#this is why I don’t post my thoughts on stuff because they’re all. so. boring

[pizzaqueen]

My list of movies I think Steve would like is basically just like movies that are similar to Animal House* and also some sports movies. And maybe some Tom Cruise and the odd John Hughes/typical teen movie I guess

*he doesn’t hesitate to say it when Keith asks for his top 3 movies so I’m assuming it really is his fave??

[haveateadude]

bleak horizons ii.

summary *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ christmas and hot chocolate

warnings *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ depression, family issues, and i think that's it?? it's mostly fluff??

author notes *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ why is it christmas you might be wondering... well i don't fucking know okay??😭😭wrote this when i was in another country and it was cold and it reminded me of christmas so i wrote this. anyway. this one is boring as FUCK... just saying. i'm embarrassed about posting this actually. also, i accidentally put this on chat gpt and it gave me more than 10 things i had to fix so. don't get your hopes up LMAO

hope y'all have a great day, night, morning or whatever. take care of yourselves!!!!!!! if u don't you're an asshole.

AND THANK YOU FOR ALL THE SUPPORT ON MY LAST POST!!!!!!!!! i love everyone who liked it :)) even just knowing people have read it makes my heart warm. i really thought it would get cero recognition, y'all are amazing <3

(readers mental health gets addressed in the next chapter btw)

(not proofread either, sorry if there's any mistake)

pt1 — pt2 — pt3

i don't wanna talk about anything

i wanna kiss, kiss your eyes again

wanna witness your eyes looking

For Christmas, I go to Ellie's house, and I lie to my mother about having too much work. She says it's fine, which weirds me out. I never thought she would say yes. I’m excited and happy to go to Ellie’s house, anyway. This is important, I feel—meeting her family, I mean. She never speaks much about them, but I know she's adopted, and that she gets along with them. She also never met her mother. She says she had her aunt to teach her all that Joel couldn't, like what periods were, how to wash her clothes, and how to paint her nails with her left hand.

I think a part of me is afraid to go because I'm afraid I'll get attached. My mother never taught me what periods were and my father never seemed to know what empathy was. Her family sounds like a dream to me.

"We’re here," Ellie says with a smile on her face as she pulls up on the side of the road next to a white house. It’s got a green lawn, it looks nicely cared for, and a white picket fence. I take a deep breath, I don’t know why I’m so nervous. I think Ellie senses that. She puts a hand on my shoulder and squeezes it, which feels comforting. "Hey, just know my dad is really fucking chill. It’s just going to be us, and my uncle's family. They’re going to love you, I promise."

"Okay," I nod because I know it and that's what I'm afraid of. I look outside the window. It’s Christmas Eve. It's already snowing. I then stare at Ellie's eyes and smile. I kiss her and when I pull apart I speak. "I don't want to go out, it's cold."

"C’mon, let’s go inside then. I don’t want you to freeze in this car."

I nod and fix my hair in the mirror before I go out. The cold makes me unable to feel my face or my hands, so when I go inside I'm a bit surprised by how warm it is. Ellie makes me hand her my coat and my stuff, and she puts mine and hers aside.

The house inside looks way better than it does outside. The lights are dim, the Christmas tree has colorful lights wrapped around it, and it smells like an apple pie is cooking. It feels like an actual home, and the chimney is decorated with socks, and next to it, on the wall, are pictures of young Ellie.

"You look cute," I tell her, speaking about the photos, as she walks towards me.

She blushes, her ears go red, "Uh, you weren't meant to see that."

"Oh, stop it," I chuckle. "You look adorable.”

"I bet you looked way more adorable than me."

"I looked like a disfigured mosquito with a big ass."

Ellie laughs as her hand goes to my hip, "First of all, if you were a disfigured mosquito—which you're not by the way—I would still like you; second of all, I love your big ass."

"Oh, so that's all you love about me?" I ask, teasingly, slightly tilting my head. "Just my ass?"

I feel Ellie's hands move downwards, nearly gripping my butt, before I hear someone clearing their throat. I'm so red I'm not even a tomato... I probably look like a fucking chili pepper or something.

I know it's Joel because Ellie has a picture of him with her on her nightstand. She looks at Joel as her hands linger on my hips for a second, then she takes them off and walks towards him.

"Joel," Ellie says, hugging him. "Hey, old man."

"Kiddo, you've grown so much."

"I look the same as last month."

"Yeah, just thought it’d make you feel better."

Ellie laughs as she pulls apart. I just stand there, awkwardly behind Ellie. Finally, Joel looks at me.

"Oh, hi," he says, now looking at me. "Ellie has talked a lot about you."

I nod, "Thanks for letting me stay, Mr. Miller."

"Just call me Joel."

"Well," Ellie interrupts. "We're going to my room, I'll talk to you later."

"Okay, I'll tell you when Tommy and Maria get here."

Ellie takes our bags, which she insists on doing alone, and leads me to her room.

Her room, it's… so her. Posters of bands cover every inch of her walls, and her desk is stained with paint.

I sit on her bed and look around as she sits next to me.

"I like your room," I tell her, feeling her knee bump against mine. She's so close to me I can feel her breath on my neck. 

"It’s messy, though." She’s looking at me, but I can't dare to look at her. 

I feel guilty for not being at home now, it gnaws at me. Is mom alone? And why do I care? Why do I feel guilt over the person who made me hurt more? She always wants to fight—there's always constant battles between us, battles she always wins. So why do I miss her and why is it hard to accept?

"What are you thinking?"

I chuckle, "It’s nothing."

"Well—alright," she lets the subject the subject slip. She kisses my cheek and then my lips and her hands roam my body. We just make out, though.

Christmas dinner goes fine. Better than I thought it would. The Millers are like a real family, they talk to me like they've known me for years, even though I feel like an intruder in their house. I don't want to be fond of them, or else I'll cling to them like they're family.

Maria and Tommy have a baby and most of the night is spent with Ellie cradling the baby and me sitting next to him. We drink hot chocolate with marshmallows. This is the happiest I've ever been at Christmas.

At night, I leave Ellie's warm embrace to go for a glass of water. I can't sleep, my mind is racing and it won't shut off.

When I go downstairs Joel is sitting at the kitchen table, I don't know what to say to him. Which is okay, because he speaks first.

"Can't sleep?" He asks.

For a moment I think he has confused me for Ellie, because why is he talking to me?

"Yeah," I say, getting my glass of water.

"I won't give the 'hurt my daughter and I'll kill you' talk if that's what you're worried about."

I try to laugh, "Thanks, I guess. You're—you're a great dad."

"Well, you're a great kid."

"Thank you," I answer because I don't know what else to say. He's indeed a great dad. He's funny and nice and caring. I've seen the way he talks to Ellie. Unlike my father he doesn't look at her daughter like he's trying to fix their relationship, therefore their conversations don't look forced; Ellie has referred to me as her girlfriend at Christmas dinner, and all Joel did was smile. It made me want to throw up, even if I felt welcomed.

"Hey—uh, I'm sorry if I approach this in the wrong way… but Ellie has told me that your mother is causing you trouble."

"Yeah," I don't know what to say, again. How do I answer this? How should I feel about this? "She's been a little difficult, but you know. It's the normal mother-daughter fight, nothing to worry about."

"Okay," he nods. "If you want you can talk to me, or Ellie—she's… she's been a little worried."

I hadn't seen that coming. Is Ellie's worried?

"I—I will talk to her. Thank you."

She doesn't want you. She's your friend, she doesn't want you. She will fall in love with you, not your brain nor your scars, and when she finds out about the way you think she'll leave.

I want to say Mr. Miller but I know he wants me to call him Joel—which makes me a little awkward. "I'm going to sleep now."

"Get the rest you need," he smiles. "Leave the cup on the table, I'll wash it."

I wake up being the little spoon.

Ellie has her arms wrapped around me like she's afraid I'll leave. As I slowly open my eyes I can also feel Ellie shifting behind me.

"Morning," she speaks in her morning voice, the vibration of her voice against my neck sends shivers down my spine—in a good way.

I smile, "Hey."

"How did you sleep?"

"More than good. Your bed is very comfortable."

"Yeah," she pulls me closer to her front, "I could stay here forever."

We don't stay there forever, though, because we open presents. It's just Joel, Ellie, and me. Surprisingly there's one for me from Joel, and Maria and Tommy.

Ellie gave me a necklace and a ring, which might seem simple to others but I had been planning on buying it for a fucking long while. It always was out of sale. And the ring had a moon on it.

"Fuck, Ellie," I say as I look at her, sitting on the floor with my legs crossed. "This is amazing, I love this."

"Yeah?" She asks. She's sitting next to me, her legs stretched out, resting her weight on one of her arms behind her. I notice she looks flushed. Her cheeks are slightly more pink than they always are.

I nod, kissing her, "Thank you, thank you, thank you..."

She chuckles after I give her one last kiss, "Time to open mine now, I guess."

I look at her as she opens what I gave her. It's small, compared to what she gave me. Is just one of the first pictures we took together framed, just after I moved in. I also gave her a white silver beaded bracelet I had made.

"I remember this day," she says, looking at the picture. "I remember I was trying to impress you all day long, you know? I just wanted to make you laugh... and well, you did."

I chuckle, "I did laugh at all your jokes, but I think that's just because I have a very shitty humor."

"I'm glad we share it."

Ellie looks at the bracelet and the framed photo with a tender smile, her eyes glistening.

"I love it," she says softly, as she puts the photo down, her voice barely above a whisper. "I love you."

Her words make my heart race, and I feel my cheeks heat up.

"I love you too," I reply, my voice steady despite the emotions swirling inside me. I think this is the happiest I've ever been; I think I'll remember this moment forever.

We spend the rest of the morning together, laughing and sharing stories. For the first time in a long while, I feel like I belong somewhere.

After breakfast, as Ellie and I sit on the couch with our fingers intertwined, Joel comes over with a cup of hot chocolate.

"Merry Christmas, you two," he says with a kind smile, handing us the mugs.

"Merry Christmas," I say.

Alright, yeah. This might be the best Christmas I've ever had.

[mylovejimimi]

The Kims, your breeding problem | SJ & NJ TWO SHOT PT. 1

— PAIRING: mafiaboss!seokjin x mafiaboss!namjoon x mafiaprincess!reader — GENRE: smut +18. minors dni — WARNINGS: dirty smut (hell yeah), vaginal sex, oral sex (f receiving), dirty talk ofc, fingering, ass action, anal penetration, double penetration, lots of degradation, some slaps, a bit of pain kink, breeding kink as per request <3, some plot that will be explained in part 2 (stay tuned), seokjin is MEAN — SUMMARY: Desperate to save your empire and your name, you walk into the lion's den with a plan. Turns out those two lions had a plan of their own, and now you're the piece of meat they had been so starved for. — WORDS: almost 9k SORRY DEAL W/ IT Ok babygirls i apologize for this eternal wait, it took me a month to finish bc i like to carefully plan my craft to not fall into boring stuff or repetitiveness. I hope it is worth the wait and you all like it <3 ALSO! part 2 will be up maybe tomorrow bc i wrote everything and it was way too long and u know, i wasn't gonna post a 20k words shot lmao Anyways pslease remember you can send me a tip by buying me a ko-fi if you like my works, it will meant the world to me ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ And as always, i look forward your thoughts on this. Enjoy !

Being the princess of an empire wasn’t as easy as you once thought – but you had triple the fun you expected.

The businesses of this lawless side of the world weren’t just for anybody, that’s why only a couple families survived and thrived despite of time and mass murders. In those select families, in which the highest honor was to have no fear of law or men, one must just grow up strong and shameless to fit in them; if not, it was better to step down (which, more often than not, meant dying). And you must, at all coast, beat anybody else with your intelligence and cleverness, or else you were relegated as a mere pawn. Even worse if you were a woman.

One of the top families in the businesses was yours, which couldn’t make you prouder – because you were the one behind their success.

For the world, you weren’t particularly different from the average woman, but you had many hidden qualities that set you apart: you had money and influence, charm and wit, though most important than anything, you had dauntless drive. Enough drive to make you break rules, promote corruption, break as many families as you had to, terrorize all other elite families into submission. You had the world in your hand and you were ready to eat it.

And because you knew you were danger, you recognized which other menaces out there were as deadly as you.

“I don’t give a shit whatever you plan” your older brother spat in your face, throwing at you the documents that you compiled so carefully, all of them full of valuable information about your biggest enemy in the business. You gritted your teeth; you went to the deepest of holes to get all that data, you bought many men for it – with money and anything you could give.

“I didn’t ask for your fucking opinion, I was just informing you before you get your stupid ass in my business and fuck it up.” The relationship with your brother has never been the greatest. Being raised to be ruthless, it only worsened when your parents got old and sick, because it meant that you were now competitors for the throne. You despised him mostly because he was a useless piece of shit that only leeched off of your hard work.

“I’ll fuck it up? You would get all of us fucked in the ass and then decapitated in a public park. Those fuckers are at the top of the food chain for a reason, shithead.” You reacted violently at the cowardice of your brother, hitting his desk with your fist.

“And they are burying our business! They’re already fucking us and massacring us! They stole all our dealers and our spots on the west and south; they killed all our links in the government; they even opened their disgusting brothels next to all of our strip clubs. And you will do nothing about it?!” Your brother rolled his eyes at your outburst.

“It’s not big deal. You will think of something else to avenge us.” And he turned around on his spinning chair, ending the conversation. You were fuming, to say the least.

“FUCK YOU!” you yelled before taking the lamp on his desk and throwing it towards the nearest wall. Then, stomping out, you decided to proceed as you wanted.

…

Your shiny dress moved with the wind and blinded the security guards as you stepped out of the car that drove you. Currently, you were in the Kim mansion, the territory of your enemies, infiltrating in the intimate party they were throwing for one of their birthdays. You thanked in your head the trusted friend that popped up out of nowhere when you needed them the most, offering you a way to take down the Kims. It was all you needed, the way in, you would take care of the rest.

After the long walk from the exuberant entrance to the more exuberant halls, you finally were in the big ballroom that hosted the most people. You noticed there weren’t that many; a couple you recognized from negotiations and such, and nodded your head in acknowledgment to them, but there were many new faces for you. And that worried you, because you didn’t know which ones were the Kims. Maybe it was a little careless to go there with just a description of their appearances instead of researching more for pictures (which was really difficult since the most powerful people in the business, including yourself, didn’t show their faces ever).

Taking a random glass from the service station and bar, you scanned the room and downed the strong drink in one go, thinking what to do next. But then, your luck struck again:

“Mister Kim, congratulations for your birthday.” You spun your head almost instantly to look behind you, to the supposed mister Kim. He was right behind you in the bar but giving you his large back dressed in black. And, damn, what a back. Peering down, you also checked his ass and legs, draped in black too. And daaaamn. How could all his behind look so hot? Was it the height? Were his proportions just mathematically perfect? You hoped he was as nice in the front because it would be really disappointing otherwise.

Right at that moment, Mr. Kim turned around to look at someone that called him in the distance, and you saw him clearly, but most importantly, he saw you. His dragon eyes fixated on yours intensely, pinning you in your place, for what you felt was an eternity. You recognized his fiery stare. He was deadly.

“I don’t think I know you, dear” he started in his deep voice, flashing you a smirk. You looked at him from behind your lashes, batting them coquettishly.

“Would you be interested in knowing me, sir?” Despite your strategic flirting, you were eclipsed by him. He was tall, graceful and so, so handsome. He looked like he could be on the cover of any magazine; be the face of every luxurious brand. And as far as you knew, he was single. Manly and powerful – your kind of man. If he wasn’t your literal nemesis, you would have tried to seduce him for real.

“A sweet thing like you? Very much.” Knowing as much as you knew, it ringed an alarm that he was that easy to approach, to fool. It was weird. You decided to be careful. “Tell me, beautiful,” he said, stepping closer to you and smiling darkly. “do you know who I am?”

“I do. And I find you a fascinating man, sir.”

“Do you now?” You nodded shortly, feigning shyness and sipping on your drink to avoid his sharp eyes. You realized quickly that he was a very calculating, very analytic man; he was observing you meticulously, and you felt like a rare specimen being studied when he dragged his attention all over your body and every inch of your face.

Though, you weren’t dumb. You knew how to pose, how to talk and how to dress to captivate a man; you did it a million times already, and you had big plans for this man and his brother in particular. His lingering on your almost naked legs; how he tilted his body more and more close to you; his constant smirk – everything told you that he was interested in whatever you had to offer. Still, the deal was yet to be seal.

“You are very well-known for doing what you want and getting what you want. You’re like a god, I heard.” You batted your lashes, also inching close to his standing body. “I like powerful men – and they usually like me back.” And you looked away, like ashamed of sharing that.

“So you like danger” he stated, while moving a strand of your hair behind your ear. His hand went down your neck slowly, caressing with the tip of his cold fingers your skin.

I am danger, you thought while smiling cutely for him.

“I find it kinda romantic to give yourself completely to a forbidden man.” You bit your lip lightly, mirroring his action when you grazed your fingers on the hand he rested on the counter.

He stared at you for a long moment, in absolute silence. It was difficult to read him with his impassive face and controlled attitude. Just in case, you passed a hand through your hair, the decided signal for your guards to be alert. By the corner of your eye, you saw one of them signing back discreetly. If needed, they would fire all guns to take you out of there.

“Would you like to watch the big man at work, sweetheart?” Mr. Kim suddenly said. You looked at him with big, naïve eyes, nodding.

“Really? I would love to, sir.” He offered his big hand, which you took eagerly. Once more, you carded your hand through your hair.

His slender fingers enclosed your hand firmly, guiding you from the bar across the groups of finely-dressed people in the open ballroom to long, dimmed hallways. You knew you were venturing into the lion’s den but what else could you do? You needed both of the Kims alone, and getting one of them at the time was easier. You would seduce one and get him, and later you would find and do the same with his brother – if they didn’t cooperate with you, of course.

“You know, sweet thing, we get lots of women at our feet daily. Some are useful, some are just a hindrance” Mr. Kim casually told you. You were getting to the end of a particularly secluded hallway; the end of your walk, it seemed. You decided it was safer to keep up with the façade until the very end. “Which one would you be?” Stopping at a large, wooden door, he looked at you expectantly. You found his eyes, and even in the dimmed light you saw something shine in his pupils.

Just now you realized the energy that swam between you.

His strong hand squeezed yours and he couldn’t take his eyes off you. You bit your lip. Kim Namjoon (you guessed it was the younger Kim based on the descriptions you were given) was the hottest man you ever saw: his secure posture, his devilish expressions, even his work ethics were attracting. You would never admit it out loud, but you were really impressed by how the Kims ran their business. In no time, they build up an empire equal to yours, which had years and years of existence, and took over almost all of the city. It was really hot to you how they were fierce, and ruthless, and did whatever they wanted without a care for consequences.

“I’ll be whatever you want me to be, sir” you replied in a low tone. His obscure smile showed up again.

“Mhm, I think we would get along really well, dear.” The door in front of you opened, and a spacious and well-illuminated office appeared. It was modern and austere, with scarce black furniture a desk that had not a single trace of clutter as you would see, for example, in your own. “Hyung, I just received the biggest gift for my birthday.”

The chair at the desk spun around to reveal the most stunning man you have ever seen. Kim Seokjin had his hair perfectly brushed back to show the most well-proportionated face you’ve seen so far: plum, kissable lips; round, conceited eyes; an instant derogatory grimace when he saw you. His haughtiness was nothing; what worried you the most was that now you would have to deal with the two Kims together.

 “Really? That’s the big gift? A cheap whore?” You had to bite your tongue. You may be a whore from time to time, no shame in it; but cheap? CHEAP? When you had your own queendom and where the owner of half the city? When powerful men had died just for touching your hand without permission? He definitely didn’t know who he was talking about.

“No, hyung, no.” Namjoon chuckled. Getting bolder, he circled your waist with an arm and took your jaw to emphasize his next words “I got us a toy to spend the night, and if it is good, maybe we could consider giving it more use.” Seokjin just arched an eyebrow to you.

“I admire both of you, sir, that’s why I want to serve you” you expressed, lowering your eyes to the floor in a submissive manner.

“Serve us? Are you a fucking slave or something, stupid bitch?” The older Kim didn’t need to yell to be aggressive and threatening like a rabid dog – his words, neutral tone, and overall mean energy was enough to aggravate you. It took everything in you to stop yourself from setting your jaw.

“Do you want me to be one?” It came out harsher than you intended, and yet, you felt a slight shift in the air.

“You couldn’t handle being my slave, dear” Seokjin said as a matter of fact. “I’ll make you and your slut holes unusable after a day.”

“How are you so sure of that?” you counterattacked calmly.

“It would only hurt you, sweetheart, really” Namjoon joined in with a teasing tilt in his sensual low register and a mild push of his hips into your ass. Well, at least you could be sure one of them was interested in you, judging by the hard member that poked your behind.

“Do you really think I’m a virgin in any way?” Something burned in Seokjin’s eyes. Bingo. “Would I be offering myself to you if I were?”

“Your performance as a poor, submissive girl was shit, but I was hoping you dropped the act sooner than later.” The man at the desk smirked. You thought that maybe he wasn’t the brightest of the two.

By his hold on your waist, Namjoon walked you around the desk until you were in front of his brother, who turned in his chair and was watching you expectant, with his legs spread apart and hands clasped together. “Why don’t you show who you really are then, angel?” As he said that, he pushed you to the floor until you were kneeling between Seokjin’s long legs, inches aways from his crotch. Honestly, what was about to happen kinda excited you.

You had understood right away that they were the typical hyper-masculine control freaks. As most men you had met in the business, you assumed they would feel challenged as soon as you showed a little bit of character. What dominant, powerful man didn’t enjoy taming a brat from time to time? And thus, you would put up a little fight, just for funsies.

“Would you be able to handle me, sir?”

“I’ll fuck you up so bad, don’t mess with me this early.” You scoffed at the warning.

“But I said nothing yet, sir. Mr. Kim,” you called the other Kim, turning your head to look at him. “can I ask you, then? Like, does your brother have any idea of anything? It feels to me he is capable of words and nothing else.” Namjoon snorted.

“You’ll fucking see what I’m capable of” The elder grunted and proceeded to stick your face on his groin. “But your nasty mouth won’t be on my cock.”

Unceremoniously, you opened your mouth and closed it on the shape his member made in his pants. The cloth was very thin and he had no underwear beneath it; you could feel almost every detail of him, including his faint throbbing and the very massive girth. You let yourself indulge in it a bit – Kim Seokjin was too damn hot after all. You sucked enthusiastically on his shape, lapping obscenely with tongue and all for the greedy eyes of your spectators. After a couple minutes, you realized that Seokjin´s cock pulsed more when you looked up at him, so you fixated on him while suctioning on the place his tip was.

“Hyung, look, she’s rubbing her legs together like a desperate slut. Is your hungry cunt too empty, sweetheart?” Namjoon said from above you but you had no time to even form a thought before you felt a cold object between your legs, pressing on the apex of your legs. “Get off on my shoe, baby, let’s see if you aren’t just talk.” And he pressed even harder on your pussy. You let go of Seokjin’s hard member with a high-pitched moan when the shoe’s tip hit directly on your clit, and Namjoon, as evil as his brother, touched that spot over and over again. But the oldest Kim couldn’t let you slack off on your duty; no, he had to push you onto his cock once more, shaking your head until you got back to gobbling him sloppily.

“Fucking filthy whore, look at the fucking mess you made” Seokjin grumbled, and you confirmed he was right with a quick peek. The dark and expensive fabric was even darker all over the lap, and the man’s penis would stand all the way up proud and hard if not for the restrictions of the pants. You patted yourself in the back for your great work, before getting down to devour him some more – though, you didn’t because he continued: “Aw, look at you so eager to spread your legs for the enemy to save the family business. Daddy must be really proud of you.” You froze. Stopping all motion midair, you stared at him. Kim Seokjin smiled joyfully while he caressed your hair.

