate mineral ID??

And what is your research on?

Mate your guess is as good as mine re my specality!!! I have spent the past few years researching mineral yield efficiency for zircon and other heavy minerals (GREAT for age dating, gold panning, probably REE mining, etc) but I wouldn't call it my specality.

The monazite is because of my mineralogy project! Ec-501, my sample, had suprise monazite in it. Ngl, it did fuck up some of my data because I was working on assumptipn regarding its location but SHRUG. Nd was also in the sample, but I am researching it a little with my mineral yield because it's great for digging out magnetic minerals and shavings from our rock crusher. (still on the fence about wet vs dry pulling tho)

I honestly don't know what my interest is? I like geology. I hate anything fluvial, but I don't have too much experience with any one area to say much. While I do like mineralogy and thought it would be my fit, there's a little too much heavy math involved? And I have a love hate relationship with min id.. Like... I enjoy doing it, I think, just not for a grade. And I'm way better with hand id versus thin sec, because the latter just has so many variables and I still don't fully understand slow vs fast ray or how to use the accessory plate or how to differentiate monazite and zircon.

Mostly I just like working in a lab with rocks, be it crushing them or grain picking or whatever. I'm hoping, post grad, to get a job as a lab rat for some company. I'm not fit enough for extensive field work, plus a lot of companies I have spoken to want to have someone who is willing to stay inside! (I had one company give me the info of their CEO and almost beg me to call him for a job because they desperately needed someone who would help the CEO on retainer wall design and yknow. stay. tf. inside.)

But tl;dr. I don't really know what my interest is, I'm just happy doing grunt work as long as I can stay inside. I do know my dislikes; fluvial geomorph is too difficult for me, certain aspects of mineralogy are difficult, and I'm not able to do field work. While there are things I do like, I'm still kind of searching for my big thing.

[brokenmusicboxwolfe]

I’ve been busy today.

I moved not one but two bookcases, requiring two trips with the pickup. One bookcase was so dang heavy I wasn’t sure I’d manage. When I got there I discovered that I had scratched the wood pretty seriously, AND that the part that had been in the “wet” corner of my bedroom** has a wee bit of mold to deal with.

Then I ran out of gas with the pickup. I was afraid of this. Since I have to pay a bill for $100 this coming week and buy another $100 worth of medicine for the dogs, I can’t buy gas for it. The pickup will now have to stay parked until next month, when (fingers crossed) I can at least afford a 1/4 tank worth. I mean, I have $5 right now, so….

I went to vote. I always vote. I have to. It’s my duty, even when it feels like screaming in a tornado. I hate it.

Now you are going to say “Why didn’t you early vote or do mail in?” Well, the early voting place is 10 miles away and not near where .i do my errands every two weeks. I’d have to burn extra gas. And as for mail in, well now that my state does photo ID you need to send a copy of it when you vote. My printer is broken, and the only way I can print anything is to beg folks to be kind and let me use their printer. I hate over begging.

Speaking of photo IDs…ugh!. Besides the obvious reasons to hate it for making voting harder, I hate it for more petty reasons. My driver’s license photo actually made me cry when I saw it the first time. I keep it in my wallet backwards so I don’t have to see it. And it’s just one more damn step, particularly in a rural place where when I walk in people say “Hi Stephanie”.

Not that I am keen on the “Hi Stephanie” thing. People ask me questions I hate answering. They do ask about Mom, of course, which is always nice when I can tell her someone asked about her, but I wince as any question about me. There is no question that can’t remind me what a disaster my life is. The thing is, they probably don’t really care and are asking because it’s a “thing you do”. I agonize, start to answer, and if I go one sentence too long they don’t exactly hide their disinterest. And then that hurts too.

At least here there are no lines at all. There were four workers and three of us voting.

Man, voting in local races sucks in rural place like this! You know that your vote matters a hell of a lot in a race like county commissioner, but where can you get the info of the candidates? Maybe if I could afford to subscribe to a local paper, but I can’t. And most these candidates don’t even have a damn Facebook page! The ones with no track record as incumbents to Google up, are the worst. The only one that had social media that I could find was involved in a nasty tiff with someone hassling them in bad faith, which, I mean, seeing how they deal with a troll is informative, but WTF about issues?

Anyway, I kept up my “be responsible” track record and voted. And Woo-Hoo! They are giving stickers again! I can finally go back to sticking them in my journal!

Yeah, getting excited by an unimaginatively designed “I voted” sticker is silly and childish, but what the hell. Got take pleasure in dumb things, because pleasure is hard to come by and most things are dumb!!

Now to get back to those bookshelves….

**Next to the leak from the pipe coming out of the well that I STILL can’t get fixed!

[sorikkung]

what goes on in neverland. ⇝ ch. 4: brooding, beefing, and a not-quite-bluff

word count: 7.6k

pairings: transmasc!reader x Everyone, everyone x everyone (its literally too convoluted for me to try type them out here anymore just see the masterlist for full pairings LOL)

genre: e2l, f2l, smut, fluff and lots of assorted shenanigans. hijinks, if you will

au: battle of the bands!au but make it gay and horny

warnings: instantly-regretted slut shaming (including sti shaming?), brief physical violence, public/risky sexual activity, lowkey under-negotiated kink but nothing extreme, power struggle between switches, brief spitplay

a/n: half a year to update then two within a month n then almost half a year again uh. sorry? HDFKS id probably write more often if i knew more people were reading like fellas if you're reading pls lmk!! what are you enjoying what are you not, are you siding with any characters in this conflict? are you curious about any characters or anything? what do you think about everything so far? a reblog goes a long way, even longer if these kinds of things or any sort of feedback are included in the tags/additions/comments like that's the shit that keeps me going 😩

tags: @honeybyunnies @syunderful @absentcaryatid @mingirn (lmk if you want to be added/removed!)

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You just know Stray Kids's new hit song is about you.

It’s not like you keep up with their music out of genuine interest, at least, that’s what you like to tell yourself, but merely to closely track the movements of your rival so you can strike accordingly. You can’t use that same excuse as to why you can’t stop fucking listening to it, but you’re not beyond separating the art from the artist, even if you just know the artist involved you in this directly.

The song is a fucking banger, unfortunately, and the lyrics tease and provoke nameless haters that jab at their skill and specifically their dancing, so the target is very obvious – but it’s a clapback more than it’s a provocation, so you can’t exactly have a go at them for it. Especially when their lyricism is too goddamn good.

Their lyrics gloat and brag in all the ways you highly doubt they would have the guts to say to your face, hiding behind their beats like cowards, all while rubbing salt in the wound.

They won.

The first round of the competition was exactly as you thought – none of the other bands came close to you nor them, but they managed to pull ahead over you and take first place for the introductory round by a shockingly large amount. People ate up the novelty of something new, wanting to root for the underdogs over the previous champions, and that sets a fire under your ass like no other. the renegades have to really show up in ways they haven’t before, and while you appreciate the challenge, you’ve already explored so many genres, styles and performances, switched up instruments and vocal techniques and Wooyoung brought dancing to the bands’ stages before Stray Kids did. You’re going to need to do something real controversial to take the spotlight back now.

Luckily, if there’s one thing the runaway renegades are damn good at, it’s controversy.

It gives you something to think about, and that much you’re grateful for. Lord knows your conversation with Sunwoo has been hawking over you for days, and every glance he gives you throughout the day seems noticeably more pointed, but he doesn’t address it. You don’t either at first, waiting for him to bring it up himself, but days pass and he doesn’t say a damn word.

The longer it lingers in the air, the more unbearable it gets, so when he’s staring at you particularly hard during a break in band practice, you almost throw your mic down to the ground.

“For the love of god, Sunwoo, if you need to discuss something with me you can just say so instead of boring holes into my head,” you hiss at him, making sure to keep your voice low so your other bandmates would refrain from paying attention in favour of the lazy riffs Mingi was plucking on his bass while everyone else snacked loudly and chatted among themselves.