“Did you really think we didn’t know you were coming? How, if we were the ones that invited you over.” Them? Your blood boiled once more at realizing you were betrayed by one of your closest, most beloved friends.

From behind, Namjoon took a hold of you by the hair roughly, yanking you back painfully until you were looking directly at him. You yelped and grunted loudly at that. And then, the door busted open and one of your guards entered pointing his gun at Namjoon; but the criminal wasted not a second in pulling out his own gun and firing it at the intruder.

“Shit!” you exclaimed as you saw the body fall down with a thud and Namjoon took hold of your arms, gripping them behind your back to immobilize you. If only one of your men got there, it must mean the others were already dead.  “You fuckers, let me go!” you yelled at the men holding you. Struggling to get free from their tight grasp, you could only lift your knee with force, colliding into Seokjin’s crotch.

“Fucking bitch!” Despite his brother folding into himself and holding his crotch, Namjoon cackled. You felt a little proud for causing him pain.

“I see you’re not as average as I thought” the younger mused near your ear. You turned as much as you could to look at him and spit at his face. He was shocked but still grinned.

“There’s no bitch like me, you better learn it now.” Namjoon’s hold on you tightened as his tongue peeked out to wet his lips, catching a single drop of your spit that rolled to his mouth.

“No bitch like me my balls” you heard Seokjin grunt, but when you turned to look at him, he took you by the hair like his brother did previously. You catched just a glimpse of him putting a liquid onto a rag but you knew right away what it was, and so you started to insult them louder, fighting them violently. “Oh, shut up already, stupid whore.” And when the rag was over your mouth and nose, it only took seconds for everything to turn black.

…

Consciousness came back to your body in what felt to you like an instant. You groaned, opening your eyes slowly. Why did your body feel so heavy? You could barely move to get on your side, feeling your wrists tied together but lying on a comfortable bed. And why were you in your underwear? Though, that was the least of your problems.

Looking around, you found yourself in a luxurious bedroom. You grimaced at its ‘single man’ decoration though, disgusted with the lack of good taste. Was it the room of one of the Kims? It looked like an isolation room in a psychiatric ward. Well, you thought, they’re fucking insane so it checks out.

“I have to get out” you murmured to yourself, but you couldn’t even try to sit up without feeling too lightheaded. Groaning, you left yourself lie on the soft surface momentarily. You would see how to escape on the go.

“Look who just woke up.” You grumbled when the voice of Kim Seokjin entered the room. You moved slightly to look at the door, watching your two enemies getting in and nearing the bed. Seokjin smiled to you. “It’s our favorite girl.” When he brought his hand down to stroke your cheek, you tried to bit him, missing him for an inch. “Wah, you’re a feral one, aren’t you?”

“I’m your worst nightmare, asshole.” Both men chuckled mockingly. Namjoon stepped forward and took a sit on the bed beside your body.

“Maybe you were, before intruding in our home and getting tied up by us. But you seriously thought you could just walk in and shoot us up?” You held his stare without an ounce of shame because they hadn’t realized yet that wasn’t your real plan. You played along. Men in power were that easy to trick, you only needed to show a little bit of skin and act a little clueless and their ego would get in their way to make them think you’re so stupid and they’re so in control. Truth be told, you were pretty desperate to end them, but you not only had beauty – most of all, you had brains.

“Whatever, just kill me now so the fuckface of my brother drowns in his own shit.” You resigned to your possible fate with a roll of your eyes. Namjoon smiled at you for the nth time.

“No, baby, that would just be the easy way out for you. You’d been in this line of work since birth; you know we can’t just let you go without a lesson.” Your breath hitched a little when the man posed a cold hand on your hip, fondling the zone. Got you.

At this point in your hectic life, you were not afraid of whatever these guys might do to you. If it was something sexual, it would be just a short-cut for the ending you expected. Also, you had sex with all kinds of men and women, who had all kind of kinks and weird shit, so sleeping with the Kims wasn’t big deal – it could even be fun, in your honest opinion. Fun like a smart cat playing two buff, dumb dogs that thought they were in charge. They didn’t know what kind of cat they just caught.

“And so? You want me to cry and beg for forgiveness? Please, sirs, spare me my life! Don’t defile my pristine, virgin pussy!” you exclaimed in a mocking tone, snorting for the absurdity of your own joke. Not even a shadow of a smile graced the Kims’ faces before they pull the serious, mafia-men façade up. They were not happy with your mocking attitude. “Yah, is not that serious, really.” Seokjin got close to the bed to grip your neck menacingly. Like he could scare you.

“It is serious if you come with the intention of murder.” You snorted. So fucking dramatic, and for what?

“It is so obvious that you both are newbies here. We, the real crime-syndicates, just have fun with it.” Seokjin tightened his grip. “Woah, you feel threatened by the tied up, drugged girl, I see.”

“Nah, baby, we just want you to be silent.”

“I swear I’ll stop!” you replied with a short laugh. You could see on their faces that they didn’t find you funny. “Just let me say –”

“Just shut up before we really make you to” Namjoon warned with a pointed look. The frustration became evident on them; they clearly wanted you to submit, scared of them taking advantage of you. They were too used to frightening people into submission. What pair of fools.

“Oh? Why don’t you try?” you dared, batting your eyelashes at both men. Seokjin scoffed before taking you by the hair (again) to lift you until you were sat on the bed, and he got nose to nose with you. You complained for the harshness of his action, but loved it nonetheless.

“Remember you asked for it, sweetheart” Seokjin said lowly, almost in a grunt, before crashing his mouth on yours so hard that both your teeth clashed and clicked. He kissed you with vigor and violence, making it really difficult to keep up with his rhythm. Your lips ached already from the way he suctioned them. The only thing you could do was to whimper.

It was even hard to breath properly in that heated make out, so you felt more and more lightheaded than when you were drugged. His tongue wasted no time entering and reclaiming the whole inside of your mouth, and you could feel his warm spit getting into your cavity but also dripping from your lips the sloppier he became. It was safe to say that you were elated with the ferocity of the older Kim and proof of it was the wetness that you felt leaking from your see-through underwear to your inner thighs. Suddenly, the man separated from you with a wet sound, and you instinctively took a big breath quick enough before Seokjin moved you by the hair to collide with Namjoon’s mouth this time.

If Seokjin was dizzying, Namjoon was electrifying. He wasn’t as pressing but his hands seized your hips roughly and his tongue wasn’t letting go of yours; he even bit your lower lip here and there. At some point, his lips took a hold of your tongue and he sucked it viciously, while his brother pushed your head against the assaulting mouth insistently.  

“Open up, honey” Seokjin grunted in your ear, and you didn’t know what he was talking about until you felt a big, cold hand on your inner thigh, a hair away from your pussy. He dabbed the skin there, no doubt entertained with all the wetness that seeped from your panties, but the demon that he was could not give you the satisfaction of touching your cunt properly.

With a man devouring your mouth and the other holding you still and rubbing nimbly your folds and flesh, you did start feeling overwhelmed – the kind of overwhelmed where you need more direct stimulation, though. So you whined loud. Namjoon released you.

“Want more, baby?” No words were left in your mind, so you nodded. The younger Kim, with wild fire lightning up his hooded eyes, smiled big in a shark-like smile – deadly, deadly, deadly. “Hyung” His brother looked up at him, and both shared a knowing look, like they already had planned the next step. Maybe they did.

But you had no time to think about anything. Each of them took one of your knees and shoved you back until you were lying on top of your tied hands; then, they parted and lifted your naked legs as much as your damned good elasticity allowed, ending up folded in half. And, somehow, they made themselves fit in that space side by side, as large as both were.

Next thing you knew, someone’s teeth were pulling your flimsy underwear down, grazing lightly your folds. You cursed, throwing your head back and thinking how the hell did you ended up in the best-case scenario possible. Taking you underwear out of your body in a flash, the Kim brothers seemed very eager to please you – or to torture you in their own way. Whatever they planned, you had no other choice but to take it.

Soon enough, a rough tongue parted your folds rudely and licked your juices away with the urgency of someone that doesn’t want a single drop wasted. Then, another tongue appeared, but this one went straight to your clit to punish you in the most delicious way possible: whoever it was, started by sucking it fervently, petting it with his tongue at the same time until he touched a nerve that made you scream, and jabbed at it repeatedly. They didn’t spare a single gaze in your direction, and, with the way you were losing your mind piece by piece, it was difficult to focus and distinguish who was who when both their heads were down – but whoever was lapping at your labia, now circled your wet hole with his whole tongue just the way you liked, both to tease and lubricate you.

Though their attention was getting overwhelming, it was also nice, because you had been shared by several men in various occasions in the past but none of them ever used you like this. No, they only cared to get their dicks in whatever part of your body they could and get off in there – and, really, you never minded since you weren’t expecting (nor didn’t want) a romantic lovemaking night where you ended up satisfied and chirping. Business was business. The Kims, however…

“You were so smart a minute ago, now can’t even form a single word?” It was Seokjin taunting you, lifting his head from your mount and you realized he was the one assaulting your poor clit. Of course it was him.

“You fucking idiot,” you started in a breathy voice, trying with all your might to fixate on him and not get distracted by Namjoon penetrating you with his tongue. “you don’t need my instructions, you’re eating my cunt like you’re my good bitch on your own.” At that, he pressed his thumb on your sensitive button roughly, and moved it in circles keeping the same pressure. “Fuck!” you exclaimed out of surprise.

“Goddamn, do I have to force something down your throat, stupid slut?” And then, he did force his index and middle finger into your mouth, pressing on your tongue to slide down your throat. The older Kim was extremely short-tempered, you concluded – it explained why people kept talking about the violent Kim brother whenever a massacre was done out of seemingly nowhere.

You have heard millions of stories of them, one worse than the other, but you were too prideful to believe even an ounce of whatever dumb shit they supposedly did. Burning down a whole building? Yeah, right. Bombing an enemy’s car? Suuure. Kidnapping a whole family because the father dared to go and try to take advantage of them? Well, maybe that had some truth, given your actual position. No doubt, all of those things – if true – were Seokjin’s idea.

Speaking of the devil, he almost hits the back of your throat with the tip of his longer digit, forcing the ugly and loud sounds of gargling out of you. The choking itself wasn’t so bad, but his insistence of keep pushing and pushing was making your jaw hurt a little. Drool was all over your lower face and his fingers, sliding down from between them and dripping into his palm. Through your teary vision, you catch a glimpse of Seokjin’s sadistic smile, so pleased with your degradation. You made sounds of complaint between gargles.

“See why you have to watch your tone with me, dumb cumdump? And quit pushing your luck because we will fuck your whore cunt into submission.” Right at that moment, you felt a hand parting your asscheeks and something wet circling your wrinkled hole. A surprised whimper escaped you. With a short chuckle, Seokjin took hold of your face with his free hand. “Right, and we will fuck your ass too, sweetpie.” His fingers left your mouth suddenly, and you took a big gasp of air, not knowing what else to expect from the brothers.

You didn’t have too much time to wonder because a finger surprised you bottoming out in your back entrance. No easing into it, no finesse, just plain, old Seokjin penetrating your ass with his long finger as a punishment of some sort. But was it really punishment if you were enjoying it? It was not, but Seokjin didn’t need to know that.

You could feel every knuckle, every ridge of his digit grazing your tender insides; stretching you, sliding in and out with the help of your saliva on his index. You whined out loud shamelessly at the sensations, which only spurred the men to go faster. You saw it in his eyes: he was merciless.

“You like it, sweetheart? You like when we’re rough to you?” This time, Namjoon got up on his knees to speak to you, in his low, raspy register. You moaned and clenched on Seokjin really hard when his eyes fixated intently on yours. Like bewitched by his dominant aura, you nodded to him dumbly. “Oh yeah? Should we take it up a notch?” His brother got out of his way so he could descend on you and capture your mouth in another ardent kiss. His whole frame pinned you down, coercing you to accept whatever nibs and licks he was giving into your cavity – not that you weren’t willing to accept them in the first place, though.

Distracted enough by his searing kiss, he seized his chance to push down your bra and take hold of your left breast; most precisely, to take hold of your nipple between his index finger and thumb, and squeeze it. He swallowed every noise or gasp you made while squeezing and rolling your nipple until it hardened. Meanwhile, his older brother had made way for a second finger in your ass and was scissoring them to open you up more and more. All of this was way more than you expected, but in a good way.

“Please,” you gasped when Namjoon went to suck your lower lip. “untie me, please” you begged in a whine. If there was just one thing you would beg for tonight, it was for them to let your arms go, because having your own weight on them plus Namjoon’s was cutting your circulation fast. Both men stared at you pointedly. “I swear I’ll not try anything funny, I just can’t feel them anymore.”

None of them believe you; however, Namjoon gets off of you and turn your whole body over with a single move of his hand, getting off the bed too. Seokjin is quick to get you on your knees and get his fingers back into you, now adding a third. You face to the side to the night table just in time to see the younger man opening the drawer and getting out a small knife. Your heart accelerated at the prospect of real harm but you didn’t show it. It would only put you in disadvantage in front of the men.

Luckily for you, Namjoon only used the knife to cut the ropes that bound your wrists. You let them fall to your sides with a satisfied moan at being liberated, despite not being capable of moving them yet.

“Does the princess have any other request?” The younger Kim, who was the one that tied you in the first place, inquired sarcastically with a tilt of his head, toying with the tip of the weapon. Closing your eyes and exhaling heavily at one deeper thrust of Seokjin’s fingers, you nodded.

“Can you fuck me already? The fingering is getting boring” you taunted in a thread of voice, weakened at the feeling of Seokjin’s dry digits grazing harshly your insides. The aching in your fingered asshole only added to your over-stimulated body – and to add to it, you felt a sting on your right ass-cheek that spread all over your skin. It barely even hurt on your long-stimulated body; instead, it felt like electricity hitting right on your sensitive clit. Seokjin’s hand was big and heavy, and he slapped you one more time on the same place. You moaned when it echoed between your legs.

“Boring? I was being nice.” And he slapped now on your other cheek. You yelped. “I was being a gentleman and stretching you.” He hit you a couple more time on the tender and red flesh; you kept your eyes close since the first impact and whimpered but still took it like a good girl. While all of that was going on behind you, something sticky and wet rubbed on your upper lip. When you opened your eyes, you were met with the sight of Namjoon’s monstruous cock pocking the corner of your mouth. You opened it to let him in, but he was content with painting your face with his precum. “But ungrateful whores like you don’t deserve niceness” Seokjin spat – figuratively and literally. You felt his spittle drip down the crack of your ass, and then, a hard rod impaling you.

You screamed out of surprise and the pain of being overstretched; the man’s fingers, as many as they were, did not compare in the slightest to his penis. The thick and curved meat hammered into you as soon as it entered, leaving you breathless with the vigor of the movement. Seokjin’s drove his hips into you with guttural groans and wild abandon, not giving you a moment to catch your breath. Honestly, you felt a little in love with the way he was rearranging your guts – and more so when you felt the tips of his fingers wandering on your clit.

“Ah, so now you finally have nothing to say?"

You were just about to give Seokjin an out of breath but clever retort, when Namjoon took advantage of your wide-open mouth and eased his own dick into it. Gentler than his older brother, he just glided his member in and out, more so to wet it with your saliva than to pleasure himself. Despite being a heartless hit man with no morals, he saw the overwhelming pounding Seokjin subjected you to and felt a little compassion for your clearly tired self.

Taking his cock out of your mouth, he started to fuck his own hand. You stared at him in confusion – didn’t he want to use you like his brother? – but you understood what he really wanted when he got his crotch closer to your face, still jacking himself off. Keeping your mouth open, you received one of Namjoon’s balls inside, slurping it right away. You licked and sucked on it hard, until you could hear him groan louder than the slapping of Seokjin’s hips into your ass. Letting saliva pool in your cavity, you soaked his nut thoroughly before passing to the other, and lave on it. Looking up pass the standing penis invading your vision, your eyes found Namjoon’s heated ones; you just now looked at him but his piercing dragon eyes hadn’t left your face not even for a second.

You intuited there was something behind his intense staring, but Seokjin’s hand snaked, once more, to your scalp and grasped, hair tightly in a fist and pulled back.

“You’re slacking. Weren’t you supposed to lure us to ruin with a good fuck?”

Namjoon seated with his back on the headrest and his legs on each side of where you and his brother were on your knees. Seokjin, with the zero consideration he had with you, threw you sideways onto his brother and you realized he wanted you to face him now. You smirked and gulped enough air to push his buttons again.

“You’re the one doing all the work. Can’t you not even satisfy yourself? Maybe the problem isn’t me but that teeny weeny peanut dick.” You saw a frown appear on Seokjin’s handsome face and, next thing you knew, his hand was coming down to slap you on the cheek. Just like the slaps in your ass, this one stung but send waves of electricity all over your skin. You groaned and put your still weak hand on your cheek to sooth the dull pain. “You’re too easy to work up, dude. Insecure much?” you sneered.

The man’s response was to take hold of your legs and open them to fit himself. He moved close enough to your body that you felt every inch of his manhood when he grinded it roughly in between your folds, which, at this point, were drenched and dripping, and that only made the glide very slippery. You moaned when his tip aimed to your nub, hitting the bundle of nerves repeatedly. He just grunted.

Behind you, Namjoon got his hands on your breasts, massaging them almost tenderly, while his hips thrusted up a little until his member lodged between your asscheeks. You didn’t expect his lips roaming on your neck, and much less for him to leave open-mouthed kisses and a trail of saliva there where his tongue licked; you were too distracted squealing as Seokjin gripped your waist and rammed his cock into your pussy in one go. By now, after everything you went through, nothing too soft or vanilla would satisfy you enough; the spark of excitement was always missing when men fucked you slowly and carefully. You were a woman of action, of adrenaline – so you liked how he was rough and wild.

“Are you liking how Seokjin fucks your pussy, baby?” Namjoon murmured right in your ear before taking your earlobe between his lips and sucking it. He was the real menace. “You want him to fill you up? Because, I’ll tell you a secret,” If it wasn’t for his closeness – his mouth glued to your ear – you wouldn’t be capable of hearing him due to the smacking of skin with skin and the blood that was rushing in your ears. “That’s all he thought about since he found you.” Through half lidded eyes, you looked up at the older man while Namjoon kept talking. “Fill you until you were gushing with his cum. Mark you as his bitch, he said.” He cupped your breasts and played with both your nipples, but you couldn’t even close your eyes at the feeling because you couldn’t miss even a second of the sight Seokjin was.

You didn’t really like him like that, but it was undeniable that he was one of the most beautiful men you have seen – now more than ever. His face was flushed and glowing, with a drop of sweat down his side; his full and bitten-red lips a little open in a panting; his cold stare down to you, judging you, hating you, and yet, fucking you franticly… And you haven’t even started on his god-like body. If you had to be attracted to someone, it would be someone like him: heartless, vain, profane. Someone not afraid of wanting, not afraid of taking.

“And, you know? Good bitches have to be bred.” Out of a sudden, Namjoon had his fingers shamelessly torturing your clitoris. You squeeze Seokjin’s member and moaned in a high-pitch, feeling your insides tightening fast. “That’s why we brought you, to stuff you with cum until our bitch is well bred– fucked until you beg to be filled over and over again.” Your breath shook as a result of his words, and your core was clenching until the point of no return. Just then, the older Kim reangled himself and penetrated you deeper, nudging all your hot insides with the tip of his long cock. “Would you like that, sweetheart? For us to put a baby into you? To fuck you until you´re round and can do nothing but take our cocks in all your holes all day?” The speed of his digits on you increased, rubbing past the hood that covered you most sensitive part. You cried when he started touching directly on the nervous nub. “Come on, baby, I know you want it. Beg for it.”

“Ye-yes” you exhaled, overwhelmed with sensations. You were so close that anything you heard sounded hot and cum-inducing. Being reduced to a bearing slave and a hole to warm their cocks? Hell yeah. “I wa-want you to – want you to b-breed me. Please!” With a sharp movement of his index finger, Namjoon made your tense core snap. You cried louder when your climax hit you all at once; your cunt tensed and gripped Seokjin like a vice, while all blood flushed down south of your body and electricity ran all on your clit, folds and thighs. For a second, everything was white and muted, and Seokjin’s clash with your body prolonged your climax, sending wave after wave of more electricity. “Please, breed me. I’m your bitch, cum in me, please” you murmured in the middle of ecstasy. You couldn’t keep your mouth shut normally, much less in that mind-altering moment.

Seokjin stopped for a moment, releasing your legs, though you didn’t realize it until you felt his tongue forcing his way into your mouth. You had no energy to kiss him back, but it was not needed; he took your jaw and forced your lips to apart with his. Once again, he licked all inside your cavity, brushing your tongue with his and sucking each of your lips until they were red. You let him do as he pleased, and it even felt quite nice to make out so passionately after cumming so hard.

However, none of the men had cummed yet. Still hazed, you felt strong arms hooking under your knees and lifting you, causing you to circle your arms around a neck to avoid falling. You hugged yourself to Seokjin while he got up from the bed and stood on the floor beside it – cock never leaving your pussy. Focusing again on reality, you felt the heat of Namjoon’s body behind you when his skin sticked to yours. With an extraordinary strength you didn’t know he had, Seokjin moved your body up on his standing dick and down until he bottomed out. From this upright position, gravity naturally made your body go lower and the thick penis go deeper. You whined from overstimulation.

“Shush, whore. Didn’t you wanna be bred? This is how filthy whores have their cunt filled” the older brother grunted. You whined louder like the brattiest of brats just to annoy him. At this point he could only roll his eyes to you. Though your fun didn’t last long – next time Seokjin pulled you down, you found yourself filled to the brim suddenly.

It took a little patience and team work from all parties to make both of them fit into your pussy at the same time. You whimpered for real the whole time, closing your eyes tightly, because you were stretched to the limit, and despite having done this before, it was never with two cocks that large. Between shaky exhales, you felt Namjoon tonguing at the spot under your ear and nibbling his way to the base of your throat.

“Holy shit, it’s better than I thought” Seokjin groaned, half lidded eyes posed on your strained face. “Do you like your cunt stuffed like this, baby?” He saw the intention to clapback when you barely opened your eyes, so he thrusted the tiniest bit up to tear a yelp off of you. He admitted to himself that he kind of admired your tenacity; you came this far and never once had you showed the littlest trace of fear or regret – no, you kept pushing and challenging them even in that moment. It really was admirable how far you would go for your fortune.

Finally, you felt yourself reaching the base of their penises, with much, much effort. You couldn’t think, much less utter a single word from how overwhelmed you felt. All you could do was gasp and gape like a fish, digging your fingers on Seokjin’s shoulder – who was enjoying every second of your helplessness. Having you at his mercy was all he had thought about for years, and all he had needed was patience and time. And there you were.

“You turned out just a meek kitten, baby” Namjoon commented on your left ear, swiveling his hips slowly into you. “I don’t like proving Seokjin right and I told him he was fucking crazy with this stupid plan, but here we are.” Both of them secured their hold on your legs, and just like that started moving taking turns; each time one was out, the other penetrated you with a hard thrust.

“Told you this dumb whore would fall for it” Seokjin grunted, looking down at the place where all three of you connected. “She thinks running a business is fucking people and that’s it. ‘Cause that’s how you made your way to the top, right? There’s no other way for you to get anywhere, as useless as you are.” Seokjin was really, really into degrading you. He spat his words to your face with the utmost disgust, pounding into you harder whenever he said something demeaning. “You’d been a disgusting slut since daddy gave you the wheel, hadn’t you? Letting anybody use your cunt, dripping everywhere you go with any bastard’s cum.”