Sunwoo, irritatingly enough, shrugs his shoulders. “There’s nothing left to discuss. I’m just looking.”

“There’s nothing left to discuss? What did you mean by you think that told you my answer or something like you very clearly have more to say that you’re not saying-“

“It was a yes or no question. You either have an answer for me, or you don’t.”

“What answer you want to hear so bad?” you press, his sudden change in behaviour since that conversation making you question everything. Questioning things like, did he put you on the spot like that because he thought you liked them, or because he likes you?

It’s impossible to tell, with him – you’ve seen him in relationships before, but he was never truly heart-eyed or smitten over any of those partners the same way Wooyoung and Mingi are, and none of them lasted very long, probably not helped by you and Eric, and for those who came later, the rest of the band as well.

Sunwoo snorts. “That you want to focus on band practice.”

“You can’t just dodge the question like that!” you whine, feeling every bit like a child stomping their foot, but Sunwoo is a very particular brand of frustrating when he wants to be. You figure that’s why you get along so well, but right now you want to throttle him.

“Oh, like you’ve given me a yes or no yet?”

He’s calm and challenging in his tone, casually knocking his head back to gulp down water from his bottle, unintentionally – or perhaps intentionally? – showing off his jawline while he does it, and lets out an over-exaggerated ahh once he’s done just to let you know exactly how unbothered he is by this topic. Asshole.

“You-“

“Pick up that microphone right now or so god help me.”

He’s not going to give you more than that, by the looks of it, and now is not the best time to press – as much as it frustrates you to admit, you do need to focus on band practice now; you were not the only ones who picked up on Stray Kids’ arguably-subtle clapback, and the online presence of the competition has been louder this year than ever before, expecting big things from the runaways after winning last year’s battle. Your audiences aren’t very big, but they are loud, and you know they’re all waiting for you to meet your rival’s challenge.

You have to beat them. You have to.

Picking your mic back up, you heave a sigh and crack your neck, doing a few lip trills to warm up while you gather your wits about you to pry more.

“You’re not as subtle as you think, Sunwoo.”

He only shrugs again, genuinely uncaring as can be, or at least visibly so; despite your attempts, it doesn’t tell you anything at all.

“Guess I’m not.”

And what the ever-loving fuck is that meant to mean, you think, but you don’t have time to voice it when Eric hits his drumsticks together to get your attention and call a practice session again.

You win this time, Kim Sunwoo, but once we wipe the floor with the stray cats, you’re not getting out of this one.

You did not, in fact, wipe the floor with Stray Kids.

Their next performance isn’t of their new song, but it’s even more batshit than the last, just as flashy outfits and makeup and props and stunts – and naturally, the song is stupid good as well. Not just addictive to listen to, but masterfully composed and written, and as a lyricist and sometimes-composer it actually makes you furious at how good their music is.

That being said, they still couldn’t play that music live, because it seems they’re useless without their sound production software.

“Uh-oh, here come the loophole patrol,” Eric scowls bitterly, spotting your rival band over his shoulder as they head towards where you had gathered. “I can’t believe they got away with that twice. If they’re really continuing with that, it’s gotta be favouritism.”

It’s the very feline face of the man in your messages that pauses on his walk past, swivelling around at Eric’s words. “You know, if you talk shit so loudly, people might just hear you.”

“Uh, yeah, I’d sure hope they do,” Eric flashes back, “Everyone else is probably thinking the same thing anyway.”

He opens his mouth to utter a retort, but Chris is quick to grab his wrist and yank him back, giving him a warning look as if to try and keep him in check. Cute.

“Lino…”

You snort.

“Lino? You actually call him that? Don’t tell me you call that one I.N guy that too…” There’s not enough time to think about whether you deliberately wanted to provoke them further, or if that was merely a knee-jerk reaction to hearing them use their stage names with each other so casually. The way they all exchange slightly guilty-looking glances, though, just gives you the ammunition to keep going. “Oh my god. You do, don’t you? Look at you wannabe superstars…”

The leader takes a deep breath, sticking his arm out in front of the others just as they take a step forward to meet your challenge. The way they all halt and close their mouths at the simple gesture speaks volumes of their respect for Chris’s leadership – that, or they’re all just well-trained dogs who will eat out of the palm of your hand if you so much as throw them a bone. Based on your interactions with them so far, you’re more inclined to think the latter – all barring Lino, of course, as they seem to call him, he definitely seemed far more like a cat who isn’t afraid to bite the hand that feeds.

“Can we just skip the song and dance this time? You’ve already accused us of being rigged to win, you got your kicks at the club, do we have to go through this again?”

You admire the visible restraint Minho is taking to keep his mouth shut, lips flattened into a tight line that almost resembles a smile. Either he’s just another dog after all, or he knows how to pick his battles.

“No of course not,” you begin, pausing for both dramatic effect but also for time to think of a clever enough response – it’s only then when you realise that you are, in fact, deliberately trying to provoke them again. They seem to expect this, feet still glued to the floor while they stare at you a few seconds longer, waiting for the ball to drop.

Well, you’ve always been more of a snake, yourself.

“We don’t have to do anything. I’m merely just making harmless observations here, like how names can often imply ego…”

“Oh, you’re one to talk,” he snaps back, blinking a second too long that you know he was definitely rolling his eyes at you on instinct. “Does your ever-changing band name have anything to deal with your ego that rivals this venue in size?”

The remaining members break out in obnoxious “oooh”s that you far prefer being on the giving end than receiving end of, making the hair on your skin stand on an end.

“Hm, maybe!” You shrug nonchalantly, thrilled at how easily they took the bait. “Having a big ego is good for the soul, I think. If you find that insulting, that’s not a me problem. Harmless observations, as I said.”

“Harmless observations my ass,” Lino scoffs, narrowing his eyes at you, but he’s smirking, and it’s a little too genuine to be one purely defensive in nature. “You’re a troublemaker on purpose, that much is obvious, I’m just trying to figure out why you feel the need to fight us so badly. Is it your little lovers quarrel, perhaps?”

He eyes Eric and Felix in turn, the two of them straightening up and face hardening at suddenly being thrust into the spotlight. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think Minho, too, was instigating on purpose.

You look back at his smug little grin, and start to think maybe you don’t know better after all.

“We’re not lovers,” Felix spits, glaring directly at his ex, “At least, not anymore. I thought we were maybe friends, but that would imply not actively trying to make an enemy of me. You’re jealous, we know, just get over it. Redirect your energy into beating us next round.”

“Jealous?” Eric guffaws, but envy drips from each syllable, and you know he played right into Minho’s hands, if not Felix’s as well. (The latter doesn’t seem as deliberately sneaky.) “Jealous of what, your flashy dancing? Newsflash dumbass, we do that too! We were in a dance crew together for fuck’s sake, you can ditch Force for your buddies here but you can’t tell me you forgot that.”

He grimaces, visibly shrinking at the mention of Force. “I didn’t forget. Can we just... not? Or are you going to provoke me until I get pissed off again?”

“You look pretty pissed off right now,” Sunwoo pipes up unhelpfully, to which Eric smacks him in the arm. He’s seeing red now, and you wrack your brain for how you can run damage control without admitting defeat and bruising Eric – and the rest of the band’s, for that matter – ego even more.

Then it clicks, the exact thing Minho was doing a moment ago – deflection.

“And here I thought you’d grown a backbone, freckles,” you sigh over-dramatically before Eric could get a word in. “Suppose that depends, if we piss you off again do we get a round two?”

“You sleazy fuckboys!” Changbin roars, shouldering in front of Felix almost protectively. “Go stick your dicks somewhere else and leave us the fuck alone, we don’t want whatever STI’s you’re probably riddled with.”

“That's not what your man said in my DM’s,” you snort, cracking up into laughter when you see his face contort into a look of horror toward you then Minho. “Pack it up tough guy, freckles doesn’t need a knight in shining armour, he can speak for himself.”