Now they were really getting into it – and so were you. Heat stirred up in your core again and you found yourself panting and whimpering, needing more. You opened your glazed eyes and focused on Seokjin, expecting he catches up the silent begging. He did, but he would make you suffer before anything.

“It was going to be a surprise, baby, but your beautiful, tortured face is weakening me a little so I’ll tell you.” Still shaking you everywhere with their pounding, the older of the brothers got his mouth on the juncture of your neck and shoulder, and he bitted hard enough to hurt. When he heard you scream, he sucked the tender spot and laved his tongue on the dents he left, before getting right by your right ear to talk. “You’ll stay here with us. We will shoot your brother, steal your kingdom and make everything, including you, Kim property.”

Namjoon fucks into you at the last sentence, not waiting for his brother to be fully out. You shout as he fills you suddenly; the pressure of his entire cock inside of you, alongside the half Seokjin didn’t get out, got your whole body quivering. A collective gasp echoed in the room, and after that, the smacking of skin with skin resumed.

“You know what your future here holds, baby? It was true, we will knock you up,” Namjoon’s satin voice paired with his ramming into you every time he said will made goosebumps run up your spine and your insides to tighten. “We will make you bear our children, and we will make you tend to them only for the rest of your life. What about that, baby? The great mafia princess lessened into a breeding machine, good for nothing but popping out our babies.”

After hearing his brother, Seokjin begins fucking into you rougher, more urgent, moving one hand to your throat so you won’t look anywhere but at him as he fucks you. Sweat was making it difficult for you to keep your hold on his strained biceps so, in a particularly hard thrust, you sank your fingers, nails and all, deep onto his skin with a moan. Both brothers bang into you together, cocks heedlessly slamming and dragging over your walls, their pace picking up as they jackhammered into your pussy at the same time, into the same spot. They were rubbing your insides raw; sensitive skin swollen and unbearably tender, way past the point of pain and pushing into pleasure.

“This is your life now, sweetheart” Seokjin panted on your face, now holding you by the jaw. “Get used to being my bitch because I’ve been waiting for too long to fuck” he thrusted up with force. “my seed” His brother caught on his rhythm and now you had to cocks punctuating every word with rough movements. “into you.” With one last pound of the two members, filling ridiculously stretched and overly sensitive inside and out – and with a single stroke of Namjoon’s magic fingers on your clit – you tip over the edge. You scream, your muscles tense everywhere like a rubber band before releasing all at once, and both men keep fucking you despite you blacking out for a moment.

Fucking themselves into you, both brothers knew they wouldn’t last much longer given how you clenched around them, your walls throbbing alongside their cocks. Unable to hold out anymore, Namjoon groans low, hips getting sloppier as he started pumping his come deep into you. It just took Seokjin one more spasm from your cunt to moan loud and long and come beside his brother, white ropes filling you up as both of them continued to fuck every last drop inside. White, liquid cum seeped from your pussy and between their joined members to their thighs. All of your chests heaved in and out to catch your breaths, and just then they realized you let yourself fall onto Seokjin, body liquified and mind still out there.

[ateezscupid]

mingi smut 46,57

46. “can you feel how much I want you?”

57. “please, don’t ever stop!”

ATEEZ PROMPT FEST

seductive ✩ mingi 𝗑 f!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

plot - mingi’s horny after work !!

genre + warnings - smut, fluff and overall crackhead energy, switch!mingi, switch!reader, oral, dirty talk(?), praise, mingi’s being a cute whiny baby in this one

wc - 1.28k

tags - @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna check pinned post for tag list info!

“mingi!” you call out from your bedroom window. you just saw him leave his car and now he’s walking into the building. he heard your voice from down below and waved. seeing you made him feel better after going through hours of work.

you jump out of bed and run out of your shared bedroom, skipping to the door opening it. just as he turned the corner in the hallway, you were peeking your head out waiting for him. you squeal in excitement and dart out, running down the hallway and jumping into him. he dropped his bag and wrapped your arms around you.

“i guess you missed me?” mingi looks at you. “you haven’t run out and hugged in a long time.”

“i missed you so so so much, i was bored!” you pout. “but you’re home now so i feel better! how was work? was everyone annoying? did you get stuff done? did you guys have a pizza party?”

“y/n, we don’t really bring food into the studio. i mean, we had a few donuts and chips. and before you ask, yes, i did save you some.” mingi kissed your cheek.

he sets you down and picks his bag up again, putting his arm around your shoulder and walking back to your apartment. once you two went inside, he threw his bag on the couch then plopped down next to it. you were always confused to why mingi would come home worn out. all he did was stay in a studio? what could be he doing that makes him this tired?

“do you want a massage or something? you’re always so exhausted whenever you come home. now that i think about it, why are you so tired when you come home?”

“i have to repeat the same lines over and over again, baby.” he groans as he sat up. “and i go there early in the morning. i cant sleep while i’m there, and if i do, it’s only for ten minutes.”

“aw,” you coo, strolling over to the couch and sitting next to him. “poor min. do you want something to eat? will that make you feel better?”

“no,” mingi looked you up and down, leaning into you and pushing his face into your chest.

“mingi, no.” you tilt your head. “you’re always horny whenever you come back from work, can’t you take a break?”

“how the hell did you know i was horny?” his eyebrows raise.

“you always push your face into my tits when you’re horny.”

“no i don’t!” he scoffs sarcastically. “i grab your thigh when i’m horny. they’re two completely different actions, i don’t know how you messed that up. and i thought you loved me!”

“mingi, shut up, i do love you! but you need a break, my legs are still worn out from yesterday.” you okay with his hair gently.

“they didn’t seem worn out when you ran up and tackled me like a quarterback in the hallway.” he muttered as he glared at you. you roll your eyes playfully.

“why are you glaring at me?” your head tilts.

“i’m hoping you’ll spontaneously combust.” mingi says jokingly. you push his chest and stand up, but he pulled you back down onto the couch. though this time, you were on his lap.

“okay, let’s make a deal.” you turn to face him. “if we do have sex, i wanna be in charge.”

“what? you cant even get on top of me without being embarrassed, so how are you gonna take charge?”

you narrow your eyes and place your hands on his shoulders, turning around completely and straddling him. you push him back against the couch cushions and bring your hand down to his sweatpants, which were tightening around him because of his boner. you chuckle slightly and rub slowly, earning a hushed moan from him.

“dude, how are you moaning and i just touched you?” you smile, leaning forward and kissing his cheek. “i just wanna try topping for once.”

“can you feel how much i want you?” he whispers, thighs shaking slightly. “oh fuck me,”

“shush, that’s what i’m trying to do.” you felt his raging boner through his pants, and it almost made you want to drool. his size never really intimidated you, it only excited you, and he was aware of it. you’d always be excited to suck him off or jerk him off when he asked you to. it was fun hearing him groan knowing you were the one bringing him pleasure.

you pulled his pants and boxers down just enough for his cock to come out. you didn’t expect it to be all red and veiny; pulsing, in need of someone to touch it. he was in the studio all day, so to see him this hard kind of surprised you. you grabbed onto it with your palm, causing mingi to flinch and throw his head back.

“eyes on me.” you demand, using your free hand to grab his chin and pull his head back down. you gently start to stroke him, squeezing whenever you got to the top to play with his tip.

“fuuck,” mingi groans, hands grabbing onto your backside. “please, i’m so hard. it hurt so fucking much to walk.”

“i bet it did, huh?” you bring your hand down, now using both hands to stroke him. you twist and turn your hands, looking down for a moment to spit on it and continue your movements. mingi didn’t know where to put his hands. he was grabbing onto you, then the couch, then your thighs, he was everywhere.

“oh fuck, shit shit shit, where the hell did you learn to do this!” he looks at you, eyes puffy and lips swollen, aching for you to kiss them. you lean forward and peck him on the lips.

“i watched a few videos to prepare for this very moment.” you say as you scoot off his lap and get down on your knees in front of him, now shoving his cock into your mouth.

“good fucking go—fuck, i feel like cumming!” mingi whined as his hips bucked up a few times. he was falling apart and struggling to hold himself together in front of you, which made you want to keep going. you continue to stroke and suck him off at the same time, earning all types of pornographic sounds to come from mingi’s mouth.

“y/n—y/n, slow down,” he sucks in a breath. the urge to cum was gradually increasing and it was bubbling in his stomach, like butterflies flying all over the place.

“y-y/n, i’m—“ he stammers, chest heaving up and down. “f-fuck, please, don’t ever stop! don’t fucking stop, ah—“

mingi’s hand goes to grab a handful of your hair, pulling like his life depended on it. your nails dug into his thigh but he could care less. all he was thinking about was cumming into your mouth.

“please, please, please,” he begged. mingi begged. that was the most attractive thing you’ve ever heard him do. you bobbed your head faster, which helped him reach his breaking point.

“oh god, oh fucking hell, stop stop stop, shit, i’m cumming—i’m-“ his body twitches as he dumped his load in your mouth, shameless moans leaving him. you help him ride out his orgasm as you slowed your movements, slightly overstimulating him and making him whine. you take your mouth off and let go, swallowing everything and not leaving a drop.

“that was fun, right?” you giggle. “you did so good, you sound so adorable when you moan! you should do it more often!”

“oh, shut up.” he blushed from your words. “but, it was…nice. thank you, love.”

[lovelyhan]

— underlying pretense (a teaser) ⟢

pairing: wonwoo x reader

summary: being two of the most popular streamers across the board, your subscribers often speculate if your constant bickering with wonwoo has some underlying pretense. little did they know, the two of you have everything on display on a single, unsuspecting twitter account. 

word count: 1k words

tags: fuck buddies, not quite enemies to lovers but it's the thought that counts, streamer!wonwoo, streamer!reader, smut

warnings: wonwoo n reader run a shared p0rn account bc they're fllthy like that, graphic sexual content (minors dni!!)

notes: no hardcore smut tags needed just yet, but do Not interact with this post if you're a minor, still.

Wonwoo doesn’t make it a habit to watch your streams for two reasons. 

The first is because you’re one of his tightest competitors in the streamer market. Giving you even a single view means that he’s contributing to your rise in popularity, which is very much detrimental to both Wonwoo’s pride and his career. 

Not that someone who only plays boring open-world games can easily dethrone one of the most renowned competitive players on the platform, but he learned the hard way to never underestimate the charms of a cute girl who knows her way around both technology and the wallets of her subscribers.  

The second reason is…somewhat related to the first.

They’re all hanging out in Seungcheol’s apartment when Vernon opens up a Twitch stream to watch. Wonwoo is in the middle of a petty but intense Fruit Ninja competition with Mingyu on their phones, so he doesn’t get to see which streamer he’s watching. Vernon is the type that likes to give newbies a chance, though, so at that moment, Wonwoo couldn’t really care less.

But when he hears a familiar, high-pitched voice dish out her opening tagline for every stream, even Mingyu notices the way Wonwoo's face scrunches up with distaste.

“Can’t believe you pulled a Koyahngi and Chill while Wonwoo’s in the same room,” Seungcheol laughs when he returns with some beer. “We all know he’s allergic to the sound of her voice.” 

“Hey, I think it’s cute,” Vernon says. “Her outfit is, too. Look.”

Wonwoo, still stewing in his annoyance, doesn't move an inch, while Mingyu scoots closer—glancing over Vernon’s shoulder before letting out a wolf whistle.

“I really don’t see the benefit to playing Stardew Valley in maid-cat girl fusion cosplay, but at least she’s still in theme—oh, shit.”

Seungcheol looks at him once he settles himself on the sofa as well. “What’s wrong?”

“My phone died while I was in the middle of a game,” Mingyu whines. “Wonwoo-hyung, lemme borrow yours. We still haven’t decided who’s buying takeout tonight.”

While Wonwoo would’ve normally responded by scoffing at Mingyu to just borrow a charger from Seungcheol, he completely ignores him—stern eyes glued to his phone as he types away at rapid speed. The moment he hits send, Wonwoo hears a soft chime ring over Koyahngi’s lo-fi background music. 

You pause for a moment from whatever introductory segment you have planned and tell your viewers you’re just going to answer a text. Wonwoo’s friends are none the wiser when he receives a reply the moment you put your phone back down and interact with the chat.

🐈‍⬛: What did I say about wearing that outfit?

🐈: hmm, can’t remember :P

Fucking brat.

“Hyung?” Mingyu calls out after emerging from Seungcheol’s room—presumably to hunt for a charger—when he spots Wonwoo already halfway to the door. “Where are you going?” 

“Friend’s having set-up problems. He texted me asking if I could come over and take a look,” he reasons calmly as he slips his shoes back on. “I’ll head back here once I’m done.” 

Seungcheol pouts at him. “You better! Mingyu over here told us you’ve been busy with some girl, that’s why you couldn't hang out with the boys anymore.”

Vernon glances behind him to shoot Wonwoo an incredulous stare. “Wonwoo-hyung? With a girl? You’re not just making stuff up, right?” 

Mingyu immediately springs into action, blabbering something about how Wonwoo isn’t the heartless prude people thought he was, but Wonwoo really doesn’t give two shits about how his friends perceived his sex life. In fact, he was more interested in what’s playing on the screen of Vernon’s iPad—the view now unobstructed because the youngest has deigned to move away.

Again, the second reason why Wonwoo doesn’t watch your streams is related to the first. 

You’re literally his tightest competitor, but when he sees you all dolled up in your stupid fucking catgirl outfits, he’s suddenly no different from the degenerates vying for your attention in the chat.

And there is nothing else that Wonwoo hates more than being thrown off his game like that.

Funnily enough, he’s reminded of the very thing that started this constant back-and-forth he’s been toeing around with you for a better part of the year when he slips into the driver’s seat of his car. Just before he can drop his phone into one of the cup holders on the middle console, a Twitter notification lights up on screen. 

Wonwoo would’ve thought it was from the account dedicated to interacting with his viewers outside of streams. He’s got a decent number of followers there after all. Except the notifications for his official Twitter account have long been muted because of the massive online traction his tweets gain everyday. 

No, this one’s from another account entirely.

He feels no shame, opening up the most recent video you put up. What he does feel is a sick sort of pride at the sheer amount of engagement that the video received overnight—those faceless Twitter accounts in the replies looking for other desperate fucks to recreate it with. 

This is one of Wonwoo’s favorites. Part of the select few that he actually deigned to keep hidden in the gallery of his phone for…future use. He can barely contain his own heady arousal as he watches the same clip he took with his own camera the previous night. 

Those desperate little noises you made. The way your body writhed while getting a good dicking down. And how you were so fucking eager to slide Wonwoo’s cock back inside your cunt after having him cum all over your tits. 

Seeing you wearing the same goddamn fishnet bodysuit beneath your stupid maid costume on the stream not only made him pop a hard-on in the middle of boys’ night, but also called for drastic interventions, so to speak.

🐈‍⬛: Finish up that stream asap. I’ll be there in 20. 

🐈: fuck you, i just started 5 minutes ago

🐈‍⬛: You know I don’t like it when you talk back, right?

🐈: fine

🐈‍⬛: What?

🐈: …yes, daddy

🐈‍⬛: That’s what I thought.

end notes: hehe i hope you like it so far! i think it will take me a While to finish this, and i didn't want the blog to go stagnant for too long, so i thought, eh, why not post a teaser? edit: thank you for giving the teaser some love! the full fic can now be found here!

[star-writes-sometimes]

bullying and cuddles

word count: 2.3k

cw: fem reader, reader implied to have anxiety cause im projecting, swearing, bullying (affectionate), fluff, idiots in love, probably ooc tangerine but whatever

a/n: i needed domestic fluff, is this similar to other stuff ive written? yes but i dont care i love domestic fluff. i geniuenly was debating posting this because i kinda hate it but yknow c'est la vie

---—---

you emerged from the safe house bathroom after brushing your teeth in an old tshirt and pyjama shorts. both of the boys bedroom doors were closed and you could hear the thomas the tank engine theme song coming from lemon’s room. 

the door of your room was open and your suitcase was on the ground, clothes messily thrown all over the place. you had been here for about four days now so you were settled in as much as you could be in a new environment.

you and the twins were staking out a place and it was long and tedious, by this point you were thoroughly bored and ready for this to end so you could go back home. you couldn’t stand another night in the cold unfamiliar bed. 

so, instead you knocked on tangerine’s door.

“come in.”

you opened the door and walked in, quickly shutting it behind you and leaning against it, facing tangerine. he was sat up in his bed reading a book. he was wearing a plain tshirt and pyjama pants. he looked comfy, more relaxed than he usually was. the quilt was folded neatly at the end of his bed and his suitcase on the floor was immaculately organised, a stark contrast to how your room looked.

“hi,” he said smiling at you.

“hi,” you returned the smile.

“cute pyjamas.”

you were wearing a faded marvin the martian tshirt and pyjama shorts covered in little oranges, “they’re oranges.”

“you sure you didn’t wear them just for me, love?” he smiled wider at you, cocking his head to the side slightly, “cause you look adorable.”

“why would i wear them for you, you’re my third favourite person in this house,” you scoffed.

“are you putting yourself above me?”

“i know my worth,” you squinted at the book he had in his hands, “whatcha reading?”

“uhh,” he glanced down at the page he was on, “the hunger games.”

“really?” 

“why are you surprised?”

“i don’t know,” you laughed slightly, “i can only image you reading old or pretentious books.”

“are you calling me pretentious?”

you snapped your fingers in realisation, “tolstoy, you seem like the tolstoy type have you read anna karenina?”

“well, yes i have but i don’t just read old books.”

“so, hunger games.”

“yeah, it’s good criticism on violence in capitalistic societies.”

“i don’t think professional assassins should have a say on violence in capitalistic societies.”

he rolled his eyes, “then i enjoy the commentary on consumerism.”

you glanced at the gold jewellery on the bedside table, “i don’t think you can have a say on that either.”

he followed you eye line, “oh fuck off.”

you laughed, “i’m sorry, i’m sorry.” you shifted around slightly in your spot against the door.

“did you come in here for a reason or just to take the piss out of me?”

you thought back to your lifeless room, “i was bored and i couldn’t annoy lemon.”

“why not, you’d probably enjoy his company more than mine,” his eyes drifted back down to his book.

“he’s watching thomas and there’s only so much of that i can take.”

he nodded, “understandable.”

there was a pause and you fidgeted with your hands nervously. you didn’t notice tangerine staring at you intently, contemplating what he should do.

“come sit with me,” he gestured to the empty spot next to him.

“are you sure?” you hesitated, bringing up your hand to chew on your nails.

“‘course love.”

you slowly moved over and sat on the bed next to him, keeping distance between you both on the queen sized bed.

it was silent again and you pulled your knees up against your chest, resting your chin on your knee.

“what part are you up to?” you asked.

“the interviews with caesar.” he turned his head and focused on you, noting your position and the gap you put between the both of you, “have you read it before?”

“back when i was a teenager but not since then.” you avoided his eyes, feeling anxious about the sharp eye contact, “have you read it before?”

“yeah, i’ve read it a few times.”

you just hummed in response. despite the nervous thoughts running through your head it felt better being in here with tangerine than being alone in your room. it was better having anxiety over being alone with the guy you were crushing on than the emptiness you would have felt by yourself in your room. 

“come here love.” he said softly.

“what?” your eyes snapped up to him.

“sit next to me properly.” 

you moved slightly closer, still leaving space between you both.

tangerine rolled his eyes and put his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side, “i’m not gonna fucking bite ya love, you can sit next to me.”

you scrunched your nose up at him, “i just didn’t want to get cooties.”

“you think i have cooties?”

“yup you have phytophthora gummosis.”

“what the fuck are you talking about?”

you laughed and leant into him more, “it's a disease that affects citrus trees.”

he tried not to smile, “how long have you been waiting to make that joke.”

���a few weeks,” you smiled brightly, “i did research on citrus trees.”

“just so you could take the piss out of me?”

“i had to, you look cute when you’re all annoyed and scrunch your eyebrows up.” you reached up and run over one of his eyebrows with your thumb.

“don’t call me cute.”

“why not? you are.”

“i’m meant to be intimidating.”

“how could anyone be scared of you? you’re reading the hunger games.”

“very funny, i can be scary and enjoy the hunger games.”

“are you team peeta or gale?”

“definitely peeta, he was smart and a romantic,” tangerine said, like he had thought about it a lot before.

“oh so you’re a romantic that adds to your scariness.”

“you’re bullying me, you’re a bully,” he pinched your side, enjoying the way you squirmed into him.

you yawned and put your head on his shoulder. he repositioned his arm that was around your shoulder and started stroking your hair.

“are you tired darling?”

you blinked sluggishly, “yeah… i should probably go-”

you started to get up but was stopped and cut off by tangerine.

“no, stay,” he held onto you, “you just relax.”

you bite your lip anxiously but try to relax into him again. you stared at the book in his hand, studying the mockingjay symbol on the cover. 

“what’s on your mind pet?”

you felt your neck heat up at the unfamiliar nickname, “uh can you maybe read to me?”

“you want me to read to you?”

you nodded.

“you sure you’ll be able to understand with the accent?”

“you’re british not an alien, i can understand you fine.”

“okay.” he pulled you close, you settled with your head on his chest and his arm comfortably around you. he smiled down at you, silently grateful that you couldn’t see the way he was looking at you, “you ready?”

“yeah,” 

“okay darling,” he took his focus off you and onto the book, “i’m still in a daze for the first part of peeta’s interview. he has the audience from the get-go, though; i can hear them laughing, shouting out. he plays up the baker’s son thing, comparing tributes to the bread from their districts.”

“what would your strategy be in the interviews?” you asked.

“i’m not sure.”

“i don’t think you could pull off the charming thing.”

“wow, thanks love your doing wonders for my self esteem,” he replied sarcastically.

you smiled, “no that’s not what i meant, you’re plenty charming, i just think you’d be better as one of those career tributes everyone is scared of.”

“i thought you said i wasn’t scary?”

“shhh that was minutes ago you should’ve forgotten about that by now, just keep reading.”

“right sorry,” he laughed slightly, “then he has a funny anecdote about the perils of the capital showers. ‘tell me, do i still smell like roses?’ he asks caesar, and then there's a whole run where they take turns sniffing each other that brings down the house.”

“maybe you would be charming, you always smell really nice.”

“thank you, darling,” he kissed your forehead and pulled you impossibly closer, “you smell nice too.”

you smiled and adjusted your position so you could hold onto his shirt. 

“i’m coming back into focus when caesar asks him if he has a girlfriend back home.” he continued, “peeta hesitates, then gives him an unconvincing shake of his head. ‘handsome lad like you. there must be some special girl. come on what’s her name?’ says caesar. peeta sighs. ‘well there is this one girl. i’ve had a crush on her ever since i can remember. but i’m pretty sure she didn’t know i was alive before the reaping.’”

tangerine glanced down at you half surprised and half disappointed you didn’t interrupt again. he liked listening to you talk.

your breathing had evened and your eyes had closed. you’d fallen asleep against him. he bookmarked the book and placed it on his side table. he carefully reached down, grabbed the quilt and pulled it over the both of you.

“goodnight, love.” he kissed your cheek gently.

— 

lemon woke up the next morning and stumbled into the kitchen, prepared to see tangerine already up and cooking breakfast for the three of you. he was shocked to find the kitchen empty, no trace of you or tangerine. 

he looked over at both your bedroom doors and saw yours open and empty. weird. you were usually the last awake, having to be woken up by one of the twins.

lemon walked over to tangerine’s door and opened it, “hey bruv have you seen-” he cut himself off looking down at the scene in front of him.

you were asleep in tangerine’s arms and he was holding you close. he was awake and staring down at you, playing with your hair and gently tracing your features as you slept.

lemon snickered, “whats going on here, then?”

“shut the fuck up,” tangerine immediately fired back but lemon knew it was less harsh than it usually was. despite all the teasing tangerine knew he’d get, he was happy.