“Is that not exactly what you’re doing for Eric, tough guy?” Chris challenges, and by now, Felix and Eric had broken off into their own argument while he narrows down onto you. Just like Changbin, it’s protective, from his challenge down to his body language, almost like they’re trying to block you off from Felix entirely. Like he’s their perfect little princess who can do no wrong, while you and Eric are the dragon trying to burn down his castle. Tch. Monarchists and their rose-tinted lenses they see their pretty royals through, letting them get away with anything. At least you’re letting Eric fight his own battles and stepping in only because he asked you to, but you suppose they don’t know that. Hm.

“Is it? I was merely teasing to see if I could get another chance at making freckles come so hard he can’t feel his legs, but I’d get it if you’re a little defensive, Chris. Catch more flies with honey than vinegar, right? Butter him up so you can have your chance with strings attached?”

“That’s Chan to you,” he snaps back, something about not knowing him back then being drowned out by Changbin’s loud protests. If anyone understands the importance of a chosen name, it’s you, but you consider continuing to call him Chris anyway, just to piss him off. Unless he comes out as transgender, it’s not like he can get you disqualified for a hate crime. Just for being a dick on purpose.

“We’re not all sex-crazy like you, asshole! Minho may tease, but he doesn’t sleep around with everything that moves just for the hell of it.”

Though, maybe they can be reported for slut-shaming?

“Aw. Why ever not?” San chimes in, leaning an arm on your shoulder, but you can feel the stiffness under the nonchalance he’s trying to portray. His soft heart gets hurt in fights a lot more easily than he’d like to admit. “That’s real rich, you know, considering your bandmate puts his cock and hole on the internet for a check.”

Hyunjin, who had been sassily piping into Eric and Felix’s argument, whips around without so much as a mention of his name – if it was meant to be some sort of secret, he certainly just revealed himself just now. “Are you slut-shaming me? Aren’t you literally strippers?”

“Ohoho no, we’re not slut-shaming you, your bandmate is!” you cackle, watching as Changbin continued to dig his hole even deeper with his members. He flashes a quick, apologetic glance at the sex worker in question. Hyunjin’s brow furrowed slightly, but you get the feeling that any other reaction he could’ve had was deliberately bit back to save you the satisfaction.

“That’s different—”

“Yeah? How so?” you pry further, “That he’s doing it for money and we’re doing it for fun? God forbid we enjoy sex in this good, purist household! Pfft. Shove it up your ass, Changbin, I’d be glad to do it for you. Real good at it, too.”

“You wish!” he huffs, but that only draws Wooyoung to your argument, curling himself around San’s side with one arm while his other hand stays very blatantly in Mingi’s back pocket.

“Sure do! Didn’t think you’d be such a prude after I gave you the best suck of your life, but suppose I might’ve sucked the sense out of you, too. It’s okay, I can put it back, and just wait till you see what Mingi can do—”

“Oh, are you mad just because I didn’t beat you up last time, too? I still remember how much you like pain—!”

Fists are flying in an instant, Mingi’s much longer arms and larger frame connecting with Changbin’s face before his punch could land on his boyfriend, and just as Chris – no, Chan pulls back to swing, you lunge forward to stop him; only to find yourself yanked back against a warm, flat chest. The arms around your waist keep yours bound to your side, but other than that, it’s a lot more akin to a desperate hug than a grapple.

“Please don’t fight.”

It’s a lot deeper of a voice than you were expecting to hear that accompanies the warm breath on your neck, and that’s when you realise the one holding you back is not your bandmate, but Felix. You wriggle and slip your arms free to elbow him in the ribs, but his grip doesn’t budge, instead trying to tug you backwards. “Don’t! All of you, stop fighting!”

His attempts are futile, none of the others listening to him and you resisting with all your might, too – you’ve overpowered him once before, surely you can again. You land a other well-aimed jab with your elbow that loosens his grip enough for you to break free, but within seconds he manages to hook his foot around your legs and sweep them from under you in a movement far too swift to not be practiced.

Right as you’ve accepted the fate of your skull’s second date with the ground, he catches your arm and prevents your full weight colliding with the floor, which is almost somehow even more humiliating than if he just let you eat shit.

“I don’t want to fight you, so don’t make me. I have a black belt in taekwondo and you do not want to see me use it.”

His threat sends chills down your spine. Hearing it come from someone as pathetically pacifistic as Felix – and you can tell from his tone that he’s dead serious about it too – after he just handed your own ass to you on a silver platter, is positively haunting. You almost want to test him on it, and maybe you and Wooyoung have more in common than you thought because the idea of Felix rocking your shit is rather alluring, but especially with the audience, your pride gets in the way. You can handle them thinking you’re a cheap whore, but getting routinely beat up in fights you started would just make you look weak.

“Fine then, loverboy,” you huff, quickly scrambling back to your feet and glaring at him. Before you continue drilling into him in the area more within your expertise – words – you look up and realise the fighting had finished as soon as it started, with Minho barring Changbin’s powerful arms back and Wooyoung with a decisive grip around Mingi’s wrist, Chan and Eric bickering at each other to the side about being the bigger man. (“I’m five foot seven and a twink, you be the bigger man!” “We’re the same height, genius, but I suppose since you’re so clearly lacking the inches, sure I can be the bigger man!” You’re honestly surprised Eric doesn’t try swinging again.)

“You and your nicknames, huh? What was the last one, halfer?”

You freeze, trying to examine his face for any sort of clue that reveals whether Minho opened his big mouth or not, but you wouldn’t put it past him to make it seem like he would just to grant you the humiliation of doing it yourself.

He notices your hesitation and smirks in disbelief. “What, cat got your tongue? I’ve never seen you short on words without your mouth literally stuffed, but... I like it.”

“Do you now? Will you do it yourself, then?” you tease, itching to see just how far his newfound confidence goes. Excitement bubbles up at an alarming speed given how just a moment ago you were seething, but you find yourself blurring the line between anger and arousal a little too frequently whenever pretty boys are involved. Got to get your kicks somehow, after all – does that make you a narcissist? Maybe you are, because you can’t bring yourself to care, not in cases like this where they so desperately need to be taken down a peg or two.

Get into their head, under their skin, and you’re sure to win. They may be talented and rigged to win, but this is your scene, and you know the ins and outs of it like they never will – namely, that good music is only half the battle, and stage presence is the other. They have both right now, but the latter (which you do better, anyway – definitely rigged.) relies on bravado and ego – if you can wound it enough, their performance will suffer. Stress does plenty to nuke a performance too.

You’re going to have your fun and give them hell while you’re at it.

“Gladly,” Felix retorts, tension rising as he steps back into your personal space again. “Though this time, Eric won’t be there to stop time for you, so how about we try for a record timing, huh two-minutes?”

A surge of humiliation rushes through you, but you grit your teeth and power through it to not so much as shrink under his heavy gaze. “Tch. For the record, he didn’t tell me till afterward, either – though I still don’t think you can compare a bit of bump-n-grind to straight-up giving head. Though, wait a second,” you laugh, and it at least feels like you’re saving face. “What happened to no fighting, huh? Want me so bad it’s clouding your judgement? My, freckles, I’m flattered.”

He rolls his eyes, and for a moment you think he sees right through your last-ditch attempt at deflection, but to your surprise, he instead grabs your wrist and starts pulling you away down a random corridor with startling haste.

“My judgement isn’t clouded, I much prefer this over fighting – it’s more fun, and no one gets hurt.”

His answer is characteristically pure, despite the many impure things you want to do to him that you’re sure he’s probably thinking about too; despite it all, he’s still at his core, so good. Maybe the real reason he left Eric is because Eric is a self-driven asshole who isn’t afraid to speak with his fists, doesn’t pay for half the things he brings home and never takes no for an answer once his mind is set on something.

To you though, those flaws are precisely the things you love about him as well. That same stubbornness that makes him unbearable is also his undying loyalty; you know for a fact he would go to the ends of the earth for you and the band, and previously Felix as well. The fact that he managed to break that trust? Only proves that no-one’s truly an angel after all.

You smirk. “Not unless they ask nicely.”

“Oh?” He tugs you around a corner you’re honestly not sure you’re even meant to be in, but something about that is just as thrilling as the delighted sparkle in his grin at your comment. “You gonna ask nicely then? Gonna say pretty please with a cherry on top?”

“In your dreams.”

“I could be dreaming right now.” He cages you against the wall, leaning over you and hovering his face just inches away from yours, dark eyes drinking in all of your features up close, not an ounce of shame or hesitation in them at all. Hell, with the way he smiles at you, without context it could even look romantic. “Guess we’ll have to find out?”

“Right here? How daring. Didn’t think you had it in you, freckles,” you hum, sliding your hands along his hips and digging your thumbs past the waistband of his pants. He runs a hand through your hair, slowly, gently – then closes it around your locks and pulls, just hard enough for a pleasant sting, but no more. The action is oddly intimate in its softness, and you can’t tell if he’s just that much of a gentle-hearted lover or if he really does want to hear you ask for it.

He takes his time, tilting your head this way and that, exposing your neck to him. It’s riddled with bruises of varying shades from the rest of your band, which seems to fascinate him – he trails a tiny finger along the marks, pressing down on the particularly dark ones and flicking his gaze back up to your face to catch the way your lips part slightly to sharply inhale.

“You like it rough, don’t you?” he says suddenly, deep baritone cutting through the tension the momentary silence was building. You huff at him.

“No, I’m more of a gentle and meaningful lovemaking under the moonlight kinda guy,” you drawl, sarcasm thick on your tongue, but he just smiles again, a small one.

“I thought so.”

For a moment you think he’s playing along with your sarcasm, but the way he kisses down your neck is so chaste it’s almost ticklish, contrasted only by the way he knee roughly wedges your ledges apart and lodges itself between them, pressing up against you. He’s slow with his mouth’s descent, making you pull him by your hold on his pants closer to you, but he pays your rush no mind.

“You know, freckles, I was being sarcastic,” you inform him, starting to think he genuinely got the wrong message somehow. “No shit I like it rough, our last tryst was a borderline wrestling match.”

“I know.” He doesn’t even so much as look up at you, but his kisses do turn open-mouthed as he finds some unmarked skin around your collarbone, deciding to fill in the blanks – and somehow, it’s the softest hickey anyone has ever given you. You’re certain it’s on purpose now, and his next words confirm it. “I like it when people ask nicely, though.”

Motherfucker. “I’m sure you do,” you grumble, blatantly shoving him off you, much to his alarm. He only stumbles back half a step before you’re tugging him back in by the back of his neck, lips clashing together in a fervent haste.

His body stiffens for a moment and you’re about to pull back before you physically feel his resolve crumble, surging back against your mouth with a poorly concealed hunger for more. He flits frantically between firmly grasping your face with both of his little hands as he licks into your mouth and sucks on your tongue, and grabbing at your hips, your ass, your thighs, wherever he could reach, closing that distance as much as possible. It’s like he’s in a frenzy, drunk off the taste of your tongue and the warmth of your body and you can only think that you could get damn used to this.

“I’ve been thinking about this ever since that night in the Prism,” Felix confesses, and the fluttering feeling the praise gives you only lasts a moment before your next train of thought stomps it out completely; Eric was there at the Prism too. His ex. His supposed first love, who he left so carelessly, but is supposedly still in love with and just not doing anything about it even though Eric practically threw himself at him using you as a meat shield. Yet here he is, blabbering about how much he was thinking about you.

He really meant nothing to him, didn’t he?

He’s brimming with excitement, unable to resist capturing your lips in more heated kisses between his words, “I should be more angry at you. You’re a bit– You’re a lot of an asshole.” He kisses you again. “And I know you try to get on our nerves on purpose.” He kisses you again, not giving you a chance to reply, and his lips are too addicting for you to want to stop him. “And frankly, you deserved to get punched.” He kisses you again, longer this time, teeth grazing your lower lip.

“But?” you breathe out, snorting at how Felix places both hands on your butt at that, beaming cheekily at the silent pun.

“Oh, there is no but. You’re a dick, that’s it. I just want you around mine anyway.”

He’s so genuine and honest, even now, and you’re caught between liking it and being bothered by it, likely since around him you are anything but. You bluff and you lie as easily as breathing air, as frequently as a coffee order, and if he knows this, he isn’t calling you out for it anymore. Given the way he seems to wear his heart on his sleeve, though, it’s more believable to think he naively buys what you’re selling, and you wonder if he really trusted your pinkie promise that night in good faith.

Like a fool.

He’s so fucking good. You’d even go as far as to say wholesome were it not for him practically trying to shove his tongue down your throat, but even the way he does that seems so inherently good somehow. Like he’s happy to be here, making out against a wall with his ex-boyfriend’s asshole best friend who effectively is trying to bully him for their own ego and enjoyment.

You really don’t understand Lee Felix at all.

“If you think I’m an asshole now, you do not wanna see me if you hurt Eric again,” you mutter, and the way he stills again makes you wonder if you’ve crossed the line this time before he’s laughing in your face.

It’s not a loud nor boisterous laugh, more dry and callous, though there’s an edge of humour to it. Perhaps a hint of something else, but you can’t place it.

“If I...” he caresses your face, pressing your foreheads together, almost drunkenly swaying to whatever song was being performed in the background, “...hurt Eric again...” he kisses you, again, and were you any less violently turned on you may have even found it disturbing, but instead of speaking more when he stops to breathe, he merely hesitates a second and goes back in for more.

You hate how stupidly good of a kisser he is, and how bloody pleased you are to just keep going; you want him so bad, you want him all over you in the way he wouldn’t do with Eric around, you want to ruin him until he breaks – but part of you is happy enough just to kiss him like this for hours. He kisses you like he cares. Not like a lover, it’s not romantic. His actions may seem so, but you know it’s not the weight behind it, it doesn’t make sense nor does it feel like it. He kisses you like he cares about something, and while you don’t know what, or maybe who, but you know he cares a lot. You’re merely an outlet – it reminds you vaguely of how Sunwoo kisses you when he’s frustrated at something else, or how Eric kisses you when he just wants to forget. How Mingi kisses you when he wants to pretend. How San kisses you like he doesn’t know how to stop.

It’s not like you mind being an outlet. Arguably, you’re doing the same to him. You just hope he isn’t imagining Eric when he closes his eyes and breathes you in – not like you are right now.

“If I hurt Eric again,” he tries once more, forehead pressed back against yours, and all you see are his pretty freckles. Is this is way of avoiding eye contact? You zero in on his presence, his presence, not the absence of your roommate nagging at the back of your mind. Him in all his overwhelming intensity yet deceptively soft when he touches you – gentleness that feels like a threat.

“Then you can do whatever you want with me.”

“What?”

You expected a threat – hell, you maybe even wanted a threat, god knows you’d find it hot especially with that voice of his, but that? You hook two fingers into his mouth before he can close the distance between you again, pressing down on his tongue and feeling shivers at how he doesn’t even flinch or hesitate, simply wrapping those perfect lips around them and sucking on them all while holding your stare with half-lidded eyes.

“No, you can’t just use those pretty lips as a get-out-of-jail-free card, what do you mean I can do whatever I want with you? What if you’ve already hurt him again? Does that mean I can make you ruin your band’s performance on purpose or drop out of the contest or–“

He spits your fingers out and grips your chin in one hand, the other diving down to unbutton his pants. “Actually, I think I definitely prefer you with your mouth stuffed.”

“Hey, you can’t just say that then take it back–“

“We only came down here because I already said I like your mouth stuffed. And I believe you were asking me to do it for you.” He’s already shoving you down by your shoulders, unzipping his fly, the change of mood giving you whiplash. You hold your ground, crossing your arms defiantly.