“this is cute, it really is.” lemon quipped, “but i have no clue how to make breakfast so please get up soon.”

“i’m not interrupting her sleep just cause your fucking incompetent.”

“fine, just don’t blame me if i burn this place down trying to make toast,” lemon started to leave.

“stop, just wait ten minutes then i’ll make you some fucking food.”

“thanks bruv, really appreciate it.”

“whatever.”

lemon left and tangerine was alone with you again. 

tangerine moved your hair away from your face, “sweetheart?” he kissed your forehead, “if you don’t wake up soon the smoke alarm will probably wake you.”

you stretched slightly and snuggled into tangerine more, “this is nicer than the way lemon wakes me up.”

“if we don’t get up soon lemon is gonna try to cook,” he held your face and kissed you cheek gently.

“we can’t have that he’ll probably poison us all,” you sat up and rubbed your eyes, “why is your bed comfier than mine?”

“because i actually make mine?” he got up and stared down at you still wrapped in the blanket.

“ha ha,” you laughed dryly and fell back into the bed.

you closed your eyes again and settled back into the bed, pulling the blanket up to your chin. it really was a comfortable bed. 

your peaceful rest was interrupted by getting lifted into the air.

your eyes flew open as tangerine picked you up, carrying you into the kitchen. you wrapped your arms around his neck and held on tightly.

"what the fuck are you doing, you fucking numpty!?"

"you looked peaceful i didn't want to have to wake you again."

"well it didn't fucking work you twat."

"sorry, love," he set you down on the kitchen bench and kissed you cheek, "but you look cute when your annoyed."

you felt your face heat slightly and turned your face away from him.

"stop flirting and make me breakfast." lemon interrupted.

"you could say please, you wanker," tangerine snapped at him.

"please, make us breakfast, please, mr. fruit?" you said giving your best puppy dog eyes.

"for you, not for him, darling." 

you smiled, "thank you, tan."

“you’re a twat,” lemon added.

tangerine flipped lemon off and started making pancakes. you jumped off the kitchen bench and moved over to the kettle, checking it was full before boiling it.

“lemon, do you want a cuppa?”

“yeah,” lemon mumbled, distracted by his comic.

tangerine whacked lemon up the side of his head.

“yes please, sweetheart," lemon corrected himself.

“thanks lem,” you laughed slightly at the sibling abuse.

the kettle flicked off and you finished making the three cups of tea and handed one to lemon who smiled in thanks. you walked over to tangerine and placed one on the counter in front of him.

tangerine grabbed your waist and pulled you in for a kiss on the cheek, “thank you pet.”

you pulled away from him and started drinking your own cup, watching tangerine as he cooked and plated the golden pancakes.

“so did you two fuck last night?” lemon abruptly asked.

you choked on your tea and tangerines head snapped up to glare at him.

“no we slept together,” tangerine slowly replied.

lemon snorts, “i thought that was the same thing.”

“no you bellend we actually just slept, we were tired,” tangerine snapped.

you gulped down the rest of your tea and quickly placed your mug in the sink, “i’m gonna go shower boys, please save me some pancakes.” you smiled at the both and walked into the bathroom, locking the door behind you.

once you were gone lemon spoke up again, “you gonna tell her you love her yet?"

“shut up,” tangerine hissed, glancing at the shut bathroom door.

“she likes you too you know.”

tangerine didn’t respond for a few seconds, “really?”

“you’re in love with each other you both just fucking stupid.”

and for once tangerine didn’t feel the need to throw an insult back, he just reveled at the thought that you could like him too.

[surgepricing]

RWBY Final Thoughts: Legacy

Very rarely would I ever consider a fandom on its own worth its own section of a Final Thoughts. ... [Basically,] they behave like a cult.

This is a repost of a post I made February 1st, 2024 on another site. At the time, it was the final post of a deep-dive recap of RWBY and the history of the show, its fandom, and its direction under Rooster Teeth.

I felt this out with some of my peers and the feedback I got in relation to posting in on Tumblr was that, well, why not? It was my main haunt to begin with, and I may as well, since Rooster Teeth is closing its doors. I'm posting this mainly as a shot in the dark just to see how it gets received. Only minor edits have been made; I'm sure there's some stuff in here that would make people mad, but that applies to pretty much anything someone could say about RWBY. Click the read more to get a glance at how my time with RWBY ultimately wrapped up.

Nine years ago today, Monty Oum died of an allergic reaction. Today is a day of mourning for fans of his work, including RWBY. There’s no sense in waiting. Let’s finish this and heal.

The Showrunners

Miles and Kerry often received the brunt of the attention when it came to RWBY. As the writers of the show, they bore responsibility for the largest chunk of why it eventually went into the shitter, and fan anger against them was almost certainly not helped by the damn near idolization heaped on them by fervent stans. They are, undoubtedly, the focal point of RWBY fans’ parasocial relationship with the show.

Of course, despite sharing about the same credits space as his partner in crime, Kerry tended to fly under the radar a lot, with it being Miles who received the brunt of the fandom’s fury with each successive volume. It’s not hard to see why; the character Miles voices has been consistently over-exposed and is in many ways an obvious creator’s pet, with denials as to this fact falling on deaf ears as Jaune’s screentime continued to balloon past its merits, whereas the character Kerry voices could just about wrangle an average of ten seconds of screentime every three years. Certainly Miles has been in trouble with fans more often than Kerry for the shit he’s said and done. The Ruby body pillow and the Tifa Lockhart ‘prostitute’ comments come to mind. Oh, and the slurs, that one too.

But perhaps the reason Miles gets so much more flak than Kerry is that Miles just...acts like an asshole a lot of the time. Even aside from above examples, Miles’ flaws come out in his writing: he’s petty, holds grudges, can’t take criticism, and just overall has way more power over the story than someone of his caliber should. He’s very poor at disguising his real feelings and often lets them bleed through, and when he actually decides to voice them on purpose, things get ugly—refer to that Cameo about Ironwood.

But as tempting as it is to treat Miles as an out-of-control cockwaffle on the rampage and Kerry as his sympathetic ineffectual shadow, the reality is that they’re co-writers, have been for ten years, and anything Miles gets away with doing is as much Kerry’s fault as his. If the Gray Haddock situation has taught us anything, it’s that more people tend to harbor blame than the one individual that makes an easy scapegoat.

Since aside from aforementioned n-word business, Miles and Kerry are almost never connected to moral outrage, this makes it easy for the stans to uphold them, since all they really have to defend them from is accusations that they didn’t honor Monty’s “vision” for the series. This is only easy because the stans are fucking insane, but that’s for later on down the page.

“Vision” is in quotes because that’s how fans treat it, we all know they don’t really care. Miles and Kerry’s vision matters, and we know that much because of Calixyn’s interview where she all but begged to be told that RWBY Volume 5 was as bad as it was because the “good bois” had control of the show ripped from them. Nope, turns out all that racism, homophobia, and plain shitty writing is all on them. But at least they’re nice!

(Miles was 26 when he said the n-word. I’m 26 now when writing this. I think it’s pretty fair to call him an asshole.)

But the truth is that it’s objectively stupid to think that the direction of RWBY hasn’t changed since Monty’s passing, it’s impossible for it not to have. There are more writers on board than before, and it’s been a long time since he was alive to contribute his thoughts. The real question is whether they at least tried, and I don’t think they did.

I mean, Shane Newville never names Miles and Kerry in his letter, but he does state several times that the choices made for the show were not only not what Monty wanted, but “straight up just shitting all over what Monty made”. I find it very difficult to believe that that insinuation, and all of the people caught up in the net it casts, wouldn’t include those two. And like it or not, but the person who is able to compile tons of clips and interviews over the years as some sort of seeming immutable proof that “CRWBY” are good-hearted people determined to preserve Monty’s vision, isn’t really looking at any more evidence than the person who’s come to the conclusion, based on what they’ve seen, that that the opposite is true. And they’re certainly looking at less evidence than the people who actually did work there around Monty, Miles, and Kerry. The facts sometimes boil down to ‘if it walks like a duck, talks like a duck, and is implicated in the walls of text like a duck, it’s probably a duck’, guys.

Even in the best case scenario in which the work of Monty Oum turns out to have been treated with dignity and respect (and was just really shittily written from the beginning), the fact remains that Miles and Kerry did not put a quality product into the world. I will be very surprised if either of them manages to get a lead writing position ever again, because once the popularity of RWBY fades, so too will the goodwill they’ve somehow amassed among its fans. RWBY, much like Twilight, is inevitably going to taint the people who were in charge of writing it.

But Miles and Kerry are just two dudes. What exactly is going to happen to those fervent fans who hung on their every word and insisted they were the embodiment of everything pure and innocent? What, exactly, is going to happen to the RWBY fandom that once seemed to be unavoidably populous on the internet?

F, N, D, M

We already went over “constructive criticism” and “worldbuilding”, so let’s add another eternally-misused word to our roster. You know, something I’ve occasionally thought about in terms of online spaces is that no one knows what a “comfort show” is. It’s one of those terms that became too popular almost as soon as it was introduced, to the point that it became meaningless, much like “hyperfixation” and “anxiety”. I see people refer to RWBY as their comfort show and I’m just like...how? A comfort show is supposed to be the show that always puts you in a good headspace, a show you rest easy with because you’ve always connected with it because the love was always there. A comfort show is a show that you watch in your down moments to feel better, not a show you think is just the greatest thing ever, the bees’ knees if you will.

A comfort show is not a show you force yourself to like, it is not a show you defend at all costs, and it is not a show you only still cling to because enjoying it once coincided with a time when you felt popular and among friends. Which, increasingly, seems to have been the case for RWBY fans.

RWBY’s Fandom

Very rarely would I ever consider a fandom on its own worth its own section of a Final Thoughts. But I’m doing it now because the RWBY fandom, though now it’s a shadow of its former self, is still a sizable chunk of people and took a lot longer to die than most other fandoms.

The RWBY fandom itself was an especially big and very online fandom, and the show produced an abnormally large amount of big name fans who continued to use their own influence to push its success and keep its momentum going. As I’ve said before, the RWBY fandom is something that Rooster Teeth were able to extract an excessive amount of praise out of for minimal effort; it simply seems to be in RWBY fans’ nature to speculate and theorize and over-analyze and fill in blanks, and to perceive good writing and animation where there is none. But you know how fandom operates—the bigger its size, the more infamous it becomes.

Long since famed for being especially toxic, those who are in the know consider RWBY fans a different breed, really. They create and move narratives at high speed and act quickly to correct any perceived dissent in the ranks, casting out anyone that feels disillusionment with the product and insisting everything is peachy even as their world crumbles around them. To RWBY fans, the “CRWBY” are always separate from the “problematic” aspects of Rooster Teeth (which is basically the whole company) and it doesn’t matter how many of its flaws get highlighted; RWBY and the people that make it are always great, innocent of any harm done and fantastic, and anyone that dislikes them is a villain—even if those people were at one point part of the “CRWBY” themselves. Loyalty is everything. In other words, they behave like a cult.Those acronyms themselves have always bothered me, and I’ve grown a strong distaste for them. Originally they were just a quirk of the show; a format for team names that spawned the name of the show and eventually stopped being relevant altogether. But RWBY fans are simply unable to not use them. It’s not “the fandom” it’s “the FNDM”. They’re not “the RWBY team” or “the RWBY crew”, they’re “CRWBY”. Even people that the fans are actively trying to shame, shun, and harass don’t get to simply be people—they’re “RWDE” and, when that became an actual community of sorts unto itself, was switched to “HTDM”, short for “hatedom”. They remind me distinctly of code words that get formed and passed around in cult movements, identifying terms that quickly provide boxes to put people in and make it easier to sort loyals from disloyals. “Hatedom” itself is another one of those terms that spread and got so prolific it really doesn’t carry any meaning anymore. Real hatedoms are surprisingly rare, guys. Every fandom that becomes big enough for its respective product to become criticized eventually comes to believe it has a ‘hatedom’ because how could someone dislike something I like so much? But a hatedom on its own arises out of very specific circumstances and environments, and causes the spread of hate for a product based on broad foundations that are often unfair to the product and which creates perceptions that spread faster than the work, so that the work is often talked about in mocking reference rather than true dissatisfaction.

RWBY doesn’t have a hatedom guys, it never did. The Last of Us doesn’t have a hatedom. Fairy Tail didn’t have a hatedom. Blackpink doesn’t have a hatedom. Even Marvel doesn’t have a hatedom.

Paris Hilton had a hatedom. Nickelback had a hatedom. Hell, the website Tumblr itself had a hatedom. These were examples of people or products whose reputations spread too quickly and eventually swallowed rational perception of them, with people who have never experienced them or their work dismissing them and the fans who enjoy it wholesale.

Using the term “hatedom” is understandably common because (and in spite of the fact that) it allows for easy miscategorization. A hatedom is not composed of people that were actually exposed to the work, found it lacking, and expressed that. A hatedom does not occur in the wake of a product that was so bad it pissed off its fans and caused them to walk. People don’t hate Metroid: Other M because they can’t stand the sight of a woman being vulnerable and don’t understand challenging drama, they hate it because it was poorly written, badly designed, and tarnished a long-running and highly cherished gaming heroine’s reputation. People didn’t hate Fifty Shades of Grey because of some bias against women expressing their sexual freedom, they hated it because it was a wildly misogynistic and badly-written piece of dreck. People didn’t hate The Last of Us Part II because of homophobia and transphobia, they hated it because it was a misery fest with a tired moral theme that posited itself far more deep and compelling than it really was. And just because people with the above disingenuous views also hated these things does not discount the fact that the works got the reputations they did because they were getting back the exact amount of love and respect that was put into them.

Similarly, RWBY doesn’t have a hatedom. It does, in fact, have an ex-fandom. Those are also things you don’t see very often, but when you do, they almost always follow the same pattern, don’t they? A work which got wildly popular very quickly, took really deep nosedives afterward, and became disowned by the people that had formerly propped it up.

But that’s a discussion for later. What exactly makes RWBY’s fandom so toxic and cult-like, and why and how did it get that way? I think it’s a combination of several key factors that were baked in and collided badly.

The first was ease of access. RWBY was sold extremely well early on, and shared enough similarities with both anime and video games that it attracted many curious people from those communities. Combine that with vibrant colors, an attractive visual aesthetic, an air of badassery, and good music, and it gained a lot of loyal fans quickly—fans of anime and video games, specifically, being fans that tend to get more attached than to other mediums and are known for spending a lot on merchandise. These, in turn, morphed into nostalgic elements ripe for misremembering—people often have difficulty acknowledging that something they once liked isn’t good anymore even on its own, and I think RWBY fans in particular put way too much energy into the show to be able to admit that all the time they spent defending it (and harassing people who criticized it) was for nothing.

That skyhigh rocket to fame early on, of course, was attached to the reputation of Monty Oum, and once he died, he quickly became a martyr, which galvanized the loyalty of the show’s most toxic fans even further. To this day, talking about Monty at all, even for the right reasons, is seen as disrespectful or distasteful unless you’re trying to use him to prop up Rooster Teeth, a double standard I’ve unfortunately run into even in seeming safe spaces. I think if we’re comparing RWBY fandom to a cult, then Monty Oum and his memory can be compared to a central mythologized figure, the center around which are formed all of the pretty lies the members of the cult will tell you. Monty’s name is irreplaceably tied to RWBY, and as such, in order to defend Monty, its fans have to defend RWBY...and you can see where this leads. Attempting to talk about the mistreatment Monty and his family went through at Rooster Teeth is seen as using his name as a weapon—nevermind the fact that Rooster Teeth and their fans regularly use his name as a shield.

Of course, what this really reveals is that many such people don’t care about Monty, who he was, or who he went through, but rather his name alone. In fact, I’ve straight up seen RWBY stans say that people shouldn’t “take Monty’s name in vain”, as if Monty were in fact some sacred religious figure. It’s both bizarre and harmful.

A third factor was popularity. For a lot of the same reasons as, say, Supernatural, the perception of RWBY skews much more broadly between fan and ex-fan than that of the typical over-hyped show. The truth of the matter is that when a show gets popular, or really any work gets popular, enjoying it becomes a cliquey sort of thing. People that enjoyed being into something well-respected and widely known and basically the hottest trend are far more prone to become overly attached, put too much of themselves into it, and remain unequipped to deal with the fact of that trend’s eventual passing, especially if it’s a fall into disgrace rather than a quiet entrance into history. You can still find certain especially toxic big names from the RWBY fandom active and posting, pretending not to notice that their audience has become smaller and smaller over the years. Let’s face facts here, a lot of people that enjoy being part of the “in” crowd never manage to figure out how to accept losses and will do anything to try and regain lost popularity, or fool themselves into thinking they’re still on top of the world.

But we can reason and explain all day. Another truth of the matter is that it shouldn’t be other people’s problem that fans can’t accept reality and adjust, and that the RWBY fandom quite honestly deserves its reputation as abysmally toxic. The way terminal fans of the show have treated anyone who dissents, most prominently Shane Newville and other ex-employees, let alone other ex-fans of the show, is quite frankly disgusting. RWBY stans are difficult to look at in all of their bewildering, teeth-gnashing toxicity and forgive...so I’m not going to. People that still insist there’s nothing wrong with this show or the company making it are, as far as I’m concerned, beyond help, and are part of the problem. Many an ex-employee certainly thinks so.

In a lot of ways, you could call the fandom one of the driving forces of the show’s failure, mostly because they had an abnormally large amount of influence over the show. Pleasing the fans has always been a major goal of the RWBY team (unless you like characters Miles Luna doesn’t, I guess), but it’s almost disturbing how the Rooster Teeth strategy has been to lead them along and bat their eyelashes at every turn and how the fandom laps it up.

Of course, Rooster Teeth feeds the parasocial engine by engaging with the fans as equals, and I was given a disturbing reminder of how many of the people who worked on the show—the ones who aren’t pissed and digging themselves out of trauma ditches—behave exactly as the fans do, tweeting twenty times a day about their favorite ships and memes. By creating the perception that RWBY’s team is just like the RWBY fanbase and wants the same things they want, they tap that line of excess energy that’s kept this fandom going so long despite how far it’s fallen. It’s that “hey! my friend said my ship is going to be canon and he works on the show” feeling.

Of course, a probable reason as to why so many employees who worked on RWBY behave the way RWBY fans do is because a lot of them started out that way. As in, student hires. This has long been an open secret of Rooster Teeth’s M.O. for a while now, hiring people who look up to them and engage heavily with their content. Many an ex-animator has lambasted this tactic because it’s insidious, and purposely designed to make the incoming staff feel honored and indebted and excited so they won’t notice how they’re being fucked over. Arryn Troche, who made the ‘gays greenlighting volume 10’ tweet, rings up as a particularly eerie example considering they have the same rather-uncommon and unconventionally-spelled name as the voice actor for a ship they’re obviously very attached to. A quick search reveals them to have been a longtime fan and cosplayer for the show before being signed on as a junior animator.

And it is the fandom who ultimately makes the legacy for any given work or body of work. So what is RWBY ultimately going to be remembered for?

Legacy

I thought about it for a little while and found five things that are most likely to be associated with RWBY in the public’s memory after its death. The first should come as no surprise to anyone.

Bumbleby

The only part of RWBY that will likely be carried on by fans who stuck with it until the end is, of course, the only part of it that mattered, to many of them. You’ll know from my earlier recaps that shipping was always a big deal in fandom, but due to key choices (or if you prefer, mistakes) made during Volumes 2 and 3, one ship grew larger and more promoted in fandom circles than any others.

This is a combination of the unique features of the RWBY fandom and their one-track mind. The fans are well-known, as I said, to fill in the blanks in a pattern that best suits their narratives, and this works out with Rooster Teeth because it means that any sudden changes in direction they make will always be excused and praised rather than critically examined. Unsurprisingly, Bumbleby’s fandom, now that their victory has been cemented, have doubled down on their narrative that this was the intended goal from the beginning, despite it being plainly obvious that early RWBY was angling for Sun Wukong as the love interest and threw the occasional bones to Blake/Yang shippers to try and play nice.

This used to be one part of the fandom, of course, but as the show continually bombed with viewers and made more and more decisions that pushed them away, all competitors were slowly filtered out as their fans left, until Bumbleby shippers were the fandom. It’s no coincidence that Blake and Yang suddenly started acting unusually touchy and sentimental in Volume Six, following on the heels of a volume of RWBY so wildly unpopular that it woke up the company execs and forced them to acknowledge that the biggest part of their fanbase was only going to remain loyal in exchange for one thing: their ship.

The sad thing is that you can tell Rooster Teeth wanted to explore other options. Volume Five features a rather sudden shift into Yang and Weiss interactions in what I remain positive to this day was an attempt to sway shippers into a potential second choice while Black Sun was still in the oven, and this really represented one of the major errors of Rooster Teeth, in that they failed to understand the audience they were trying so hard to please.

Bumbleby became what I call a “Big Red Button” ship, and it is only the second of its kind that I’ve seen. The first? Destiel.

Yes, there’s a reason I kept comparing RWBY to Supernatural whenever Blake and Yang’s relationship came up. I admit I wasn’t a part of the Supernatural craze in its heyday and have never really enjoyed the show, but I’ve watched enough of it to connect the dots from what cultural osmosis I had to the eventual downfall we saw in November of 2020.

Both Bumbleby and Destiel were held up as the gay ship that would change everything, the biggest ship in the fandom and the one that would’ve been a major push for LGBT visibility, at least during their heydays. The problem was that its fans were not really that interested in LGBT visibility and were simply obsessed with the ship itself, applying it value as a win for LGBT audiences purely to bolster its perceived importance. Fans like this were not ever going to accept any alternatives regardless of the sexual orientations or gender conventions involved. Hence, the metaphor that is “the big red button”. You have a big red button that says “canon gay ship but not the ship you want” and ask the fans you’re trying to court whether they’d press it or not. Whatever they might say out loud, you know none of them is pressing that fucking button, ever.

Both of these Big Red Button ships became what they were due to showrunners being forced into courting an audience they really didn’t care for, and how could you blame them when both were infamously very, very over-active and annoying in general. Just like with RWBY’s well-intentioned but misguided Freezerburn phase in Volume 5, Supernatural also tried to gently shut down fans who then managed to obliviously ignore any and all hints that their ship was not meant to be endgame, and I can say that because “he’s like a brother to me” in any fandom but Supernatural would’ve been a tactical nuclear strike that sent the shippers packing. Once it failed, the gay bait came out in full force. It’s well known by now that, contrary to what one would imagine, the CW was not pulling a profit off of Supernatural’s minor mainstream success pushed by a cult following, so it’s no wonder they eventually resorted to desperately baiting the one audience that was going to stick it out no matter what, provided they had the right relationship dangled in front of them. RWBY went through the same thing.

The main problem with these two ships is that for all its diehards insisted that it was all about the gay representation, their respective shows teased and baited for so long that the world outside the little bubble these shippers lived in had moved on by the time they came to fruition. Gay visibility in media these days, at least western media, is easily available, to the extent that sometimes people believe homophobia is totally over when it really, really isn’t. If you’re looking for gay representation, you can find it plenty of places, and the first place you look probably isn’t going to be Supernatural or RWBY. So the huge wave of viewers that these shippers expected upon their victories was never going to occur, which might could’ve been avoided if the writers had simply grown a pair and made moves towards canon much sooner than before the shows were on their last legs and due to be scrapped.

Or, you know, just been honest. Diversions and alternatives were never going to work. The only thing that these shippers were ever going to understand was a hard no, a “sorry, this ship isn’t going to happen”. But the execs in charge of these shows were never willing to take a hit like that, so instead they dug their own grave.