“And I believe you just told me I can do whatever I want with you. So what I want is for you to either elaborate on what you meant, or shut up, get your ass up, and bend over.”

He outright giggles at you. “Cute, I know you want to fuck me. Go on then, ask nicely and use your manners and I’ll even say yes. Which I think is more than you deserve with how you repeatedly try to drag my team to make yourself feel better about yourself and get involved in other people’s business, but I can be generous.”

“You dreaming while awake now, are you?” You scoff flicking his chest. “I’m not asking you, I’m telling you. Face to the wall, ass out, now.”

You have an advantage here, you think. Eric has always been quite the oversharer, especially about his bedroom escapades, and while you definitely forgot a lot of it, there is one thing that sticks out in your memory – his submissive lean. How the two of them would switch often, but it would only take a bit of bossiness to make Felix weak in the knees, and your night at the Prism only seemed to confirm that. He just loves confidence and assertiveness, he eats it up and comes back for seconds, and damn if you don’t want to see it for yourself.

“I don’t take orders from you, small fry. On your knees.”

Suppose you’re not Eric, after all.

“What makes you think I’d listen to you then, halfer? I don’t care if it was technically two minutes, I still made you come in your pants like a horny teenager and you were whining for more. The fuck you calling small fry? I’m like, eye-level with that aggro, loud-ass guard dog of yours. You should put a muzzle on him, by the way, and his boyfriend too for that matter–“

“Pfft, you mean Changbin? Sure, maybe in those boots you are, but he could snap you like a twig. Heard he almost did before Lino showed up.”

“You know, I like that Lino fucker. He’s got a flair for the dramatics, and being a hypocritical shit-stirrer, even to his team and his boyfriend. You know he was purposely trying to get a rise out of you and Eric back there, right?”

He was getting more worked up now, not that the bulge in his pants needed to be any more obvious than earlier, but now his giddy excitement fizzles into something far more potent, raw, and hot to touch, increasing your excitement tenfold. As soon as he loses his cool, you win, you realise, so you make sure he couldn’t cool down if he tried, finally going along with his hand on your shoulder and sinking down to the floor and pulling his length free from his boxers.

“Hmm, too bad you’re keener than he is, I would’ve loved to take him and his boyfriend for a spin – though to be fair, they were pretty keen still,” you go on as you stroke him slowly, but squeezing him tight enough to see his jaw clench. “That leader of yours though, now he’s a piece of work. Has the whole lot of you so well-trained like pets, huh? You guys like that? It’s so pathetic it’s almost adorable.”

“How about you keep my cock in your mouth and my band the fuck out of it?”

You laugh at him, sardonic and demeaning. “I don’t take orders from you either, halfer.”

He tongues the inside of his cheek, huffing indignantly before grabbing your chin again to force you to look him in the eyes, and something seems to click behind them. He huffs again, a smirk spreading across his face as he lets his grip on yours go, patting your cheek condescendingly. “Open your mouth.”

He doesn’t leave any room for argument – not that you couldn’t make room if you wanted to, but teasing him within an inch of his life is a lot easier with him in your mouth, so just this once, you obey.

What you don’t expect is for him to spit directly into your mouth, with surprising accuracy given the difference in elevation. His hand comes up beneath your chin before you can react, pushing your jaw shut.

“Swallow.”

You hate how you already did on instinct when he closed your mouth, and you hate even more how it makes you press your thighs together in arousal.

“Good boy.” He grins at you, wider this time, then combs his fingers through your hair and tugs again, pulling your head closer to him. “Now suck.”

You want to sass him back, tease him some more, leave him hanging just a little longer, but when he speaks to you like that, even lower than the usual bass of his speaking voice, all sultry and commanding – so unexpected from him, so fucking hot, you don’t have it in you to wait any longer. You need to hear that voice of his again, those pretty, pretty sounds he makes when you give him exactly what he wants; you bet it’ll sound even prettier when you take it away from him.

You take him into your mouth, not wasting any time relaxing your throat and taking him all the way in, to his surprise – he lets out a startled yelp that cuts off as he shuts his mouth at the same time as he screws his eyes shut, teeth digging into his lower lip. Were you not deep-throating him, you would’ve smiled. It’s not a pleasant feeling, in all honesty – you’re not like Wooyoung or San, who just love having their mouths full, but you do enjoy the effect it has enough for you to be well-practiced, and once you could fit most of Mingi down your throat, anyone else was a piece of cake.

“Fuck,” Felix hisses out, gripping your hair tighter, but he doesn’t try to make you move, nor does he try to move, but you don’t miss the way he keeps tensing up at how your throat contracts around him. “God— heh, I really do like you better with your mouth stuffed. So fucking good.”

With every noise you pull from those sinful lips at each movement of your mouth along him, the temptation to have him for real grows stronger. You work him closer and closer to the edge without wasting any time teasing him, ignoring the dull ache in your jaw and digging your nails into his quivering thighs. The quicker you can edge him, the less you have to fight against your self-control – after all, you can have your needs taken care of once you get home, anyway.

He stops you before you can get there though, his grip in your hair pulling you off him and prompting you back up on your feet so he can kiss you again roughly.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” he asks breathlessly against your lips, “I’ll do it right here, right here in this hallway.”

Yes, god, please yes. Your resolve thins. “Not such a good boy after all, huh? What if we get caught, hmm?”

Every lick of logic and rationale you have in you is telling you to not, because there’s no point getting Felix disqualified from the competition if you bring the band down with him, but you haven’t heard anyone coming down this way yet, since you’re pretty sure it was staff-only and the staff should be busy with the other contestants right now, but that doesn’t mean you’re safe.

“Guess we better not get caught, then.”

Throwing all caution to wind in your lust-filled haze, you hook an arm around his neck and pull him to you, your other hand undoing your pants and shimmying them down, already dripping wet and throbbing for him. He chuckles darkly at your haste, teasing your clit with the tip of his dick, chuckling again at how your body twitches at the sensitivity from each slight touch.

“Eager, huh?”

“Just put it in already.”

He chuckles again, deep and husky and mind-numbingly attractive, but doesn’t make any move to give it to you.

“Then beg.”

Your eyes fly open, staring at him in disbelief as a surge of outrage pulses through you. “Excuse me?”

He stares right back with an unbridled intensity, those sharp eyes boring into you.

“Beg for it, and I’ll give it to you.”

You scoff.

“No.”

He teases at your entrance, watching your face for any sign of restraint, but you stay steady. If he thinks you’re going to sink so low as to beg for his dick in a ratty corridor, he’s dead wrong. You may be a degenerate, but for him? There’s no way you’re giving him the satisfaction.

“You want me bad enough to let me fuck you right here in public, you can beg for it just once,” he reasons, but he should know better than to think someone like you could be so easily reasoned with. The fact that he ever thought he could get away with it just proves you need to remind him of his place – beneath you. A boy toy to play with at your whims, because you hold the control, not him.

“I don’t think I can,” you coo with faux disappointment, giving him one last chance to quit while he’s ahead. “If you want to fuck me, Felix, you’re going to have to do it yourself.”

He senses your challenge, and knows that if he does give in, you win – and lord knows you’re still hanging your previous victory over his head. Deciding he’s not going to give you what you want so easily, he pushes himself off the wall, shrugging with feigned nonchalance. “Nice try. You’re going to beg, or you’re getting nothing.”

“Suit yourself.”

“Huh?”

He can’t hide the flash of surprise across his face as you slip away from him, swiftly pulling your pants back up and re-doing the button, walking off without a word.

“You’re bluffing. Get back here.”

He called your bluff last time, but this time you are dead serious. You don’t need him, or his dick, or even his pretty lips and sexy voice. You want him, sure, you make no secret of that – but in the end, he’s still Eric’s shitty ex trying to take your bands crown with a shoddy excuse of a band, and just because you’re a stripper doesn’t mean you’re easy.

You’ll have him on your terms, or you won’t have him at all.