And where does that leave the shippers, those people who devoted their whole lives to these fictional characters, only to find the show that bore them into the universe dead in a ditch? Well, nowhere good. Much like Supernatural, RWBY is heavily associated with its booming period, the heavily online portion of these shippers’ lives in the early and mid-2010s when it was all the rage, and yet in modern day, it’s seen as a bad neighborhood to hang in, an abandoned mansion at the corner of the street where awful things happened. These shippers don’t have many friends except each other.

Just like RWBY, Supernatural also exists primarily as an ex-fandom now. Much of its former fanbase remember the good days fondly but make no secret that they stopped following it once the writing tanked, and this left the shippers without many allies to associate with since so many of them had been pissed off with the way their shows ultimately became the Destiel Show and the Bumbleby Show, respectively. Contrary to an unfortunately popular idea, these shows did have actual LGBT fanbases, only a lot of their LGBT fans were not on kool-aid and avoided being sucked into a trap called “if you don’t ship this, you’re homophobic”.

You will find that the Bumbleby fandom are often looked on with disdain by quite a number of viewers of RWBY who have accused them of speaking over minorities, sexual and otherwise. Many fans have noted that, aside from Blake’s bisexuality being a seemingly late addition (Arryn Zech is noted to have cast her as straight when discussing Ilia Amitola’s ill-fated crush on her as late as 2019), Blake was very swiftly removed from all faunus characters who held romantic connotations in favor of Yang, implicitly saying that Blake was better committing to a white human woman than to an ethnic faunus male. There are obvious reasons why this left a bad taste in peoples’ mouths. Not to mention, other LGBT fans that invested in the show were not exactly welcomed with open arms.

Fair Game, or as I tend to call it, Qrowver? Qrow x Clover? Yeah, that was huge in Volume 7’s airing days. It very much experienced a rapid ballooning in fans and fandom love...but we all know how that ended. Many a fan who felt heartbroken and, importantly, betrayed by Clover’s sudden and rather pointless death turned on RWBY and Rooster Teeth and accused them of gaybaiting, which is of course exactly what happened. They received no sympathy from Bumbleby shippers—because of course they wouldn’t. If Rooster Teeth would gaybait with Qrow, a popular male character, that would mean they could potentially be gaybaiting with Blake and Yang, too. That was unacceptable, and so ironically the part of the fandom that had always crowed about the importance of extending a hand to LGBT viewers turned on LGBT viewers, valiantly defending Rooster Teeth as they always had.

And because Bumbleby fans had no room in their hearts for anything about RWBY except Bumbleby, and were hostile to anyone who didn’t ship it, they ended up being their own best friends and everyone else’s bad memories. When RWBY has faded from the public’s memory and is no longer a source of active income at all (so, basically right now), one of the only relics you’ll find of this show will be the two women making out in all the fanart you’ll find on the occasional Tumblr blog.

The Bigotry

You could call this section “the Racism” since that’s the biggest part of it, but we’d be remiss in neglecting the harm done to other minorities as well. We’ll get to them in a minute, but race is the thing that’s going to pop to mind when we talk about one of the other things RWBY left behind in the common memory.

One of the longest-running subplots that RWBY ever went through with was the racism subplot. Its basis is one of the things that so severely dates RWBY: creating an in-universe stand-in for people of color through the existence of people with animal traits was something you would absolutely not get away with after 2020, and even by 2016 was something liable to be seen as tacky. Nonetheless, RWBY openly used the faunus as stand-ins for black Americans and the struggles they faced in a white world.

Except that the company, based in Texas and headed largely by white staff, did not feel the importance of that. What slowly started out as a main character’s attempt to redeem an organization she felt had been driven too far and was no longer her home was slowly transformed into a means by which some incredibly racist people could spout off about what they felt were the real issues to be talked about, which were the condemnation they felt was deserved by activists that turned to violence, labeled, a little too quickly, as terrorists.

The 2010s saw a shift in social values, and much as with gay audiences and gay characters, black audiences and black characters—as well as other racial minorities—were experiencing something of a renaissance, with efforts to put the voices of these people into the public’s feeds. It wasn’t just George Floyd in 2020—the unexpected and frankly traumatic reign of Donald Trump as president of the United States galvanized the divide in America and social awareness became a bigger thing than ever, and since Trump was a flagrantly racist person with racist beliefs who enacted racist policies and was uplifted by racist Americans, people pushed back as they felt their lives and existences being threatened by a racist establishment...an establishment which Rooster Teeth came down on the side of very firmly.

No quarter is given to the fictional stand-ins. Sienna Khan’s policies are never examined in-depth, and the only close looks we get at the sorts of activism the White Fang does are at Adam, who is obviously condemned by the narrative and made into everything but a mustache-twirler, with delusional and frankly baffling beliefs of faunus superiority spelled out at length. No matter what concessions Rooster Teeth might’ve tried to make with Sienna’s beliefs before they stuck a sword in her, the fact of the matter is that their beliefs came through in the voices of Ghira and Blake, who made it very clear that the individual motives and experiences of people like Ilia, Corsac, Fennec, Yuma, and the rest simply don’t matter in the face of what they’d been driven to do by them. The whole ‘blacks can be racist’ tone of the final scenes involved in this subplot are both miles removed from the more cautious and neutral tone of early RWBY, and also just a very alarming red flag overall.

I went over this in my Volume 5 Final Thoughts: the shoddiness of the volume does not lie solely with the animation department. Miles and Kerry are known to have had generally sole control of the show up until Volume 7—but we also know that they didn’t have to, if they were writing anything company execs felt wasn’t to their tastes. The sudden twisting of Adam into a homicidal incel ex-boyfriend, along with his mutation into a faunus supremacist, when he was the face of the faunus movement as a whole, along with Sun’s blatant ill will towards the White Fang when he’d previously been willing to give them a chance on Blake’s word, all imply that Miles and Kerry endorsed the worst possible interpretations of racial activists and felt free to condemn them and place responsibility onto the faunus—and by extension, the real-life minorities they represented—to take a stand against the bad seeds within their causes, and the fact no one stopped them from airing this implies the higher-ups felt the same way.

People didn’t just leave RWBY after Volume 5 because of some really badly animated fights—they left because they’d felt too much of the authors’ racism coming through in the narrative and couldn’t comfortably continue watching. Every member of the faunus that had “bad” views was either killed (Adam, Sienna, Fennec), arrested (Corsac, Yuma), or “redeemed” by choosing to fight the first two (Ilia). All of these combined factors, with no room for charitable interpretations…not a good look.

And once Adam was defeated in Volume 5, and the White Fang reformed, that was the last anyone saw of that subplot, which had taken five years to wrap up and somehow still ended too early. Miles and Kerry had washed their hands of it, and references to Blake’s place in society were sparing from then on. This subplot’s inescapable presence throughout the show, combined with how it was dropped out of existence, left no room for redemption, either. No one was going back and saying “maybe this looks really, really bad”.

And so, that’s what a lot of people carried with them as their final and most relevant memories of RWBY: it’s astounding levels of racism. This is a bitter subject for many an ex-RWBY fan, many of whom aren’t white and, even among those that are, it’s simply inexcusable. Meet someone on social media who talks about RWBY at all, and isn’t one of the Bumbleby stans we’ve already discussed? You will find some mention or other of RWBY’s racist elements somewhere within their sphere. And so, that becomes a part of RWBY’s legacy, as a feature of the show that was simply too big to ignore and too poorly-handled to forgive. People don’t get over this shit, man.

This is of course not to mention the well deserved shitty reputation RWBY has for its other bigoted elements, as well. Bumbleby, as we’ve discussed, encompassed pretty much every RWBY stan left standing by 2020, but that left quite a few ex-fans that were fed up with the company’s obvious ploys when it came to sexuality and gender. Remember when I talked about Qrowver up above? Its ballooning and immediate fall from grace was a much-condensed version of RWBY as a whole, and pretty much featured as Rooster Teeth blowing their last remaining patience from LGBT fans to smithereens. The fact of the matter is that when you get down to it, every RWBY volume after Volume 4 was not a good time to be a minority. If you were gay, the show seemed to either ignore or despise you—between the background gays that warranted mockery, the mixed reception Ilia generated, and the outrage that finally boiled over when Clover bit it, part of RWBY’s legacy is how utterly unpleasant it has been for LGBT fans who expected and deserved better.

And so despite entering the scene in 2013 as a supposedly progressive show all for being led by four women, the show died known as a low-effort half-baked cringefest whose politics were always on display and always several years behind the trend.

The Good Days

Of course, another major part of RWBY’s legacy is the early days when everyone actually liked it. This is, again, something the show creators brought on themselves and something fans assisted with. I did mention the nostalgia for the Good Ol’ Days as a significant part of the RWBY fandom’s more cult-like elements, after all. The fact of the matter is, on some level, everyone knows that RWBY has spent several years going downhill. The ex-fans lament this fact, and the diehard stans insist that it’s all just as good as it used to be, primarily by doing what they do quite a lot, and linking completely coincidental elements back to things characters said or did in previous volumes as some sort of evidence that this has been the plan all along.

I’ve run polls on this matter before; even though I’ve recapped Volumes 1-3 thoroughly and shone lights on some pretty significant flaws, you ask anyone what they think the best volume of RWBY was and they’re gonna tell you Volume 3. Yes, even with all of the stalking incel Adam and the deaths of Penny and Pyrrha. It’s the last time RWBY felt cohesive and even though some obvious derailing was in effect, and Shane Newville has openly said that the behind-the-scenes matters were pretty ugly, it’s still the golden child. Shane’s only one person, and it’d be a while before RWBY scandals would become consistent and begin to overshadow the show as a whole.

The RWBY team themselves have certainly nurtured that very much on purpose. That tactic started with them, of course. Many elements that were either unpopular or predicted to ruffle feathers were stated to have originated in earlier volumes, even in situations where this wouldn’t have made sense or where it’s an obvious lie—such as Maria Calavera. They know full well their seasons post-Volume 3 were unpopular and receiving blowback, and tried to minimize it by linking them to more well-respected seasons. Suffice to say that this simply didn’t work. But it does make people remember those earlier volumes. Because so many ex-fans lost their energy for RWBY after its most active period, much of the hype from the hype era is all that you’ll see when you encounter one. Nostalgia wins out in the end, and at least RWBY can say that, as a show, it had enough of a headstart to leave an impression that lasted in a positive way. Although that’s only one side of the coin...

The Scandals

Let’s face facts here, the biggest part of RWBY’s legacy, period, is that it fucking died. It didn’t die instantly, but rather took hit after hit, blow after blow, and slowly had its image tarnished alongside that of the company, which failed to contain repeated scandals as ex-employee after ex-employee after ex-employee spoke out about the abysmal ways they’d been treated.

RWBY is Rooster Teeth’s biggest IP by far and, really, their only one worth talking about. Every other show was either eclipsed by it or unofficially canceled after bad reception. So when Rooster Teeth suffered the consequences of their actions, so did RWBY. It really can’t be overstated how the last few years of RWBY’s existence have been absolutely bombarded by a barrage of terrible Glassdoor reviews and bombshell exposure letters. Fans managed to stay strong through the first few rumblings of ill will, but after Volume 5 shook the fandom loose, discontent entered enough of the fandom sphere to be normalized, and once that happened, it was all downhill. Once people were actually allowed to talk about not liking Rooster Teeth’s content, they sure as hell weren’t going to be dissuaded from talking about not liking Rooster Teeth as a company or its practices.

Separating the art from the artist is a very difficult thing to do and only really appropriate in certain situations. Don’t fall for any kool-aid, guys, it doesn’t make you more mature or ‘above all the drama’ to actively ignore the damage done to real people in the process of getting fictional content out into the world.

If you’re still able to enjoy the Harry Potter books and look back on the good times they gave you in fondness, then fine. If you actually purchased and played the Hogwarts Legacy game programmed by antisemites and which puts money in the pocket of the transphobic owner of the franchise, then yeah, people will be right to give you shit for it. There’s a difference between quietly enjoying a product in a manner that doesn’t hurt anybody, and actively ignoring the people hurt to make that product while feigning concern. The gap in the fandom widened as the repeated leaks and scandals continuously ate away at the protective bubble around Rooster Teeth and it became clear that whatever fans might bleat, Rooster Teeth wasn’t going to ‘learn their lesson and do better’. The habitual cycle of using whatever recent scandal had occurred to cast disappointment and anger on a particular figure and uplift the rest of “CRWBY” (see also: the Gray Haddock issue) gave diminishing returns as the bombs kept dropping. This is part of why RWBY has such an ex-fandom, because if they aren’t enjoying the product and people were hurt to make it, why stay?

Crunching employees so hard they struggle to sleep and suffer debilitating health issues? Writing the n-word on a white board knowing a black employee will see it? Goading someone into trying to kill themselves? Calling an LGBT employee a slur and then making up a public-friendly nickname in place of that slur just to get away with continuing to call her that? Laying off people without warning or a means of letting them stay afloat until another job is found? Not paying or crediting employees and cultivating an environment where those in charge do what they want and those in the public eye reap all the benefit while those without a consistent spotlight get treated like dirt?

Just some of the things I thought up off the top of my head. There’s plenty more in the details. And you can’t blame Fullscreen, you can’t blame Warner, you can’t just write it off as something that happens at animation studios, because it isn’t. Yeah, the work environment in general for animation studios in America is lacking because, ya know, late-stage capitalism hellscape, but that’s dismissive of the point. Rooster Teeth are a bad company and hurt their employees and lie when called on it. It’s impossible to separate RWBY from Rooster Teeth (despite stubborn stans’ best attempts, which themselves have been called out by these same ex-employees) and because of that, RWBY’s legacy is one of corporate abuse and utterly vile behavior towards people that just wanted to make something cool.

People have refused to associate with the show over these things and honestly, they’re right to. RWBY’s ultimate legacy, if we’re honest, is the show that became a shadow of its former self, still trying to dazzle with reminders of its former glory and promises of gay relationships, all while trying to squeeze money out of both the employees who made it and the fans who upheld it. It’s the show that cost hundreds of people their physical and mental health and didn’t even have anything to show for it at the end of the day. It will live on in history as the most bitter of pills to swallow, that something you once liked and wanted to succeed can and will be ruthlessly twisted for profit margins and might actively hate you on the side. And speaking of…

Monty Oum

The biggest travesty of RWBY’s legacy is that Monty Oum is ultimately only the smallest part of it. He’s there, but barely—he’s a name in the credits that quite frankly is only there to keep up the facade of loyalty, when the show had stopped being Monty’s show before he even died and by now can be safely said to resemble nothing he would’ve made.

It’s a shame that for all that Monty was held up as a genius of his craft and a genuinely good man who inspired so many people, all he’s going to be remembered for is...this. A show people only attach his name to in an effort to insist it’s actually worth sticking by. Yes, Monty did other things, had other works, but none of them ever achieved even a fraction of the fame and respect that RWBY had from its first baby steps in 2013.

Maybe this could’ve been avoided if the real carriers of Monty’s legacy—Sheena, his wife, and Shane, his pupil—hadn’t been cast off as they had.

Shane seems to have found a new life and is working with Dillon Gu on animation, but I think we’ve all noticed his name hasn’t gone mainstream yet. I’ve tried to get in touch with him; from what I’ve gleaned, I frankly just advise leaving him alone. He wants to move on and I don’t think the RWBY fandom, which was so awful to him for telling the truth, is ever going to be a place he can feel welcome.

Sheena has mostly been quiet and done her own thing, cosplaying and watching anime and hopefully enjoying herself, although I notice posts on her Twitter feed from last year calling for a New Deal in the animation sector and castigating corporate abuses.

She also plays Hades, a much better product than RWBY with more love put into it and much better LGBT representation, which means her taste is excellent. She has a site now that you can go to, and the about section doesn’t mention Monty, her late husband, at all, for obvious reasons: Sheena doesn’t want to be connected to RWBY. Though, there is something there that’s noteworthy, in the last paragraph:

Still desiring a social element to her career, the animator turned professional cosplayer also has a history in the live stream world. Past broadcasts have included creating costume pieces, playing games with community members and subscribers, RPGs and more. No matter the project, peers or problem, Sheena strives to keep moving forward.

That powerful phrase we all associate with Monty.

It’s a shame that this show had to be Monty’s legacy, and that years off from now, his name isn’t going to mean anything to the public because the project he was passionate about and died making outlived him and his passion. It feels like his legacy was stolen, and his own part in the show’s legacy is held up purely as a pedestal on which the show should rightfully shine.

Every time I think about Monty, I think about how much I don’t want that to be me. For all the years I’ve spent here, with my graphics certifications being wasted since I earned them while I slave away in retail, I wonder if I’m the lucky one. If I were to enter the workforce and do what I loved, would it be worth it in the end? Would what happened to Monty and Sheena and Shane happen to me? Not sure I wanna know.

Snipped here.

[patheticwomenlover]

Play with me

Young Neil x Gen!Neutral Reader FIC cw: EXPLICIT NSFW Minors pls DNI ! ♡

Summary: You invited your boyfriend Neil to come hang out with you while Wallace and Scott were at a party, which leads to you giving him a blowjob in bed, but Wallace and Scott end up coming home right before he orgasmed. Scott was not amused.

a/n: Hi! First post on Tumblr~! I'm cross-posting this from my ao3: PatheticMenLover! Thought I'd expand my work on here too. I want to do Hazbin Hotel stuff too, seems like most of the fandom is here haha. I've just been doing SPVTW stuff, this one being my most recent one. Though, I hope you like it. &lt;𝟑

You, Wallace, and Scott are close friends. You all share an apartment and a bed too. Some people would say it is a little strange to share it with two other people but honestly it wasn’t too bad. Especially since you and Scott could not really complain, Wallace practically pays for everything aside from your Xbox 360.

 If anything, you, and Scott are considered leaches. You do plan to move out sometime soon and live with your boyfriend Neil. You’re still in the works of getting a good apartment, so for now you’re stuck with a loser and Wallace. Don’t get it wrong, they are good roommates, aside from the face that Wallace bangs his boy toys in the same bed you and Scott sleep on. But…not like you guys can complain because again, he pretty much pays for everything.

You just do not want to feel some random guys jizz stain on your leg. You’re still horrified that one time where there was fresh semen on the bed and you swiped it off, thinking it was lotion but…eventually came to realize it wasn’t, thanks to Scott.

Anyhow, that leaves you here, alone in the apartment relaxing on Wallace’s armchair watching tv while Scott and him had left to go to some party. They had invited you to tag along with them but to be honest parties were not your thing and you do not enjoy socializing with random drunk people. Ironically though a party is where you met your current boyfriend, Young Neil... or well just Neil. He looked so lonely at the party. At the time you noticed he had come with a group of people, but they just parted ways, so that left him alone in a corner with a bored look on his face.

So, you walked up to him, made conversation and surprisingly it went very well. And by made conversation, you meant flirt heavily. He had a chill; calm personality and it went well with yours. Not to mention…he was adorable. How had nobody gone up to him and flirted with him before you is a mystery. After the party you two exchanged numbers and kept on talking until he very shyly asked you to date him, and how could you say no? And so far, the relationship has been going great.

Now back to you. 2 hours had passed since Wallace and Scott left you and it was an understatement to say you were bored. All you did was watch tv, play on your xbox, and eat lunch. You had the apartment to yourself and could do what you want, but why did it feel so boring still? It was because you were doing It alone.

So, you decided to call up your boyfriend Neil and ask him to come hang out with you.

“Oh, hey babe, what’s up?” You could tell by his tone he was happy to hear from you. “Hey Neil. You wanna come over? I’m at Wallace’s apartment.”

“YES!…ehm.. I mean, yeah whatever that sounds cool.” He quickly collects himself, which earned a giggle on your end. That boy was so cute it hurts. “Are Scott and Wallace there? Are we all hanging out or something?”

“Nah. Just us. They’re at a party and won’t be here until….im not sure honestly. I can’t tell with them. Is that okay with you?”

“Perfect..!” He said quickly. “Good! Then I’ll see you when you get here, yeah?”

“I already left the house.”

Today was going to be great, you just know it.

After awhile of waiting for Neil to come you finally hear a soft knock on the door. You quickly got up and fixed your clothes and hair to make it look more presentable and then headed towards the door and letting Neil in. He had on a large puffy coat, jeans, his normal shoes and to top it all off a fluffy hat covered his soft hair. You also noticed his nose was red, poor boy must have had a small cold. Afterall, it has been snowing a lot recently, especially today.

“Hey b-babe!” It was so cold you could see his breath coming straight out of mouth. “Hey baby. Come on inside, you look like you have a cold.” He nods happily as he steps right inside, and you close the door behind him. “You think I look sick?” He asks while a sniffle leaves his nose as he takes off his puffy coat and sets it aside on the armchair. “You have a cold. Have you noticed your nose is red?”

He tries to cross his eyes to look at his nose. “Hmm. No, don’t see it.” A giggle escaped your lips. “Wait..does that mean we can’t make out...or cuddle?”

“Nah. I’d still kiss you.” You grab his hand and drag him to the bed. “I’ve been playing Sims 3 and Minecraft all day, it’s boring so when you’re alone.” You grab your controller.

“Do you have castle crashers?” He grabs a nearby controller.

“Of course. Wanna play that?” He nods.

“Good choice, one of my favorite games.”

“…dibs on the purple knight.”  You playfully push his shoulder. “Hey!- I wanted that one!”

After a few hours of playing Castle Crashers, you two eventually got bored of it. Not because the game was bad, oh trust. But because of the stupid bat boss, could not get past it. So annoying…! Anyways, instead of playing more Xbox games you decided to cuddle up with him under the covers while you watched him play on this Gameboy Advance. He was playing Mario Kart Super Circuit as Luigi.

You snuggled your head into his shoulder while you watched him play. “Babe.. are you sure you don’t want a turn? Is It really that fun to watch me play?” He asks curiously.

“Mhm. You make cute faces when you’re focused.” He sticks his tongue out in concentration. “Huh?..sorry what’d you say? I had to get back in first place.” You snorted. “You’re cute.”

You get closer to him, you lift your leg and placed it over his crotch. His face flushes. “Haah…y/n..you’re..um….you’re distracting.”

“Distracting? Can you elaborate?”

His eyebrows furrow. “Y…you’re trying to make me lose..! I wont let you…”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You tease. “I’m just trying to cuddle with my lovely boyfriend, can’t a person just—”

“Mhmm..”

“Oh?”

You feel a growing bump on your naked knee. It didn’t take a genius to understand what that was. He had gotten a boner from your leg laying on his dick. “Y/nnn….” You look directly at him. “Yes?”

“…I’m hard.”

“I know.”

There were a few seconds of silence between you two. “Want me to take care of it baby?” He furiously nods with flustered face. “P..please….b-but first let me finish this—”

“You can keep playing it while I suck your dick.”

“Wh- wha?...you want me to do that..?” He stammers. “Go ahead babe. Pretend like I’m not even here, kay?” You proceed to get under the covers while also getting in between Neil’s legs. His boner was more visible from this angle. “Pretend like you’re not here..?...that’s gonna be h..harrd…but okay.”

You placed your hands on top of his covered dick. You could already feel him throbbing. He breaths with a mix of anticipation and nervousness as he gripped his Gameboy tightly, attempting to concentrate as hard as he can on his game. You then put your fingers in-between his boxers then sliding it down all the way to his knees. His dick immediately sprung up with a string of pre-cum trailing down the base of his dick from the tip.

“Ohh? You were REAL pent up weren’t you?” His heart starts to race as you grab his dick. “F-fuuuck. Don’t…don’t go too fast….you’re gonna make me c-cum early again like last time..”

“Haha..don’t worry, Neil.” You kiss the tip of his dick. “I’ll try to make you last as long as possible. Just focus on your game.~”

You were going to be the death of him.