“You sure like to call bluff. Too bad I’m not bluffing, halfer – I got better dicks to ride. You’re not special.”

You don’t even so much as spare him a glance over your shoulder as you strut off, and he takes a second to recover before tucking himself back into his pants and storming after you.

“That wasn’t what you were saying when you were all over me just then, or back at the Prism—”

“I basically did,” you snort, pivoting around on your heel to jeer at him. “Why do you think Eric won our little contest? Get over yourself, you’re hot but you’re nothing more than a plaything to me. And what happens to playthings when their owner gets bored?”

“I’m not yours to play with,” Felix growls, anger bubbling over where arousal once was – or maybe directly alongside it. “You don’t own me, or anyone – are you seriously that up yourself? Wow. I’m sure Eric is so lucky to have a friend like you.”

The glare you give him at that is fucking scalding – how dare he question your relationship to Eric? How dare he ecen bring him up now? He’s the one who abandoned him. Seems like he’s just like most other cis men you know – all sweet until you don’t put out. How typical.

“At least I’m not the one who left,” you spit in his face, whirling back around and pacing off without any intent of turning back.

[williamshamspeare]

ok you asked for these in an ask. Id say reblog the post before answering so that people know what the questions are. But here i go

any character you feel like applies: 32, 43, 11

ffm: 38 for techno, 15 for 312, 9 for ari, 15 for viktor, 1 for 925... and... 16 for cindy

The four welsh lads: 21. And 39. All of em.

factory: 40 for the demolition crew guy. 33 for any of em.

ghosts: 30 for... any of them honestly.

And finally... theres a bit at the bottom for questions for the oc makers themselves... C and J for any of your ffm fellas.

hope thats not too much to chew on

32: Do they have a go-to story in conversation? Or a joke? (Aehms and Smith)

Aehms would always be ready to launch into a tangent about the labs to anyone who happened to cross his path. Customers at a cafe, passengers in buses, even pedestrians who happened to bump into him on the street... Everyone, really. Alternatively, Smith loves to tell stories about growing up and living on the apple farm, and he even has a cache of apple-related jokes to those who care for that. (kinda half-brained this one tbh)

43: If someone asked them to explain their sexuality, how would they do so? (Jose)

If you asked Jose what his sexuality was, he'd tell you he's straight, but he certainly wouldn't give that answer to you straight. There would be like 3 separate tangents he'd go on to explain it, and one of them would probably involve him subconsciously promoting some kind of personal grooming product. That fabulous stache factors into a lot of aspects of his life

11: How do they cope with confusion (seek clarification, pretend they understand, etc)? (Benson)

Benson would, as he does, immediately tie the confusion he's having to some kind of paranormal activity. He'd then become hyper-focused on finding an explanation that confirms this, and most of the time be let down once the clouds of confusion are lifted

38: What memory do they revisit the most often? (Techno)

For Techno, that would be the time he was recorded having the playful "fight" that was recorded by a bystander and spiraled into the false rivalry that's essentially consumed his career. Considering how much this changed the direction of his life, he revisits this one a whole heck of a lot.

15: How do they speak? Is what they say usually thought of on the spot, or do they rehearse it in their mind first? (312)

312 has a natural talent for being casual with his speech, with his whole carefree attitude and all, but he buckles down when something gets him in a serious mood. That doesn't happen all too often, though

9: Do they swear? Do they remember their first swear word? (Ari)

The incident that sparked his passion for thrill seeking: In his grade school years, he once stumbled just before a set of stairs, jumped down the whole flight of them accidentally, and landed on his two feet perfectly by happenstance. "Damn!"

As for regular swearing, you don't see Ari do much of it unless he's having a really fun time

15: How do they speak? Is what they say usually thought of on the spot, or do they rehearse it in their mind first? (Viktor)

As impulsive and loud as he is, Viktor doesn't really have much of a "filter". That being said, the fact that he's a good soul at heart means that he doesn't often stumble into trouble because of it... But there are times when miscommunications and slip-ups put him in Situations.

1: What’s the maximum amount of time your character can sit still with nothing to do? (925)

(I gotta try and be more vague about comic spoilers now that I'm porting it all over here to Tumblr, if I haven't already done enough damage as it is) Due to the way that he now is, he has a much higher tolerance for staying still doing nothing than he did before. Soaking up the sun has become a much more fulfilling activity, both physically and mentally

16: What makes their stomach turn? (Cindy)

You know when you go to the breakfast room at a hotel and the scrambled eggs are all dry, the bread's a little stale, the fruit feels noticeably old & they don't have any of the good kinds of cereal? Instant one star review. Shame upon thine entire franchise

21: Why do they get up in the morning? (Welshmen)

I thought this said HOW they get up in the morning at first so I was trying to formulate their entire get-up routine, but now that I see the question again... I think their reasons are all generally the same. To carry on living the lives they believe they ought to live, no matter what the universe keeps throwing at them

39: How easy is it for them to ignore flaws in other people? 

With what they tend to go through, they've got to keep their guards up more than the average person usually would. So any suspicious behavior and they kinda just book it (Clyde especially has to deal with a lot of weirdies, for lack of a better term)

40: How sensitive are they to their own flaws? (Demo Crew Manager)

He doesn't like to speak much, and when he does talk with people, it usually goes south. Negative friendship Sims icon type interactions. So he's kind of sensitive about how he approaches people and what he gets from conversations

33: Could they be considered lazy?

In the context of the situation they get thrust in, they're fighting for their fucking lives (whether they fail or succeed depends on the choices you make as a player!) But in their day-to-day lives they're all pretty average

30: Who do they most regret meeting?  (Emile)

I think Emile kind of regrets meeting everyone except for the close friend group she ends up becoming a ghost with. I know she regrets meeting that one cop who stuck her in his car just before the "wrecking ball woopsy-daisy"

C) Did you have trouble figuring out where they fit in their own story?

Honestly I kind of never really knew what to do with Owen. He's kind of not really much of a character on his own, more of a prop to others than anything else... A static character, as they say. Ah well, some people just take the backseat when you've got an ensemble cast

J) Did you have to manipulate or exclude canon factors to allow them to create their character?

I've tried my absolute best to stay within the confines of the Flipverse when making my comic, even avoiding words like "Earth" and "God" because the planet they live on might be called something else & religion in the flipverse might not be like ours. That being said, I like to think there are certain constants that exist between both worlds. Really specific miscellaneous things, like the existence of Frank Sinatra and The Office

This was a fun little exercise! I know I took a fuckton of time to answer it, but I honestly wouldn't mind doing another one of these some other time. You'll probably wanna use a different list though, because now I'm closing the tab that had all the questions on it

[kuroshirosb]

hope u feel better soon X| but if u wanna talk abt ur guys! any thoughts on pokemashe kanto? if not id like to hear anything abt the johto kids :]

Hi hi thank u Neela I appreciate it lots c:

Kanto general plot wise is probably the least chaotic and by that I mean things are off the wall. It like. Seems normal at first. Just a normal Pokemon story. And then things slowly seem more and more off it’s eerie. Specifically around Team Rocket and Mewtwo, and of course timeline shenanigans that don’t get fully answered until Johto rolls around.

See, while it’s just a normal story about rivals on Red and Blue’s perspective, Leaf, feeling left out of the rivalry, gets to explore the region. And most of the worldbuilding gets told on her side while Red and Blue are out doing more interpersonal stuff that involves pokemon. Like Kanto is all about what makes Pokémon, well, Pokémon initially. Battling, reading, creating bones with your Pokémon and making memories.

Of course not everything is butterfree and rainbows, again, things do begin to spiral out of control that the main two are helpless to the lore.

Bill’s there and Mew has a bone to pick and Mewtwo sure is being made in the background. Giovanni is busy being Giovanni and eventually finds out things he shouldn’t and is working towards upsetting the universe’s less than delicate balance.