He watches you with a mix of awe and desire as you kiss and started to slowly stroke his dick. You could also feel him squirming underneath your touch. He felt warm sensations coursing through his body, but still managed to focus on his game somehow. But his eyes did occasionally flicker to your eyes.

“Ah…hnnm…”

You extended your wet tongue to the base of his dick, then began to lick from there towards the tip of it. His pre-cum tasted a little salty. “mmm~  you’re a good boy aren’t you?”

 “Ughn…” A shiver runs down his spine as he tries to keep his focus on the game, but your tongue and touch were already so overwhelming. He lets out soft gasps whenever your tongue glosses over his sensitive tip. “Y…yeah..I’m your good boy….” His whimpers out, his voice barely audible. His eyes continuing to dart between the screen and your movements, his body was growing more tense with each passing second. It just felt too good.

You wrapped your lips about his tip, sucking on it gently. You also used your other free hand to caress his inner thigh. Neil’s body lifted slightly, and he grips his Gameboy tighter as your warm mouth had engulfed the tip of his dick. He bites down on his bottom lip, trying to stifle the series of moans that threatened to escape his soft lips. The sensation of your hand on his thigh and the pleasure from your mouth sent waves of ecstasy through him. “y/n…g..ghhn…ugh!” He struggles to keep his focus on the game, it was getting increasingly difficult for him to both face fuck you and continue playing the game.

You started to take him further into your mouth, his dick hitting your throat each time your lips met his messy pubes. Your tongue trailing over the veins on his dick then back to his tip and then back to the veins. Neil’s head falls back onto a pillow as loud moans escapes his lips, his body trembling with pleasure. He could feel himself getting lost in the sensations, at this point the game had fallen from out of hand, he had forgotten it as he surrenders to the pleasure you’re giving him.

You then could feel a hand being placed on top of your head, gently pushing you further down. “Y..yes…just like that…you’re amazing…” His free hand grips the covers of the bed, and his breath became more ragged. You completely took your mouth off his dick and used your hand to stroke him quickly. “Gonna cum for me baby? You wanna cum on my pretty face, yeah?”

Maybe you were just hearing things but..was someone outside the front door..?

He pathetically lets a few tears fall from his face as he gasps sharply. His mind was going blank with pleasure, too much was going on he couldn’t think of anything else except you. He couldn’t help but let ot a lew, guttural moan, hips involuntarily twitching In response to the intense pleasure. “Y-yes!...I..I can’t hold back much longer…n..need to cum..” He struggles to form coherent words, completely hypnotized by your hand.

Keys entered the lock of the front door. Someone is here.

“Cum for me. Now.” Your trail your free hand from his inner thigh to under his shirt, caressing his chest. As for your occupied hand, your hand kept his dick busy with your fast paced strokes. “I-Im…y/n…I’m so close…ssso so close…don’t stop pleeease…”

The front door opens. Wallace and Scott enter the room before noticing..-

The intensity of your hands pushes him closer and closer to the edge, you consumed his mind entire;y. He lets out a final string of incoherent moans, his free hand gripping the sheets so tight his knuckles were turning white as he approached his climax. “Y-y/n…I’m…I’m gonna…c-cummingg!!” He rolls his eyes to the back of his head and arched his back involuntarily as he finally reached his peak, releasing his cum onto your face with a final, shuddering orgasm.

A string of cum landed on your lips, to which you licked it off. You then stuck your head out from under the covers to see Neil’s tired, exhausted face. He had tear stains on his cheeks and he was breathing heavily. You chuckled at this. “I hope I didn’t go too hard on you babe. You okay?” He looks at you with a small smile before quickly dropping it when he noticed you had visitors.

“Uh..y/n….” He mutters. You tilt your face at him with confusion. “What? What’s wrong? You’ve came on my face before.” He shakes his head. “I-its not that its just uh..”

“What?”

Neil lifts his hand and points right behind you. You turned your head slowly to see….Wallace…and Scott. Both, horrified, Scott more so. They just witnessed their friend give a blow job to their other friend, and it didn’t help that you still had his cum on your face.

“uh….hey guys. How was the party?” You nervous asked.

They said nothing for a few moments until Wallace spoke up. “I never knew you had that in you, y/n.” He teased. Scott however, wasn’t amused…at all. “We..y/n… we sleep on the same BED!...Y-you’re face is covered in—!”

“I KNOW.” You embarrassingly wiped it off from your face and Neil quickly pulled up his boxers and pants. After this incident Scott tried to ban you from bringing Neil over, even when both of them were there. But since Scott was considered a leech too, it didn’t hold any value to you. As for Wallace, he found the whole thing amusing, but…he very gently asked you to not fuck him on the bed…. despite him doing the exact same thing. Apparently, he’s the only one allowed to do that. Fair enough since it was his bed after all.

That’s not gonna stop you from inviting Neil over again. ♡

I was lowkey struggling how to format this. Tumblr is killing meeee

[remy2fang]

BIG Thought Dump on SF6 BISON, Shadaloo, and Gratuitous Amount of F.A.N.G

I actually plowed through the Bison stuff when he dropped. I wrote a few of my thoughts on Twitter X, but I’ll dump everything here on this post. Warning, it’s really really big and the end may have some speculative spoilers (font will be red as a warning). Here it goes.

Playing Bison

I’m no pro player, in fact I’m super casual, but Bison is hella strong! I didn’t look through all his command list because I just want to plow through arcade and World tour for the story. All I know is Psycho Crusher, Scissor Kick (turned motion instead of charge), and Head Stomp from previous games, so I just stuck to those lol.

Arcade Mode and Fighting Ground

Ok now for the story. The first thing I did when Bison dropped was Arcade mode and was automatically hit with some fan service in the beginning. Naked Bison. Capcom knew what they’re doing here lol. There were some guys making jibes at him and then he beat the crap out of them and stole their clothes for himself. And then he went on fighting other people he don’t remember through arcade mode. And then his boss rival is Juri. Ngl, I was super excited when I saw that. I was actually hoping to see this for a long time. In Juri’s SF6 arcade, the thought of her not having her revenge against Bison had been eating her up for years. She never moved on from that since SFV, so “probably” almost a decade had passed since then. Her seeing Bison again is her moment to have what she wanted. But it didn’t go her way. I can see why Juri fans didn’t like the outcome. For me it’s different. Yes, it would be nice if she got her revenge right there and then (as indicated with her win quote against Bison), or if she moved on from Bison after her fight with Chun-Li in her own arcade mode. But I have the feeling deep down she really wanted that revenge. Plus, she helped Neo Shadaloo’s efforts too, albeit for money reasons, and even said that she’ll take them down if they ever rise again. Now that Bison’s back, she’s no longer in the state of regret and now has all the chances to go against him and get what she truly wanted. She’s not aimless anymore. She has a real reason to fight now.

As for win quotes, some were fun and some were boring. Of course I was most interested in A.K.I.’s. For sometime before Bison’s release, I was curious on how A.K.I. feels about him. Would she have a favorable view of Bison because F.A.N.G admires him greatly? Or would she be jealous of him because all of F.A.N.G’s attention will go to him instead of her? Lots of people and I have been wondering about this. Now the cat’s out of the bag, this is A.K.I.’s win quote against Bison:

“You must be the one the master’s talked so much about. I must send word to him immediately.”

This suggests that A.K.I.’s sentiments toward Bison is neutral, but she wants to report to FANG about it because she knows that Bison is important to him. I can’t help but compare this quote to her Rashid one:

“You… You’re the one the master spoke of.”

F.A.N.G talked a great deal to A.K.I. about these two, but of course his attitude for the both of them are different from one and the other. F.A.N.G admires Bison and hates Rashid.

World Tour Mode

For World Tour, we see that it takes place after Bison’s arcade mode because he took over the secret ruined Shadaloo lab after fighting Juri. I was already at Nayshall when I started World Tour and I automatically got a message from Foo aka F.A.N.G. Ahh yes, I knew I’d see F.A.N.G again for the Bison update 💜💜. He has to take part in it because this the man he wants to work for.

This time we work with F.A.N.G much more extensively than before. Yes, we see more of F.A.N.G in the Bison update than in the A.K.I. one (but there’s no FANG illustrations except for one in the Bison quests). He’s a lot more active and involved this time. And we get to see his soft side too. F.A.N.G actually likes seeing cute animal photos, especially with the cat and the baby hippo 💜💜. This reminds me of how A.K.I. reacted with the pufferfish and snake. Hmm, I wonder if that’s the reason why F.A.N.G didn’t mind A.K.I.’s super cute messages with the Lolita bunnies and kittens? Deep down, does he enjoy AKI’s letters because of those cute Sanrio-esque characters?? Idk, but I think it’s super cute. Ahhh 💜💜

We also get to see the scope of F.A.N.G’s influence and reach, especially as his persona as Foo. At first it seemed that he only has A.K.I. as his assistant, but later on in the Akuma and Bison update, we see that FANG has Experimental Subject Lee, Neo Shadaloo mole Hahn, Minox from the Colosseo, and former Doll Changpa. Out of these aside from A.K.I., Hahn and Doll Changpa seem to work the most extensively with F.A.N.G. Hahn knows F.A.N.G’s deal. 2 salutes. Answer messages within 2 minutes. 2 sugars in his coffee hehe. Doll Changpa elaborates further on how she ended up working with Foo aka F.A.N.G in this update than in the Akuma one. Basically, she had nowhere else to go. FANG needed intel on Shadaloo remnants. Doll Changpa needed a place to stay. So they work together because of that. To her, it’s purely transactional. She insists that it was her choice to work under FANG, but she did hesitated on the thought that she may have went back to her Shadaloo life, even by choice. It seems she had mixed feelings. Nevertheless, a job is a job.

Back to Bison. He went face to face with his own phantom Bison and absorbed it. He regained some memories from it, but not fully. It’s said that if Bison absorbs more psycho power, he would regain more of his memories. But even with 100 bond points and max mastery at level 20, Bison still doesn’t remember everything. As I suspected, Bison still has a way to go before he reaches his peak. But it’s not like he cares anyway lol. He’ll just continue on quenching on power.

We don’t really get a clear answer on how Bison came back, but Bison heard from others that he’d often die and come back to life via spare bodies. He thought that’s how he managed to be alive in his current form, but that’s just his conjecture based on what others said about his past lives. F.A.N.G also had no clue on how Bison came back either, despite being the last person to have seen his “”demise,”” but he also questioned if this is in fact the “real” Bison (he is). According to the devs, Bison’s current body is actually the same one from SFV. The cracks and scars on his right side of his body came from Ryu’s final blow. So instead of disintegrating (his death was obscured by F.A.N.G and smoke in SFV), he lost his memories. Not sure if the game will reveal the truth of Bison’s “resurrection” in a later update tho.

Although his memories are still fuzzy, Bison has a major hatred towards Ryu, Ken, Chun-Li, Cammy, and Guile lol. He doesn’t know them by name nor does he understand where the hatred comes from. He sent the avatar to talk to these fighters and they all remembered him with disdain. They all may have an idea where the avatar learned such fighting techniques, but it seems they didn’t want to press on. When the avatar reports back to Bison, Bison basically said he doesn’t care about them because he doesn’t truly remember them…but he’ll gladly fight and dominate them lol

Other people that Bison hate are obviously Ed, Falke, and Juri. They all undermine him. Bison also hates JP. Hmm, I wonder why? For the past couple of months, people were mulling over whether JP is for or against Bison. For me, it’s really hard to read JP’s intentions and plans because he tends to lie a lot, but I also think JP is not trying to win Bison’s approval. JP is not a Bison fanboy lol. Even his quote against Bison said that he is incomplete: “Hm. Peculiar. Perhaps you are not your whole self just yet.” What is JP’s plan then? JP is not actively involved in the Bison update for World Tour. But if you talk to Doll Changpa at the Suval'hal Arena in Nayshall at night, she found out that JP is still plotting to do something with Ed and the “imperfect” Bison. From the sounds of it, JP is still the main antagonist for SF6 as he seems to have a grandiose plan for the both of these characters. We’ll probably see it unfold in the next couple of patches.

Bison eventually remembers Vega and Balrog and sends the avatar to find them. F.A.N.G, as Foo the messenger, offers to help the avatar in finding them. Hmmm I wonder if F.A.N.G ever contacted them after the fall of Shadaloo since he knows their whereabouts and how to get their attention?

To get to Vega, the avatar has to fight Ignacio in the most “beautiful” way. In-game, basically win with a perfect KO.

Seeing Ignacio, I was already curious about him. At first I thought he was Vega's son, but then the illustration scenes have him next to a very handsome butler with similar features, so I then thought that Ignacio might be a servant boy for Vega. I'd like to know how Vega gets to know these characters, and I'm wondering what their back stories are because they both have dark complexions and yellow cat eyes. I don’t know the butler’s gender, but I’m assuming male (looks very much like Sebastian from Black Butler). If it’s female, she would have worn a maid’s outfit instead. I know I shouldn’t assume and that characters can also present as gender-nonconforming, but most often times devs from Japan/Asia usually make their female characters “cute” or showing something that emphasizes their “femininity.” Very seldom do they actively make a female character have more “masculine” traits with their appearances. But then again, SF6 has been pushing the gender boundaries outside of the norm, especially with the avatar gear, the NPCs, and a few of their roster characters. That would be cool and it would be interesting if the butler is a woman.

Anyway, Kizer brought up something interesting and it led to some speculative conversations. On Ignacio’s brooch, there’s a Ken Masters Foundation.

But when I looked at the avatar gear that can be purchased in the Battle Hub, the same tie brooch with the Masters’ logo can be found there. It could just be assorted avatar gear just to create these interesting NPCs. But at the same time, I’m still wondering if Ignacio and the butler were affiliated with Masters Foundation. That’s something to find out in a later DLC. And I hope the relationship between Vega, Ignacio, and the butler is a lot more kinder in-game than what’s been speculated in the conversation. Even I’m concerned lol.

We also get to see an illustrated cutscene with Balrog in it. He still keeps in touch with Ed and thought about joining his group. But, which ever organization has more money, he’ll go to it. Good ol’ Balrog 😂😂. I’m sure he’ll share the wealth with Ed tho!

The only names Bison remembers are Balrog, Vega, and Sagat. But even then, he doesn’t really have the clearest memories of them either. In this illustration, all the Shadaloo officers were all wearing these curious uniforms. Bison mentioned about “brainwashing” them and they all worked for him. I didn’t think much of this scene at first except I got to see F.A.N.G on there. But a friend of mine said an interesting comment and I liked her interpretation more than anyone else’s. What the illustration depicted wasn’t an accurate memory. Because Bison’s memory is “foggy,” he actually meld the Kings, Officers, Dolls, and Soldiers into one conglomerate thing. I still believe the Kings and JP acted on their own accord. The only people that got brainwashed in the organization were the Dolls. As for the soldiers, I don’t know lol.

Bison really likes his horse, whose name is Rocinante, like the Don Quixote’s horse. Bison said the reason why he didn’t kill the avatar was because Rocinante took a liking to them. Bison came upon the horse in Mexico. He was on the brink of death and yet he hung on to life. Bison infused the horse with psycho power to give it strength to carry him. The scientist in the Ruined Lab said that most regular animals would run wild with psycho power and die. Rocinante lives and it has the strength to withstand it. Bison loves power, but he also respects any living thing with strength (and even better when they serve him). Learning about Rocinante’s story reminded of F.A.N.G’s first encounter with Bison in SFV. F.A.N.G and his former organization, the Nguuhao, were about to assassinate Bison, but Bison overpowered and killed nearly all of them except for one. Although losing, F.A.N.G stood his ground against Bison. Bison was impressed by F.A.N.G’s strength and will to live and offered him to join Shadaloo. After that, F.A.N.G worked his way up and became a Shadaloo King.

Unfortunately for F.A.N.G, Bison doesn’t remember him. At first it started off funny when he got flustered, but then I can feel the sincere heartbreak from his text. F.A.N.G became quiet and his tone turned solemn. Even though Bison’s return didn’t turn out the way he wanted, he still complimented the Avatar on a work well done, albeit in a bittersweet way. As subtle as it is, I don’t think I’ve seen this side of F.A.N.G before, not even from Toxicity. If anything, there’s many sides of FANG I never got to see before SF6. Yes, we saw him visibly upset when Bison “”died””in SFV, but it didn’t have the same poignancy that his message had.

If Bison were to encounter A.K.I. (and win), the story outcome would probably go into a different direction. This is Bison’s win quote:

“You shall tell me who your master is. If they have value, I will gladly use them.”

This sounds like it would go into F.A.N.G’s favor as he would gladly serve his Lord Bison…except Bison does not remember him. Would F.A.N.G be happy to serve someone who may be considered as a “fake” or an “imperfect” Bison? Perhaps not, even though it is the real Bison with his marred SFV body. Throughout the Bison missions, F.A.N.G questioned his authenticity. He also mentioned that it was “too soon” for Bison to come back. Hmm, how does he know the duration of a “perfect” rebirth then? This makes me wonder if F.A.N.G had anything to do with the revival of Bison himself and left him until he’s ripe enough for the “rebirth,” and then Bison ended up “waking up” earlier than expected? I dunno, I’m just speculating on this and maybe more info would come out later lol. Also, maybe the devs knew ahead of time that some Street Fighter fans would groan at Bison coming into SF6 too early lol. I still see complaints about it lol.

About Bison’s win quote against A.K.I., he refers her Master as “They,” because he doesn’t know the gender. I like that little detail. Also in the Japanese dialogue, Bison referred A.K.I.’s master as 先生, which is “sensei”and can be used for both men and women. But knowing A.K.I., she uses the word “xiansheng” (also spelled 先生 in Chinese), and that’s usually used for men. Basically, Bison said this to AKI:

"先生とは誰だ。

使える人間なら、使ってやろう。"

"Who is your xiansheng (teacher)?

If he is someone who can be used, I’ll use him."

As sad as it is that Bison doesn’t remember F.A.N.G, I think this is a good thing. If the Bison mission ended with him remembering F.A.N.G, then that could possibly be FANG’s happy ending and his story might’ve stopped there. But because that didn’t happen, it gives more reason for F.A.N.G’s story to continue in SF6. He can actually continue on fighting for what he strives for. F.A.N.G hasn’t given up yet and he said he would contact the avatar if he needs them.

Also, Only 1 unused FANG voice line was released for the Bison dlc. He said, “Oh my days!” in this one. There’s more voice clips that haven’t been used yet. If they haven’t dumped the rest of his audio in this update yet, I’d think more will drop in later DLC. Who knows how long F.A.N.G’s story will last in SF6 if they’re going to release one unused voice clip per update. If that’s the case, I hope they stretch F.A.N.G’s story for a looong time haha!

https://twitter.com/remy2fang/status/1806508555153146085?s=46&t=iEGeYIIN_aP028wRnoVcUQ

Even though F.A.N.G didn’t get what he wanted after the Bison mission, he at least accomplished what he wanted to do since the Toxicity story: Reviving Shadaloo. He took part in it by having the avatar track down Bison. He then sent the avatar to the Ruined Shadaloo Lab with the assistance of Doll Changpa. The avatar had to fight using psycho power in order to power up the residual memory machine, which caught Bison’s attention and he absorbed it. When Bison gained some memories back, he told the avatar to find Vega and Balrog. F.A.N.G helped the avatar in this regard as he knew the former Shadaloo Kings’ locations and how to get in contact with them. That in turn had Vega and Balrog interested in working with Shadaloo again. So yes, it was F.A.N.G that drove the revival of Shadaloo.

This is something I mentioned a long time ago on another post, but just because FANG has an NPC model, that doesn’t mean he’s deconfirmed to come back playable. Throughout the entirety of World Tour, not a single character mentioned the name F.A.N.G at any point. A.K.I. never said it and neither did F.A.N.G himself. Even as his personas Foo and Fang Fei, he never said his actual (code) name. He’ll hint at it and skirt around it, but never outright saying nor spelling it. The avatar hasn’t even heard of the name F.A.N.G yet. Foo pretends he’s not a former Shadaloo King and Fang Fei feigns that he’s only a humble medicine man. His personas Foo and Fang Fei aren’t fighters. That means Fang Fei won’t be fightable. If that’s the case, that means there’s a chance that F.A.N.G can be playable at a much later point in SF6. It’s funny how it works. Other characters who have yet to make it to SF6 have their names mentioned but do not have 3D models. F.A.N.G is the opposite in which he has an in-game model, but his actual name was never revealed except in the official website, in-game credits, and JP mentioning it in A.K.I.’s arcade mode. But for now, it seems that NPC Foo/Fang Fei will remain as it’s hinted that he’ll be contacting the avatar again in a later update.

I just want to say I really love F.A.N.G’s portrayal in SF6 💜💜. Not only does he have a cool new look, but his personality is made to be more endearing, especially with the Bison update for World Tour.

I know FANG is still very evil, but I can tell the devs tried to make him more likable. They wrote TOXICITY that delve into his backstory, made the amazing AKI be his biggest fan, have him working with the avatar, and showed many sides of him that’s not often portrayed in SFV.

Also it’s good to know that my dream from nearly a year ago got one thing right: F.A.N.G being an important NPC and we see (and talk to) him a lot as shown in the Bison update. 💜🥹💜🥹

Also, good on Capcom to release the Return of Shadaloo Battle Pass. If I see official F.A.N.G content, I’ll eat it up 💜😋💜😋.

FUTURE CHARACTER SPECULATIONS AND LEAKS. DO NOT READ IF YOU DON’T WANT POTENTIAL SPOILERS.

From what has happened in Bison’s World Tour Story, it’s hinted that Vega and Balrog would be DLC. I’ll tell you this. According to this leak here, Vega would surely come back. Yes, I remember people said it was fake…and then a few months later Bison and Elena became official DLC, and the leak’s description of them were accurate.

As for Balrog, it’s up in the air. I’m not saying he’s not gonna be playable in SF6, but i didn’t see his name from the above leak nor from this one (this actually mentioned Bison, Terry, Mai, and Elena as far back as April 26, 2024). But just because a character’s name is not on those lists, that doesn’t mean they’ll never be DLC. From what a Japanese fan told me, the devs want this game to have a long lifespan. Hopefully it would be longer than SFV’s so more characters would come in the future.

END OF SPOILER

[year2000electronics]

do you have any tips or suggestions for someone wanting to make their own oc story? your ocs and their stories are so insanely cool but i have no idea where i’d even begin to make one!

also happy y2kvr-versary ! late i know but it was still the ask blog that caused me to follow you and i’ve just stuck around for your other content after. :)

HMMMM lemme just spill a bunch of my thoughts all at once, this is just some stuff i personally like doing with my own oc stories! by no means is this a comprehensive list and i am not a professional!

1. accept the fact that you’re probably going to need minor/side characters. of course that isn’t always the case, there are story types that only focus on a handful of characters, but let’s use the reckoning as an example: even though i love all the characters there dearly, it’s about sinclair and his donning and subsequent subverting of the “mythological hero” mantle by taking on the vices’ challenge. montez and duncan, the other two archangels, are there to serve as a secondary antagonist in holy orders and bring some more life to the story’s world respectively, and That’s Okay. recognizing that not all your characters are gonna be the most specialest boys is a great place to start with structuring an oc story imo!