But while Leaf is running around in the background and trying to warn Red and Blue of the horrors she’s found out about, Red is too busy thinking about what his pikachu are that day and what remains of his collection, and Blue is too busy giving her death threats and asking which team she thinks kicks more ass (it’s Reds)

And things get BAD because of it as a result. Giovanni loses to Red in a raid and he’s fucking PISSED but it’s ok he has another plan (make a timeline where he wins. It’s a concept in kanto but timeline shenanigans don’t get fully fleshed out and explained until Johto). They gotta go bother articuno zapdos and moltres and they really don’t wanna help out but also the world is at the balance so I guess they can help mere mortals. Somewhere along the way Red gets fucked up but things will get worked out.

Because they all live by Blue’s words of wisdom: “Fuck it we ball”

As for Johto kids, I’ve talked at length what Ethan and Kris are about but what is going on up in Silver and Kris land?

Silver is probably the most canon compliant character. A guy who wants to destroy his shitty Dad’s shitty company. Except for the fact that he is basically siblings with Mewtwo.

Mewtwo was his dad’s creation, and while he already has reasons to hate his dad for everything he’s done, he also wants to get revenge for his sibling’s pain and suffering. He even lost his eye trying to rescue it.

He’s a lot more keen and stoic. Sure he may act like a cool guy despite being inherently clumsy but that’s just kind of how he’s grown to become. Silver is an alias after all, but it’s a name he’s chosen because it radiates the same energy as those kids who thwarted team rocket. He’s determined to become their ruin and send fear into their spine at the mention of his name.

He doesn’t kill. But he wants to be feared.

Along the he way he’ll start considering Ethan as his “partner”. Not a romantic one, but moreso in a shounen anime way. They butt heads a lot and silver especially acts very abrasive towards Ethan initially. But also they’ve taken down team rocket together multiple times and he knows he’s got his back. It’s a relationship he treasures a lot and something he’s never had, even with Mewtwo.

He and his friendship with Ethan and Lyra and Kris is the first form of love and compassion he’s felt, that again, isn’t from his sibling.

As for Lyra, she’s mostly oblivious to her place in the world as someone who took the place of another. She’s mostly kind of hanging around until she finds out. In which case everything gets ruined for her. She starts to question everything she knows and feels OVERWHELMING guilt for taking Kris’s place in the world. Like she cares A LOT. Not just about the situation but in general so it’s eating her from the inside out.

And when Kris has her penultimate villain minute, when she gets the opportunity to take her rightful place back, she doesn’t fight back because she thinks everything is her fault. She blames herself for being oblivious. When nothing is her fault and got caught in the crossfire. Even when

Especially since she shows nothing but love for life. She is the sun to everyone’s life while her doppelganger lives in her shadow. Her journey of self discovery ended with her

Even now she WANTS to be Kris’s friend. She thinks of her as a sister. She doesn’t know if she’s disillusioned with good memories that she doesn’t want to put in retrospect, or if everything they’ve been through together was genuine. But she still believes in wanting to be friends with her. Again, she loves the world so much.

And when Kris does ultimately get a body that isn’t Lyra’s, Lyra would be the first to offer her hand. She is the first to welcome Lyra back into life.

Ultimately her story is sort of Ophelia aligned; even if it doesn’t end in complete tragedy.

[funkymbtifiction]

hellurr !! i need some help with an issue ive been back and forth about with my type. mainly, what would an entp vs an intp with developed Fe look like? as well as being 5w4. i’m really struggling with identifying the order of my functions, for years i’ve identified as intp thats just a bit more extroverted than most other intps, but being 5w4 kind of contradicts that, don’t you think? then again, im still hesitant to say i’m entp 5w4.

for a bit of context, im about to qualify as a hairdresser. for the last three years i have been in an environment where i’m forced to use my Fe to interact with my clients, and in the beginning it was not easy. long story short, it basically took my entire first year to learn not only how to talk to people, but to build rapport, establish trust and form a relationship to ensure the client will keep returning to me. that being said, i think it’s kind of put me in a weird position where i can’t figure out the order of my functions. aside from Fe, i also relate a lot to both inferior and tertiary Si, so that doesn’t really help either. same with Ne and Ti. i have no idea how to figure out which is my dominant. on top of all of that, how it interacts with my enneagram. this is causing me so much pain. id appreciate literally any perspective you can give me because i’m about to become insane. also just in case it matters: my tritype is 583 and stacking is sp/sx, but to be honest i’m not even concrete on that so it will probs be of no help

Since you didn't tell me what you think Ne, Ti, Si, and Fe is, I have no way to check to see if you are interpreting them correctly.

BUT... none of this makes any sense for an INTP 5w4 sp/sx.

5s do not want to be involved with people and actively want to stay on the sidelines and not participate in life; they are the observer. Hairdressers must perform intimate acts on people every day (touching them, washing their hair, cutting it, styling it, often doing beauty routines and even waxing or doing nails). A 5 would not choose a profession that involves not only doing that, but being an "unpaid therapist" to the people who come in for haircuts (because you have to listen to people talk and respond to them).

A 4/4 wing, unless driven to create high art through their craft, would think hairdressing is a "basic" profession ("anybody can do it, so I don't want to").

A social blind would be oblivious to how they need to connect to people to establish client bases (this is why soc-blind business owners struggle so much; I have seen sp/sx's burn bridges).

An INTP being mostly in the metal/abstract thinking sphere, if pressed to get a job, would probably go into programming or accounting -- something that doesn't require them to deal with people directly or often and that they could do from the sanctity of their own home (especially as a 5 social blind who doesn't want to be around people or deal with their "too-much" feelings). INTPs don't pay much attention to Fe at all, but you seem focused on it.

You could be an ETP, but you didn't give me much to go off of (nothing that indicates cognition at all, except for being confused), so you may be another type entirely, including SFJ or SFP/STP. (Hairdressing is a sensory profession, and a sensor would automatically think of it as a viable, lasting career.) You seem too focused on how you are coming across and if you are connecting to be inferior Fe, or social-blind. I think stronger Fe than inferior; ISFJ?

Given your choice of professions, I doubt you are a 5w4, so you might look at 6w5 (strong 5 wing, but still attachment), or a 9 (in the withdrawn stance beside 5; a lot of 9s mistake themselves as 5s).

Anyone can struggle to learn to talk to people; it doesn't mean you are an introvert or a 5. :)

[yjwhatif]

I wonder what all the younger heroes plan to do career-wise once they're older. What do you think? I can't really see Bart becoming a scientist like Barry or Wally, or a reporter like Iris, so he's a mystery. Maybe a counselor like Ed? Helping kids with traumatic backgrounds? Does Jaime want to be a dentist like in the comics? What about Cassie? She doesn't wear a mask or anything, so is she a public hero now? And Virgil? Even Tim and the other Batkids? Sorry for the overload, just curious!

Sooo... for reasons I cannot explain, I am terrible at thinking these sorts of things up (seriously I can even do it for my own life) hence why it has taken me SO LONG to come up with any of this (very sorry about that)... anyway, here goes...

Careers…

(there is absolutely no logic or reasoning behind most of these - I just wrote down the first thing I thought of… and I have no wider DC canon knowledge either...)

Ed - (who is probably the easiest one) would be some kind of counsellor… maybe if we ever see the sanctuary thing Dinah mentioned in the last episode we could see Ed actually working there as a counsellor (I presume there’d be councillors there) - the MHYC certainly doesn’t seem to have much happening there anymore - so maybe that’s his next step?

Bart - definitely something with kids - I imagine he loves babysitting and being around kids who are bursting with energy all the time - he’s good at keeping up with them - so something that involves taking care of them.

Jaime - an engineer… i can see him studying in something technical but I definitely cannot see YJs jaime being a dentist… but who knows maybe he is - Greg and Brandon do like keeping in obscure comic details - like Dinah being a florist.

Traci - something with animals… I can imagine her working/volunteering in an animal shelter and having a strong connection with all the animals  

Cassie - a writer...

And Virgil - something artistic... illustrator or photographer maybe...