2. KEEP AT IT. the reckoning as it exists now didn’t truly come together until 2020, which is when the ask blog was made. cardine (the city the vices reside in) is such a key, important concept that drives the story along and the reckoning wouldn’t be nearly as good without it, and that only got introduced in one of the final drafts pre-ask blog!! reworks, practice with laying out the events, thinking and re-thinking of stuff and spending years with it is really good. it’s healthy. i mean a lot of great films and tv get ‘saved’ at the last minute from being terrible by one terrible concept being scrapped so revising and not being afraid to change things is your best friend

3. learn some rules. i’m of the firm belief that storytelling should be an all-access hobby for everyone, so you don’t have to read all of save the cat and then write out a full script or anything, but like. turn on a movie you like, or read a book you love. think about what they’re doing to convey primary themes to you. pick out the themes, actually, that’s good too. being able to pick up on themes that aren’t just being stated to you as if it’s dialogue from sonic heroes is a great teacher on how to subtly weave those themes into your story

4. don’t be afraid to break those rules! a lot of that stuff is great to pick up but at the same time they’re YOUR characters, and if you find yourself getting bored by playing too “by the book”, nobody said you can’t change how things work. for example, a lot of my oc stories have “villain protagonists” because i just really connect with the way ‘villains’ present themselves in media. if you find yourself fixating on a side character and brushing your main character aside? screw it! you can just make the story about them! what if a 7/11 clerk went on an adventure instead of the main guy!!

5. INSPIRATION IS YOUR FRIEND. WEAR IT ON YOUR SLEEVE. i don’t mean you have to publicly disclose every single thing you were inspired by, but the amazing digital circus is REALLY big right now, and gooseworx has told people IHNMAIMS and the raggedy ann movie were big inspos and she clearly loves those things because they uplift the work higher! (plus it gave people a new appreciation for those things) and, imo, understanding what inspires you and celebrating it is a lot better of a mindset than going into something out of sheer spite (like you’ll see a lot of people online making very inflammatory “i alone could fix a piece of media that had to go through an entire writer’s room as well as corporate mandates, gosh why doesn’t everyone just Make Things Good?” type posts on social media, and i find myself straying more and more away from that). best example i can think of are all those very ill-fated “original alien stories” that su criticals made back in the day that were even more confusing than the gems and everyone had to pretend that “of course it makes more sense for the aliens to be flowers, gosh, why didn’t rebecca sugar think of this? we’re so smart”. my point is hate and shame can fizzle out quickly but creativity is forever

6. and of course, always make sure you’re actually having a good experience with the process. fun, catharsis, importance, etc. if it sucks, you can literally hit the bricks. i say that with experience because before my original superhero story existed (iris of the storm), there was another (problem students). it was dormant as a story for a really long time because i had accidentally made a superhero story without any of the superhero tropes i loved, but i couldn’t just… delete it all! OH WAIT. YES I COULD. i started it all over and got rid of ocs that i was glad i made but don’t need anymore, and i’ve never been happier cos iris of the storm is actually fun for me.

BUT YEAH THATS IT. thumbs up

[crypticmillipede]

[percy jackson spoilers here up through Trials of Apollo and TSaTS]

listen i LOVEE the percy jackson series and its extended universe . BIG FAVORITE so trust me when i say i mean this with the UPMOST love:

gawd damn rick riordan keeps making these little choices in his writing that have me tweaking. like the way this man forgets his own lore. EGREGIOUS. pulls me out of the story. it’ll be the tiniest, most innocuous thing but it gets me everyyy time. happens more especially as you get into the later series, probably bc there’s just more stuff to keep track of. i loved TSaTS but it was especially bad there😭😭 wdym nico started playing Mythomagic in the 1940s ?? why is bianca here ?? and nico, who spends most of his time in the underworld, doesn’t know what the phlegethon is??

it’s other stuff too, i love the series but there so much missing potential for these characters that was just never fully explored.

Jason’s character had SO much potential. hello ???? child soldier trained by wolves since age 2, pressured with unwanted responsibility, forced to suppress emotions, remain stoic, be a leader. Rick could’ve done sooo much with that material. jason should get to break down, as a treat !! instead he comes off as a bit undeveloped, sort of hollow, not nearly as fleshed out as some of the other characters. he’s probably the least-liked main character in HoO, but i firmly believe that’s because Rick didn’t do his character idea justice, not because his concept was ACTUALLY boring. Not even going to go INTO what happened to him in ToA, bc i’ve GOT opinions about that but it’s too much rn.

and don’t get me started on Piper, man. the reveal in Trials of Apollo that [SPOILER SPOILER SPOILER] Piper was queer? GENIUS. SOOO much potential there. but now i’m going back and rereading HoO and it’s making me mad bc we GET Piper’s pov and it’s not foreshadowed or hinted at at all. and it could’ve been SO GOOD you guys😭😭 imagine a version of HoO where Piper’s struggling with Hera-induced comphet, warring with the false memories implanted in her brain vs the way she’s expected to act as a daughter of aphrodite vs the way she actually feels ??? UGH it could’ve been so good. but instead, it’s so obvious that this was not Rick’s original plan for Piper’s character, and it was something he threw in later on. missed opportunity for sure.

in general, a lot of missed opportunities in HoO. So many missed character interaction opportunities, so much that could’ve been delved into but wasn’t! Like I wish we could’ve gotten more about Percy and Annabeth post-Tartarus, see how they’re holding up after that dumper fire.

and i LOVE HoO, it’s my favorite out of the bunch! but i think i love it for what it could be, yk?? anyways yes thanks for coming to my rant, feel free to disagree with me that’s totally fine!! this is so unserious anyways lol just me sharing some thoughts about a series i love

[goodluckclove]

John Green's Thoughts on Adulthood: A Post-Mortem Analysis

So I was thinking about the time years and years ago, back when writer John Green was more active on Tumblr. Someone asked if he would ever write a book about adults, and his perspective were that adults were boring.

There's mixed physical evidence online. I remember seeing it, the first line of the ask was captured on a Buzzfeed article from 2013. I couldn't find the actual ask, because from what I've heard at some point John Green was torn apart with such intensity that he is now just a collection of atoms. And I don't hate John Green. I liked his books when I was also young. I watched the VlogBrothers. If I met him in an author space I would thank him for introducing me to NaNoWriMo when I was in middle school.

And then I would ask if he was doing okay. Like - emotionally? Because the shit she said in that ask is some of the saddest I have ever heard in my life. I'm using this Wordpress post as a reference of the rest of what he said and I just want to go through why it's just such a fucked and dangerous thing to say as an author who advocates for young people.

Follow me!

“Would you ever write a YA novel where an adult plays a key role? I know you like to leave the focus around the teenagers and their “peer relationships… but I was just wondering if it had ever crossed your mind.”

That was the ask. Fairly reasonable! And John Green responded immediately with the following:

I mean, to be totally honest with you, I don’t really give a shit about adults.

This on its own is a massive self-report. Not to any sort of crime or character flaw. In my mind, it's part of the reason why I feel like a point where big enough online figures, writers included, either need a PR team or a LOT of therapy. But he continues.

Like, all of my friends are adults. My spouse is an adult. My parents and brother are adults. I know and like many adults. But I don’t want to write for them. Or God forbid about them. They’re just so…boring. It’s like, “Oh I have a mortgage. I buy six pairs of identical khaki pants at a time. I take care of children and watch the television program CSI.” I admire people who can make that crap into the stuff of interesting fiction, but…yeah. No.”

I am angry. I am very angry. If someone said this shit to me in person I would make a face. If we were sharing a space with anyone under the age of 21 I would immediately say "you need to shut the fuck up right now jesus christ".

The thought of a writer who really made his whole brand caring for youth telling them that their future is inevitably dull and unremarkable, especially when you deal with themes of suicide and mental illness, is actually one of the most artistically unethical things I can think of at the moment. I understand that John Green struggled with untreated OCD for very long time, so there's a chance this could actually just be him voicing an intrusive thought that honestly terrifies him.

But he's wrong. We know this, right? Including the adults on here who complain about the tedious aspects of adult life? We know that in a majority of cases it is generally better to be a legal adult than a minor? If you are someone who would go back to being in high school because you maybe had less responsibilities, are you really prepared to lose bodily/legal/societal autonomy?

Like I struggle in life. Sometimes I've struggled a lot. But at my worst, when I was unemployed and flat broke and I couldn't even sell my blood because I took Lithium, if someone told them they could magic me back to being 16 years old again I would scream in their face until they left.

Also, I have a mortgage. It's not boring. Mortgage and insurances are, in fact, pretty confusing and something you have to learn and research. The most boring part about my mortgage was the thirty minute meeting I spent signing paperwork, and once I did that I owned a house with my wife.

Young people who see this - there are going to be boring parts of your life. That's a thing that happens, and sometimes you'll actually be grateful for it. You aren't boring for being thrilled that there's a sale on khakis if you're buying them for a theatrical production, or donating them to a war relief effort, or you're using the fabric, or if it allows you to save money and time in a way that means you get to have a smoothie or something later.

I cannot speak for the experiences of people with higher support needs than I have. But I did talk about this to a friend with higher support needs, and they agreed that being an adult rules. There is a point in which you are no longer an extension of your family or upbringing and it is your life.

It's not always fun. It's scary and confusing and lonely. I had to learn a lot of what my parents never taught me. Adults are always learning things. But since I graduated high school, the only boring period of my life has been the times where I overworked myself into a breakdown and was forced to recover.

And, considering where John Green is now, that kind of explains his perspective a lot.

I hope he figures stuff out. There's no age limit to having to figure stuff out. We're all going to have to do it a lot in our lives.

[sonic-adventure-3]

I accidentally drew the same goddamn pose 3 times lmao. Why is posing legs so hard i always fall back on posing them in the shape of a 4. Also, new freak!! Her name is Jerryjack. More about her + individual images + couple other things below the cut vvv

I don’t think I’ve posted any drawings of her other than her first, but i’ve been drawing rig a lot more like this rather than that first one. More graphic head shape, more upright ears, one eye hidden, mouth hidden by scarf, what have you. I think she looks cooler and is way easier to draw like this, but is a little less sonicy, im sure I’ll find a balance sometime. Rare carrion non-blep, this pose is cool but i did not even try cleaning this up lol.

And jerryjack!! She sucks so bad i love her. They’re Rig’s best friend, known each other since they were kids and learned the trade (killing) under the same mentor. She’s 11 months older than Rig, so she’s about 25ish. She hates consistency, commitment, seriousness, kids, stagnation, compassion, anything boring, and many many other things. She loves anything fun, stirring shit, lying, inflicting blunt force trauma, herself, lockpicking, and money. She’s purely self-interested and does everything she does for funsies. She’s not a part of the postal crew cause she thinks it’s boring and is allergic to commitment but hangs around and ‘helps out’ sometimes. She’s a hitman on her own, and has way more connections through that than rig, occasionally floats jobs her way. Also sometimes places bounties on her when shes mad. Or just cause.

Unlike Jerry, Rig is a very routine and organized person. She wakes up every morning at 6 sharp despite not being a morning person. Miraculously, she and jerry lived together for 2 years and during that time rig ate microwaved oatmeal every single morning and got groceries on tuesdays. All this is to say Rig is very methodical and likes routing and things that are expected. So Jerry lost their shit when rig called them randomly and casually told them that she’s starting a non-euphemistic postal service and also spontaneously took in a couple kids. Naturally, she’s very wary of squabble and carrion, especially the latter. Assassin recognizes assassin, silly recognizes silly, they try to kill each other and then become besties (who still periodically attempt to kill each other). As for squabble, she’s surprisingly fun to interact with, so jerry warms up fairly quick and becomes a truly awful influence on her.

Here’s the first drafts and base. She’s obviously a jackalope but calls herself a hare for some reason. Is part of that reason because i couldn’t think of a pun name other than jack like jackrabbit and ‘jack the jackalope’ sounded a little too stupid for my taste (as if ‘jerryjack’ isn’t stupider)? Ummmmmmm.

Anyway, i decided to nix the asymmetrical antlers cause theres a limit to how much asymmetry i should stuff into a set of characters, carrion’s already got the lopped off ear and etc. the back and tail marking is supposed to emulate ribs

I’m still super duper undecided on jerry’s outfit and colour scheme. Every outfit ive thought up so far feels way too simple or untethered to reality in comparison to the postal crew’s, however i think the postal crew is a bit too complicated (or way too complicated in squabble’s case) and too grounded for sonic, so. Idk what to do abt that. And as for their colour scheme, as seen above her first drafts have the same red and green of the postal crew, but seeing as she doesn’t work with them it’s definitely the better choice to diverge from that. Saturated orange is the most tense and unsettling colour to me so i think it suits her off putting nature, but the white and orange combo reminds me intensely of like. 1960s egg chairs. WAIT and ulala space channel 5. And various stupid tech startup kitchen gadgets. Just generally a combo with a lot of nonthreatening and safe associations rather than the warning sign i want. Idk man i’ll workshop it eventually.

Also, cloak rig. Her previous red coat was stupid. Not sure how much smarter this is but it looks cooler. Still doesn’t usually wear it other than in towns to hide her wings or when it’s cold. Also also this is the same fucking pose again

[crowsandturtlesandbatsohmy]

ALRIGHTY HAIKYU RAMBLE TIME (you asked me about my favorite character but you have opened a large can of worms) (as I’m gonna talk about the show and my fav characters so this may get long)

I literally hate playing volleyball so much. When my sibling sat me down and forced me to watch this rando me anime about volleyball I was grumbling and complaining so much bro. I thought I would HATE it.

How was I so wrong????

this show has no right to be as AMAZING, WONDERFUL, BRILLIANT, CAPTIVATING, FANTASTIC, as it is!?!?!!!!

I was HOOKED after just a few episodes.

And fun lil fact this is the only show that has made me nearly cry! I had tears on the edges of my eyes!!!! I never cry during movies or shows! WHY DID A VOLLEYBALL ANIME NEARLY MAKE ME CRY!?!?!? (I’m not complaining I love it so much)

A volleyball anime with four seasons? That’s gotta get repetitive right? WRONG. I do not know how on earth they do this but. every. Episode. Is so thrilling. EVERY ONE OF THEM. IT NEVER STOPS!!!

And to answer your question about my favorite character and why:

I love all the characters SO MUCH like I have a good couple of really good favorites. But I’d say (and to avoid spoilers for later seasons) Tanaka takes the cake.

HE IS SO GOOFY AND INSANE I LOVE HIM SO MUCHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!! AND YES YES YES BIG BRO VIBES!!!! (I have so many specific scenes I wanna scream abt but I don’t think they take place in season 1 so no spoilers for youuuuuuuuuu!) but asuhdgadgiauscbiwudcbiwcydbiwydcbwuicbwuicbiuwd Tanaka is literally amazing. And he only gets better. All of the characters get so. Much. BETTER.

And me saying I love Tanaka this much does NOT mean I don’t love all the other characters almost the same. THEY ARE ALL SO AMAZING HELP

All of the third years are so kind but also so hilarious and older brothers to the whole group!! Hinata is the goofiest lil guy and I LOVE watching him in the backgrounds! He’s always jumping around and doing goofy stuff!! Hinata is definitely up there with my favs (as I write this so many scenes are coming to mind) and Nishanoya has so many wonderful moments with Asahi and Tanaka it’s WONDERFUL!!

Also have you seen the tall blond guy with glasses yet and his friend? I love them very much, especially in later seasons!!

Also after you watch the season one finale, I’d love to hear your thoughts because that is one doozy of an episode. (It’s my fav episode I think)

I love how you’re only on season one and love it it so much (from what I can tell)! Every season just gets better and BETTER and more intense!!!!

Welp thank you for reading my rambles! I hope you have a wonderful day/night!

(Hehe my feeling that this was gonna get long was correct! Hopefully this made some sense if any XD)

Putting my response under the cut for the moots who will see this on their dash and don’t particularly want to read a super long post about Haikyuu XD

YES EXACTLY!!! I’ve never played volleyball (I’ve wanted to learn for a while though and this has gotten me excited about that again XD) BUT I GET SO EXCITED AND I LOVE THE SHOW MORE WITH EACH EPISODE!!!

OH!!! That’s interesting! And also as someone who gets way too attached to characters for my own good and cries way too easily over shows, I appreciate the heads up XD

GOOD TO KNOW!!! Right now I’m so pumped for every single match (they’re doing the tournament right now? I think?) and I’m getting energized just by watching them all be so hyped! So I’m so glad that continues and it doesn’t get boring!!! :D

YESS TANAKA IS GREAT!!!! I’m SO GLAD he proved me wrong!! Like my initial reaction was just “oh. Look. It’s the angry one. You’re gonna be a loud and irritating jerk, aren’t you?” THIS JUST CLICKED IN MY HEAD and I don’t know if you’ll get the reference or not, but he reminded me of Pin from Kimi Ni Todoke! That’s where that instinctive “I don’t like you” came from! But yeah, I WAS SO WRONG AND I’M SO GLAD!! YES HE’S SUCH A GOOF!!! He’s just so endearing and HE GETS BETTER????? HOW? IS THAT?? POSSIBLE????

YES YOU GET IT!!!! Like, Hinata and Nishinoya are tied for being my favroite but only by like a sliver of an inch!!! The others are all SO GOOD!!!

YES!! I didn’t talk about Daichi and Asahi in my post but I love them so much too!!! Daichi is so reliable and level-headed and I LOVE that he’s just an older brother to the whole entire group!! And Asahi is such a subversion of expectations!! I love that he’s one of (if not) the least inclined to pick fights and start yelling at people despite being the most physically intimidating!

AGGHH I LOVE HINATA SO MUCH!!! His energy and excitement are contagious!! Same with Nishinoya! (He just has the added bonus of being the shortest member of the team AND big brother vibes [I’m a sucker for sibling duos who aren’t actually siblings XD])

Tsukishima and Yamaguchi, right? Yes!! Right now Tsukishima gets on my nerves, but I like Yamaguchi a lot!! I feel kinda bad for him honestly? Like the vibe I’m getting from them as a duo is that Tsukishima is Yamaguchi’s comfortable person and Yamaguchi follows him around like a duckling as a result. But then Tsukishima kinda just ignores him?? Idk I could totally be misreading this. REGARDLESS, I can’t wait to see Yamaguchi’s serve in action! I haven’t seen anything about it since he asked to be taught, so as much as I love the others I’m kinda hoping something happens so he gets some game time here soon? And I’m sure Tsukishima will either get better or more tolerable over time! Right now I just don’t like him because he’s being mean to the sunshine XD

ABSOLUTELY!! I’ll probably need to get it out of my system anyway, so that works out well!! :D

Yes! I get invested in shows for the characters, so for me watching Haikyuu is just

THEY’RE ALL SO GOOD!!!! WHY DID I NOT WATCH THIS SOONER!? I get what you’re saying but like that’s so hard to imagine because it’s SO GOOD right now!!! XD

Thank you for rambling!!! I don’t have anybody to talk to about Haikyuu irl so getting to be excited about it with you was SUPER FUN!!

(Also explanation: You mentioned in the tags that your ears were ringing, so that’s what I was asking about. I probably should’ve clarified that XD)

[maxzinn]

Damn why is the HSR fandom becoming way worse than genshin? And whenever there is any controversy aventurine is always somehow involved like leave my boy alone 😭

I'm a cis straight woman okay and no matter which fandom i interact with they always look down on me and assume shit about me even though i try to be nothing but understanding I have had so many tell me that I can't like a certain male character romantically because he is only for the boys/gays. Even like when you tell them you like a certain game/franchise/anime/singer or band they're like 'you have to be queer for liking this' and for some reason they try to convince me that I'm queer even though I'm not and they think that me being cis and straight makes me 'basic' and 'boring' I love jjba, Nana, Castlevania, Final Fantasy, Hsr and genshin impact but literally every fandom I've been is filled with a bunch of judgemental pricks which is sad because I was so excited to talk about my interests :( at first i thought they were being like that because I'm asian but then i realised it's because of my 'basic and boring' sexual and gender identity

and for some reason when I tell them that I'm cis straight they immediately assume I'm a white privileged woman (like i said I'm literally Asian) and i haven't struggled a day in my life which isn't true at all it's so ignorant to assume all of this about me just based off my sexual and gender identity and when I try to speak up they tell me that they're just 'giving me the taste of my own medicine' like what??? What does that even mean?? I'm not even homophobic i come from a conservative country and family but I have done proper research and educated myself on this topic and i treat everyone with respect so why can't they also be decent human beings and respect me too? I still try to be understanding but I can't stand the air of superiority among these people and they're usually under the age of 25 too because other queer people I have interacted with who are older than me don't behave pathetically like these people

(sorry this was so long you can ignore it if you want and sorry if my english is bad it's not my first language 😭 anyways I hope you have a good day/afternoon/night)

(This post is also long sorry hehe)

No cuz for real, it’s getting way more annoying in the fandom (no offense) and it’s even worse on twitter and hoyolab.

In my opinion, I think the toxicity mainly starts with people forcing to everybody that every character in hsr is queer coded and all that stuff. I keep seeing all that posts and comments that this certain character is “implied” which is not true??? It makes me wonder if they even know what the word “implied” means, cuz it basically/indirectly means that it’s canon.

I’m so done with those posts that claims “robin is lesbian and girlkisser so gtfo men” like stfu?

If you have seen the replies on tuonto’s twitter post, there’s like a LOT of people saying that. Like, hc her as lesbian if you want but DONT act like it’s canon and stop forcing your hcs on other people pls.

And when others reply to them saying that it isn’t canon and that they shouldn’t force it, they just straight up say that those people are “homophobic and lesphobic”.

I have no problems with gay/lesbian ships cuz I support all ships equally (except the illegal and problematic ones), but these delulu people are ruining it for the fandom tbh.

It’s funny that being straight/cis is seen as basic and boring now. And that part where you’re being forced to be queer is funny af 😭 are they ill?

You can like all the male characters that you like, none of them have canon sexualities and they’re certainly not canonically gay. If some person says that you shouldn’t like a certain male character cuz they’re only for the boys… then they’re ill, don’t listen to those bs.

It’s so weird that people now argue and force a sexuality onto fictional characters and just assume a certain character’s sexuality based on stereotypes (like aventurine for example) then claims that they’re a queer representation when said “representation” is just based on stereotypes.

It’s weird that a character’s sexuality matters so much when it doesn’t even matter that much, just enjoy the game and the plot? Stop projecting yourself onto them, they’re their own person and they have their own personality. They have nothing to do with your sexuality. And most of all… they’re literally PIXELS

And pls, liking a certain franchise doesn’t reflect anything on your sexuality. You can be a straight woman and like drag shows, you can be a straight woman and like BL and GL. Men can be straight and love skincare, men can be straight and like fashion/makeup. ITS NOT THAT HARD TO UNDERSTAND?? Just stop stereotyping people 💀

[dirty-bear-rick-sanchez]

Alien

Edit to the edit: Now with art from the wonderful @geetimesthree! Thank you so much for this! Please check out the rest of their art as well, it’s amazing!

Edit: copy and pasting from Google Docs fucks up the format so some lines were missing. Please excuse my shitty replacements lol.

This is a Birdrick fic I’ve been sitting on for a while because it got out of my control and I couldn’t figure out what direction I wanted to go with it. It’s set in the early Flesh Curtains days and draws a lot of inspiration from Becky Chambers’ Wayfarers series (which I would 100% recommend). It was originally intended to be a series of moments where Rick and Birdperson realise just how alien the other really is to them (with undertones of Birdrick) but it kind of mutated into something more. However, I’ve been so stuck with what do with it that I haven’t really touched it, so I’ve decided to post what I’ve got so far. There are inklings of a plot/potential future stuff developing but I can’t promise that anything more will come of it so this may end up being a oneshot. Anyway, let’s get on with it!

Summary: Birdperson looks close enough to human that Rick sometimes forgets he’s not only a member of another species, but one from an entirely different evolutionary timeline. Other times, however, the difference is undeniable. ~6.8k words

Warnings: ableism (both internalised and from others, including mentions of forced institutionalisation, mainly towards the end), both Rick and BP having derogatory inner thoughts, eating insects (why is this something that’s been a warning for multiple fics of mine lmao)

Birdperson looks close enough to human that Rick sometimes forgets he’s not only a member of another species, but one from an entirely different evolutionary timeline. Other times, however, the difference is undeniable.