Again, there’s no actual reasoning behind these two, I’ve just got this image of Cassie shadowing Clark at work and cassie not shying away from going straight into a difficult story and Clark being impressed and a really great mentor - those two bonding would be so fun to see (honestly, after s4, I just want more Clark interacting with the youngsters - it'd be cool)… Then maybe Virgil could be like the jimmy Olsen to Cassie's Clark Kent - they have such a strong friendship, and I like the idea of them teaming up outside of the hero game - it doesn't have to be in journalism, but whatever it is, she writes and he illustrates to create something truly epic!

Raquel - I have no clue and can't even think of something random...

same goes for kaldur - though i feel like for him, up until the end of his arc in s4, his life was being Aquaman or serving the king/council in some way and nothing else... so yeah, no other clues on him.

then, Dick - a detective, but in his off time he goes back to his acrobatics...

and Zatanna is a stage magician.

And that’s all I got for potential professions. In terms of secret id’s, I will say i have always been confused on what the situation is with those who don't where masks who are public heroes - Ed, Virgil, Cassie - i presume they're just out and, given nothing has ever been said otherwise, I guess they don’t get too much trouble from it. I don’t know but I would really like to see what everyday life is like for those who don’t wear masks - I imagine there’s the odd selfie request… and now I have the image of Ed and Bart walking down the street when they’re stopped by someone asking if they can have a picture with Ed the Outsiders, the kid gives Bart the camera and he and Ed just share a knowing look at each other before taking the picture, the kid thanks them both and goes merrily on his way while bart and Ed playfully tease each other for the rest of the day.

Thanks for the messages anons - I hope this answered at least some of your questions…

LB

[shinraapologist]

Hey there~

I was wondering if you had any HC's regarding what a shincelty wedding may look like? What kind of decorations, flowers or music they might choose or what the dresscode may be?

I DO!!!! i think they would have a very small wedding, but almost everybody they care about is there. i think a wedding for them would come a few years post canon after all the dust of the final arc has settled and everyone involved has at the very least started healing from some of what went down. (none of these characters are ever going to like.... actually fully heal. lmao to the very idea. ) i like to hc that shinra wants to cut contact with shingen but cant figure out how to unentwine himself from his father and also is just overall too afraid to actually do it, altho we do see him slowly stand up to him more thruout the canon, so id like to think that he continues to work on that. either way, his dad is at the wedding, because theres no way in hell he realistically could be kept out of it. part of shizuos best man duties are shingen wrangling. he does a terrible job. i do like to think shinra has a relationship with kazane, i think she would be happy to be welcomed into his weird world and is thrilled by how similar they are. id like to think they get pretty close. so she's there also. ive been thinking since i got this ask about whether i think shizuo and izaya could be in the same room with each other post canon and eventually i came to the conclusion that realistically... shizuos not the only person in attendance that would have some issues with izaya at that point, and frankly im not sure izaya would want to be in ikebukuro or near anyone at all. not for a long time at least. i do think shinra and izaya would stay in contact, though- i do think izaya knows about the wedding and initially made some kind of joke at shinra and celtys expense, but deep down hes not sure if hes happy for his friend, bitterly jealous, amused by the concept of something nonhuman getting married, or any other combination of feelings.

the fact that its small does NOT mean shinra didnt drop a fortune on it, though. this is a no expenses spared event. as for decorations i think they lean hard into the black and white. also.. if we want to say cannon started in 2002, this is probably, like. 2013. its tacky. its ugly. its so disgustingly shinra and celty. honestly, i think shinra would have more opinions than celty during wedding planning (which is not helping the tacky thing). theres one thing celty puts her foot down on- she doesnt want to wear a white dress, she wants to make a dress from her regular shadow clothes. shinra whines about that for a split second before he decides that means HE can wear white and then proceeds to get a lab coat/suit jacket monstrosity made which becomes his lifelong go-to formal wear. celty would make her dress something extremely dramatic, like this. after he sees her in her dress shinra feels like an idiot for ever thinking he wanted her to wear white because shes so beautiful and so her in it. they dont give their guests a strict dress code but everyone shows up in the nicest outfit they have.

for flowers, they go all white, but they dont choose typical wedding flowers. i think they would be drawn to things like this:

for music, i think they would play a mix of old love songs and cheesy 90s music they loved as teens. there would be SO much dancing. none of them dance well.

[m1lkt00th]

rahh thinking abt how to write characters. like i dont want to just do i right i want it be perfect (still fighting against that because it's impossible)

one thing that constantly hangs me up is the ship After'Destructive'Death'Mare (Geno/Error/Reaper/Nightmare)

Error and Geno arent romantically involved, before you ask. if my words come to me properly id explain it as more? queer platonic type thing? but eh whatver

i havent really written anybody besides well... cross (whoops) so im a little nervous to write literally anybody else. ill try tackling geno first though hmm

geno's past involved witnessing genocide after genocide route to eventually ending up watching them all. so the guy became a little traumatized jaded and not including my own version of his backstory (just me projecting so dw abt it) geno is a pretty rough character. i understand him becoming more afraid of growing attached to people because well! what if they?? disappeared and all that. the guy has attachment issues and is probably clingy (dont tell him that) to anyone that gives him the light of day.

eventually, error and fresh (accidentally?) drop into the save screen. geno has no idea who these two are and is immediately defensive. he hadnt heard of any destroyer of worlds or body snatching parasite so these are just some oddly colourful strangers. after some shenanigans and visits fresh announces them all as bros (much to geno's amusement and error's horror)

at some point during this (also during life being missing perhaps? or is that way before??) reaper drops in to reap this overdue soul. geno puts up a fight against literal death but crumbles at their feet when his energy is spent. reaper brushes geno's head to kill him yknow and he doesnt die?? that send reaper into a panic and they teleport away. geno doesnt know abt this and just supposes theyll either kill him or wont. doesnt matter that much to him (lying)

error talks abt nightmare at some point and geno is admitedly interested. reaper and error are also being idiots and not addressing their obvious feelings for each (and reaper with geno) geno ignores his own feelings towards reaper and tells them to just tell error already so he can have some peace. during this reaper was trying to find a way to get geno out of the save screen with the help of knowledge (alphys). the entire thing comes out with some involvement from fresh. (not important but error has a small fondness towards ink that they dont address)

nightmare gets egged on by their boys and blue and lust probably. the whole confession is a mess with nightmare and error getting together and geno and reaper struggling. reaper and geno accidently confess over something dumb that makes them both go "finally". nightmare and geno meet over zoom call (error window im sorry) and nightmare and reaper hit it off funnily enough. error and geno groan over their shenanigans.

they have a bunch more dates like that, error making a portal to let nightmare and geno talk until they become comfortable enough for them all to just crash in the save screen. the boys dont see nightmare as much but thats okay because they have their own things going on

error works on their desire to destroy and also touch phobia. the pain they feel from touch never entirely goes away but they get better at ignoring it at times. the closest theyre able to get during their dating period is hand holding. hugs are still very very scary. turns out geno is incredibly touch starved! who wouldve guessed?? but yeah, two glitches. one desires touch while the other actively avoids it. fun

reaper is very flirtatuous with everyone and is usually taken aback by nightmare's flirts back which is always fun.

error and nightmare know spanish. error kind of always knew every language but actively practiced spanish and english. nightmare had to learn english and always speaks in a proper way(?) geno and reaper are trying to learn spanish too and i really really want to just. actually wait reaper would know all languages right? so many years might as well try to learn it right? boom, 3/4 are fluent in anything other than english (sorry gen) geno probably learned all the ways to tell someone to shut up so

oh!! error knows ASL and so does. maybe everyone else? family bonding activity?

on good days geno and error are usually really close to each other. they dont notice when they cling to each but it's incredibly amusing for the onlookers

error made hats for everyone or knitted a gift for them at least twice

nightmare likes carrying geno around.

tallest to smallest: error (5'7) reaper (5'5) nightmare (5') geno (4'5)