One such time is when he offers to make Birdperson a coffee one morning shortly after the Flesh Curtains move in together.

“H-how do you take it? Milk, sugar?” he asks.

Birdperson looks at Rick in puzzlement. “Milk?” 

“Uh, yeah, you know. It comes from mammary glands?”

“Is that not what mammals feed to their young?”

Rick blinks. “Well, I mean, yeah, originally, but most people have it in their coffee or cereal or, or whatever, even adults.”

Birdperson considers this for a minute. “Might I ask how you acquired human milk so far away from Earth?”

“What? No, this isn’t human milk. I-I don’t have breastmilk in my coffee!”

“So it’s artificial?” Birdperson asks with an air of relief.

“No, it’s real! It’s from shloopy-shlops.”

Birdperson looks vaguely sickened. “You consume the milk of other species?”

“Uh, yeah. You didn’t think it was from a human, did you?”

“Are you not disturbed by this? It must be a big change from what you’re used to on Earth.”

“Nah, this stuff is pretty similar to cows’ milk.”

“Cows?”

“Yeah, they’re-they’re a big herbivorous mammal we have on Earth. We use ‘em for their meat and milk.”

“Even on Earth you eat the mammary fluids of other animals?” Birdperson’s expression of disgust deepens.

“Uh, yeah?”

Birdperson takes a moment to steady himself. “Forgive me. I do not mean to judge your species, but this concept is sickening to me.”

Rick grins. “Now you know how I feel about eating bugs.”

Birdperson smiles, very subtly, but Rick catches it. 

“So, no milk?” Rick asks.

For the first time since meeting Birdperson, Rick hears him actually laugh aloud. It’s more of a sharp exhale than anything else, but it sparks a giddy feeling in his chest all the same.

“No, I think I will go without it for now.”

———————————————————————

Rick sits at home, alone and bored. An hour or so earlier, Squanchy had retired to his room with explicit instructions not to disturb him for the next few hours and Birdperson had left to buy groceries. Birdperson had invited Rick along, but Rick had waved the offer off, not interested in braving the sensory overload of the markets on that particular day. However, he has since started to regret this choice, as Birdperson has been gone for some time, and Rick’s not making the mistake of interrupting Squanchy during his ‘me time’ again. As much as he hates to admit it, Rick struggles with being alone.

He gets up and paces restlessly over to the window. He tells himself he’s not going to sit and wait like a dog, but he can’t stop himself from looking outside anyway. 

Pathetic. he scolds himself. You couldn’t bear to be alone, that’s why you moved in here. You want to tell yourself you’re still out hunting, but really you just can’t cope on your own, can you? I hope they get sick of you and leave, and then you’ll have to get back to actually looking for your daughter’s killer. Have you forgotten about that, you piece of shit? 

His train of thought grinds to a halt as he catches sight of Birdperson approaching the apartment building, paper bags in his arms. Rick jumps at the opportunity to escape his thoughts and rushes out of the apartment and down the stairs.

He opens the front door to see Birdperson fumbling for his keys. The other man looks up in surprise.

“Hey, Pers.” Rick grins, leaning against the doorframe. “I saw you coming, thought you-you might want some help.” he holds his hands out and Birdperson passes him a bag. It’s heavier than he made it look and Rick struggles with it for a second. Birdperson raises an eyebrow - or rather, his equivalent of an eyebrow.

“Can you manage?” he asks.

“Yeah!” Rick insists, trying not to let on how heavy the bag actually is. His brain doesn’t help matters, distracting him with thoughts of how strong Birdperson must be and ideas of what else he could use that strength for.

“If you insist.” Birdperson replies in a tone that shows he’s not convinced. “Thank you.”

The two make their way back up to the apartment, Rick finding himself talking far too much about any inane topic he can think of. Thankfully, Birdperson doesn’t seem to mind.

“By the way, whatever you do, don’t go in Squanchy’s room until you’re sure it’s fine. Trust me.” Rick advises him. Birdperson nods seriously in response, knowing all too well what Rick means.

They tumble into the apartment and Rick dumps the bag on the kitchen table, spilling its contents everywhere. He spots a packet of cookies and tears it open, cramming one into his mouth. Among the groceries, he notices a container of bright-coloured red and orange fruit labelled with an unfamiliar script.

“Hey, Pers, what’re these?” he asks through a mouthful of food.

“It is a fruit from my homeworld. Cubba-sah.”

Rick attempts to repeat the word back to Birdperson, who nods at him and takes one.

“Would you like one? They’re sweet.” he offers.

“Lemme just check real quick.” 

Rick fishes around in a drawer and pulls out a device of his own making to check if the fruit is suitable for human consumption. While more widespread species enjoy the safety of relatively common knowledge when it comes to what alien foods they can and can’t eat, humans are not so lucky. After all, very few of them have ever made it off Earth, and fewer still have met aliens, much less tried their foods. As such, Rick has to take his own measures to work out what is and isn’t safe for him.

He scans the fruit and the screen lights up green with the message ‘No known toxins’. Shrugging, he takes a fruit and pops it into his mouth.

A second later, Rick is aware of nothing except burning. A stinging sensation starts in his tongue and rises throughout his face, setting his skin ablaze as it goes. The pain is vaguely familiar to his unconscious mind and he grabs at the fridge, chugging down milk in hopes of relieving the sensation. 

“Hot.” he gasps. His eyes and nose are streaming, blurring his vision. Through the tears, he can make out Birdperson’s form moving towards him.

“Rick, are you alright? Do you require assistance?” he asks urgently.

Rick shakes his head and takes another swig of the milk, wiping at his eyes.

“No, it’s fine, it’s just… Jesus, why didn’t you tell me it was spicy?”

Birdperson blinks. “I was not aware that you would perceive it as such. Are you entirely sure that you are not having an adverse reaction?”

Rick nods. “Yeah, because this makes it better.” he replies, raising the milk carton. “Fuck, it’s like eating my abuela’s cooking.”

Birdperson suddenly starts. “Ah.”

“What?”

“I… have just remembered something.” he seems uncharacteristically downtrodden. “On my home planet, there is a species of rodent we call sqoo rah lub. They are pests that invade supplies of grain and the like. To deter them, we use an extract of this fruit. It contains a compound that they find unpleasant, but that is harmless and undetectable to us. I believe the term for it in common is ‘capsaicin’.”

Rick chuckles. “Ah, that would explain it. So these,” he gestures to the fruit, “are basically peppers?”

“I am unfamiliar with this term.”

“Hang on.” Rick rummages through the cupboards until he finds a seasoning that’s roughly the alien equivalent of chilli powder. “Try this.”

He sprinkles some on Birdperson’s outstretched fingers. Birdperson raises them to his mouth and flicks out his tongue to lick the powder from them. Rick has to fight to keep his thoughts from wandering off into less appropriate areas. Birdperson smacks his lips.

“It is… very dry.”

“But not spicy? Or hot?”

“No, just a slightly sweet-tasting powder. You mean, to you, this causes pain?”

“Ah, pain’s a strong word. It’s kind of just like… a burn.”

Birdperson still does not look convinced.

“I have seen you use this on your own food before. Why do you own and consume something that causes a burning sensation for you?”

Rick shrugs. “It’s nice. Gives it a kick. A-and hey, like I said, I grew up on Abuela’s cooking, this is nothing in comparison.”

“I am afraid I still do not understand.”

“Oh man, if we ever visit Earth you totally have to try a ghost pepper.”

When Squanchy emerges from his solo session, Rick hounds him to try one of the cubba-sah. Squanchy sniffs it and instantly recoils with an expression that reminds Rick of a domestic cat.

“No way am I squanchin’ that! It smells like that stuff you put on your food!” he exclaims to Rick, backing away.

“I wonder if it is only mammals that experience this as spicy, or whether it is only my people who do not.” Birdperson ponders.

“See, you eating this I can understand because you don’t feel the burn, but him,” Squanchy points at Rick, “I just don’t get! How can you enjoy that pain?”

Rick grins. “It’s not painful, it’s just a nice kick.”

They continue to squabble playfully and, for the first time in a long time, Rick allows himself to relax into the happiness, rather than waiting for it to be snatched away.

———————————————————————

Living in what can only be described - in rather generous terms - as ‘a shithole’, Rick has long since become accustomed to pests. Slugs, some sort of small rodent, and, most recently, ants have all invaded their apartment and subsequently faded into just another part of the background noise. Therefore, it doesn’t come as a surprise to him to walk into the kitchen one morning to a colony of the insects on the floor.

What does catch him off guard, however, is the sight of Birdperson lying amongst them, wings spread out and lowered so that they’re touching the floor. Rick’s half-asleep brain takes a few moments to clock his bandmate at all, but once it does, it goes into overdrive, thinking his friend has passed out or worse. Before Rick can spiral too far, however, Birdperson tilts his head up to look at Rick.

“Good morning, Rick Sanchez.” he greets, using Rick’s full name in a way that never fails to make Rick melt a little inside.

“Uh… BP? What’re you doing?” Rick asks, his voice still rough with sleep.

“I am getting rid of parasites.” Birdperson responds simply, matter-of-fact as ever.

“…how?”

“It is a natural remedy used on my home planet. A compound produced by these ants helps to kill harmful microorganisms that reside in my feathers.”

“So this is… normal, in your culture?”

“In a sense, yes. Usually, I would use what my people call ‘kubba rub-oo’ - loosely translated, it would mean…” he trails off as he mentally translates the words “...‘feather-cleanse’ - but I have been unable to find anything suitable on this planet. The natural method is slightly old-fashioned, but effective.”

Rick stares blankly for a few seconds before accepting this information. “Cool. You want coffee?”

“Indeed.”

Rick brews coffee for the two of them, serving Birdperson’s with no milk - god knows they’d already been through that fiasco - and two sugars, just as he likes it. Birdperson remains on the floor as they drink their coffee in companionable silence. 

Rick averts his eyes and decides not to comment when he sees Birdperson begin to pick ants from his feathers and pop them into his mouth. In a best case scenario, this could be an effective pest-control solution, but he’d rather not think about it too much. He sets the half-empty coffee mug on the table, unable to stomach the rest.

Birdperson doesn’t see Rick for the next few days, but assumes that the scientist has simply got himself wrapped up in a project. Since the Flesh Curtains are still struggling to book gigs, Rick’s absence doesn’t have a negative impact on the band, and it’s not unusual for Rick to disappear for days at a time, so Birdperson decides not to worry unless the other man doesn’t return soon. 

That evening, Birdperson walks into his room to find a bottle of unidentified deep red liquid and a note on his bedside table. The handwriting is familiar to him from lyric writing sessions and blueprints scattered haphazardly around the apartment. He picks up the note and begins to read.

BP,

I looked some stuff up and the main ingredient of kubba rub-oo is formic acid, with some stabilisers and then scents added in. That’s what this is. I know you like grenaberry so that’s what the scent is. Hope it works.

-R

Birdperson sets down the note and smiles. He picks up the bottle and sees a spray lid, then tilts it to confirm the liquid’s water-like viscosity. Both of these match his expectations, and he trusts his friend’s abilities, so he extends a wing and cautiously gives it a single spritz. The smell is sweet, but with a distinct and familiar sour undercurrent. Satisfied, Birdperson sprays the rest of his wing, then the other, followed by his head-feathers. The liquid feels cool and pleasant on his feathers, and he lets it soak in for a few minutes before padding to the shower to rinse it off.

The steam amplifies the scents and Birdperson’s breath catches for a second as he’s hit with a pang of homesickness. At first, he’s confused at his own emotions - after all, the reason he left his home world in the first place was that he always felt like an outcast there - but quickly finds the feeling replaced with gratitude at Rick’s gesture. His friend has taken the time to listen to him, learn about his culture, and try to recreate part of it as a present for him.

Birdperson spends the rest of the shower bobbing between bittersweet memories and a newfound depth of affection for his bandmate. He flutters his wings to let the water flow through his feathers and wash away the oil. 

Once he switches the water off, he stands with his wings outstretched for a few minutes, letting them dry. While he might use a towel for the rest of his body, feathers are always better to air dry.

As he exits the shower, he catches a glimpse of his outline in the steamed-up mirror and freezes. Something isn’t quite right about his appearance, and he can’t work out what until he shifts his weight slightly and sees a flash of dark pink at the edge of the mirror. Turning to look at his wings in disbelief, he realises Rick’s attempt at kubba rub-oo has dyed them. He wipes the condensation from the mirror to inspect his reflection more closely and finds that his head-feathers have also been discoloured. Being darker, the grenaberry hasn’t quite managed to turn them the same deep pink as his wings, but the colour difference is definitely noticeable. He even thinks his skin might be slightly pinker than usual.

Birdperson wraps a towel around his waist and exits the bathroom in pursuit of the living room, where he can hear Squanchy laughing as Rick protests.

“Oh, man, Rick, didn’t anyone ever tell you ‘don’t squanch too much or it’ll turn your palms red’?” Squanchy guffaws. “What were you even doing?”

“Sh-shut up! It was an experiment!”

As Birdperson rounds the corner, both Rick and Squanchy’s gazes turn to him simultaneously. The three stare at each other in silence for a moment before Squanchy cracks up. He chokes out what Birdperson assumes to be some sort of joke at his expense, but his laughter is so strong it renders his speech unintelligible.

Birdperson looks at Rick, expecting him to also be cackling, only to find the man staring at him intently, his cheeks pink in a way Birdperson doesn’t think has anything to do with the kubba rub-oo. 

“Rick Sanchez?” he asks, and this seems to snap Rick out of his reverie.

“O-oh, hey, Pers.” Rick chuckles guiltily. “I see you found my… present.”

Birdperson nods. “Indeed.”

Rick raises his hands up as if in surrender, showing their red staining. “Sorry. I, uh, I guess I didn’t realise grenaberry would stain.”

“Rick Sanchez, you went out of your way to learn about and recreate something from my homeworld on my behalf. This was extremely kind of you.” he ignores Rick pretending to vomit at this and places a hand on his shoulder. “Thank you.”

Rick freezes and looks away, his cheeks once again pink. “I-it was nothing. I couldn’t let you roll around on the floor with the ants, could I? A-anyway, I fucked it up.”

“I am very grateful.”

Rick mumbles something inaudible in response, still not making eye contact.

The three sit in each other’s company for a while, Squanchy chiming in regularly with yet another joke until eventually all of them are laughing about it.

After a while, Birdperson realises he should probably get dressed and excuses himself to his room. As he walks away, he hears Squanchy make a final comment to Rick that he doesn’t understand.

“Dude, you’ve got it bad.”

As it turns out, the staining on Birdperson’s wings lasts for quite a while. So long, in fact, that the Flesh Curtains have somehow managed to get themselves a gig before it starts to show any sign of fading.

“Man, Pers, at this rate you’re gonna be like that on the stage.” Rick teases him a few days before the show, lightly hitting Birdperson’s arm with the back of his hand. Birdperson has noticed a marked increase in Rick’s physical affection towards him lately.

“Don’t worry, I hear some people find it really hot!” Squanchy bursts out and Rick scowls at him. Birdperson is mildly confused by the interaction but brushes it off as Squanchy teasing him.

“Perhaps we should match.” Birdperson suggests, only half-joking.

“What, you think I should dye my hair?” Rick asks.

“I think it would suit you.”

Birdperson reaches out and fingers a lock of Rick’s hair, attempting to return the physical affection. Rick’s face turns red, as he’s seen it do before. Although blushing is a behaviour that’s present in his own species, he doesn’t want to assume that it means the same thing in humans, or indeed that it’s the same phenomenon at all. However, he can tell that Rick is embarrassed by it, so he enjoys trying to fluster him. Birdperson wouldn’t want to genuinely upset Rick, but he takes pleasure in teasing his friends, just as they do to each other. This sort of behaviour is not present in his culture, at least not as a means of expressing affection, but Birdperson finds that he likes it. Even though his homesickness seems to be returning more and more often these days, he finds himself continuously discovering new things that make him decide leaving was worth it. 

Rick agrees to dye his hair surprisingly readily, although no amount of cajoling can convince Squanchy to colour even a small part of his fur, insisting that it’s the key to attracting partners. He pops an unidentified pill and situates himself on the sofa in front of some sort of porn while Rick and Birdperson retire to the bathroom.

Since his initial attempt at kubba rub-oo, Rick has made another sample, this time using a flower he claims to be remarkably similar to the vanilla orchid of Earth for scent instead. Although Birdperson has begun using this one, he has kept hold of the original as well, and he brings it out now in lieu of hair dye.

“Rick Sanchez, before we begin, are you certain that this is not harmful to your species?”

“Yeah, BP, it’s fine, trust me.”

Rick pulls his shirt off over his head and Birdperson finds himself regarding his friend’s bare chest with interest. He’s used to the hair on Rick’s head, since it’s similar to his own feathers, and used to the fur covering the whole of Squanchy’s body, but he always forgets that humans have hair on other parts of their bodies as well. Similarly, he finds nipples extremely intriguing - while he appears to have them, they’re actually little more than markings on his chest, some sort of evolutionary leftover, giving him an illusion of humanity. The idea of these markings being something more - something with a function, something that’s an erogenous zone - excites him in a way he’s not sure he wants to admit to, even to himself.

Rick leans his head forward over the sink and Birdperson sprays the liquid into his hair, admiring the way the deep red drops of liquid stand out against light blue strands.

“How long d’you think I should leave this in for?” Rick asks, his voice slightly reverberating as he speaks into the sink.

“I only left it for a few minutes. I am not sure if that will be sufficient for you or not.”

The floor of the shower is still stained red, and Birdperson wonders if they should’ve done this in there instead of giving the landlord something else to charge them for when they move out, but the sink is easier, and it’s too late to change their plans now.

After a few minutes, the two decide they’ve waited long enough and Birdperson switches on the tap, cupping his hands and pouring the water over Rick’s head to help him rinse the oil from his hair.

“Shampoo.” he hears Rick mumble from underneath his mass of wet hair, and passes the bottle into Rick’s outstretched hand. Mammals, he’s found, can generally all use the same sort of product to clean their hair, although when he tried it on a small area of his own feathers, it didn’t wash out properly, leaving clumps. 

Rick lathers his head and Birdperson waits for him to finish before helping him wash it out. They repeat the process until the water running from Rick’s hair is clear.

Rick straightens up and flicks his hair back out of his face, before shaking his head and getting water everywhere, including on Birdperson. He grins at Birdperson cheekily, and Birdperson can’t help but find it charming. He passes Rick the towel quickly, hoping that the human won’t see his smile. He’s found that, although most species seem to struggle to read his emotions, Rick is unnervingly good at it, which Birdperson finds relieving and irritating in equal measure.

Rick roughly towels his hair dry, then flicks it out of his eyes so he can look at it in the mirror. It’s turned out more purple than pink, with some darker reddish streaks in places, but Rick grins anyway and Birdperson feels warmth rise in his stomach.

“I was right.” Birdperson murmurs.

“About what?” Rick asks.

“It does suit you.”

Rick’s face reddens once again and he fumbles with the towel, bringing it back up to his face in order to dry his hair. Birdperson frowns.

“Forgive me, Rick Sanchez, have I made you uncomfortable? I did not intend to.”

Rick freezes with the towel in front of his face for a few seconds before slowly lowering it.

“No, Pers, i-it’s fine. D-don’t worry about it.” Rick doesn’t seem to be telling the truth, but Birdperson doesn’t want to pry and risk making things worse. He stretches a wing out and holds it next to Rick’s head to compare the shades.

“We match now.” he says simply, and Rick grins at him. Birdperson feels his body relax as most of the tension rushes out, although a lingering worry remains. He never fit in on his home planet, didn’t understand social norms or have any friends there. While befriending aliens gives him a fair amount of leeway when it comes to social mishaps, he still feels the familiar fear of rejection sitting uncomfortably in the pit of his stomach. Rick and Squanchy are the closest friends he’s ever had, and while Squanchy is fairly straightforward and easygoing, he’s all too aware of Rick’s mercurial nature, as well as the suffering that comes with being his enemy.

Besides, Birdperson feels an unusual attachment to Rick, in a way that’s markedly different to his friendship with Squanchy. Part of him knows exactly what it is, but he’s not quite ready to put a name to the feeling. His culture regards naming as a form of cage and, while he might agree with Rick’s perspective on that particular idea for the most part, he’s all too aware of the tendency labelling things has to make them far too real. Names are powerful things, and giving one to this feeling will tie him down in a way that he’s not prepared to commit to yet.

On the morning of the gig, Birdperson walks into the kitchen and is hit by an overwhelming chemical smell. His first thought is that there’s some sort of gas leak, either in their building or nearby. When he sees Rick sitting calmly at the table, he tries to still his panicked thoughts. Rick turns around to face him with a grin.

“Hey Pers! What do you think?” Rick stretches out a hand for Birdperson to inspect. His claws - nails, Birdperson corrects himself - are black and shiny, and he can see a bottle containing a liquid of similar appearance on the table.

“What is this?” Birdperson asks.

“Nail polish. You-you never heard of it?”

“My species does not have nails.” 

Rick rolls his eyes in mock exasperation. “You don’t paint your claws? Or-or talons, or whatever?”

Birdperson shakes his head. “No. What is the purpose?”

“It’s like makeup. Or like dyeing your hair.” he gestures to his hair and Birdperson’s wings.

“A form of self-expression?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

Birdperson sits at the table and picks up the bottle, inspecting it.

“You wanna do the other hand?” Rick holds out his left hand, and Birdperson sees that the nails there are still plain.

“I… do not know how.”

“It’s easy! Just grab the brush and smear some on.” Rick pulls the cap off to reveal a brush, then hands it to Birdperson and stretches his hand out again. Hesitantly, Birdperson takes Rick’s hand in his own. He’s not sure if this is acceptable and glances up at Rick’s face to check. The other man is blushing faintly, but looks expectant. Birdperson adjusts his grip so that he’s only holding one of Rick’s fingers and begins daubing nail polish onto the nail. He’s not sure how much is required, so he puts on one coat and then looks over at Rick’s other hand to see if the two are close enough.

“Is… this acceptable?” he asks.

“Yeah! It’s great!”

Birdperson feels reassured and paints the remaining nails, starting to relax into the simple domesticity of the moment and the exciting yet grounding feeling of touch. Once he’s done, he pulls back uncertainly.

“What now?” he asks.

“Now, we wait for it to dry.”

Birdperson gets up and washes his hands, just to be safe. After all, this is an unfamiliar substance, and he doesn’t want to take any unnecessary risks. Once they’re dry, he opens the fridge and pulls out a tub of grenaberries, holding them up to Rick and finding himself rewarded with a laugh.

As he sits down and begins eating, Rick leans back his head and opens his mouth. Birdperson stares for a second and then smirks.

“Are you a youngling?” he teases.

“Come on, Pers, I can’t eat when my nails are still wet. Feed me!”

“My people feed our young by regurgitating partially-digested food into their mouths. Is that what you wish for me to do?”

Rick kicks him playfully under the table. Birdperson takes a berry and holds it out just in front of Rick’s mouth in jest. Rick responds by leaning forwards and wrapping his lips around Birdperson’s fingers to eat the berry, pulling back with a shit-eating grin on his face as he chews. For once, Birdperson is the one who’s flustered. Now he understands how he must make Rick feel with his teasing.

“You are a cub rah bah, Rick Sanchez.” he admonishes. He’s fairly sure Rick doesn’t know what that means, but the other man cackles anyway, making Birdperson’s heart flutter in his chest.

Once again, Rick holds his mouth open expectantly and Birdperson feeds him another berry, then eats one himself. They continue in this manner for a while, until Birdperson is sure that the substance on Rick’s nails must have dried by now, but he finds himself putting another berry into Rick’s mouth regardless. 

The gig goes reasonably well - for them, anyway - and they’re in high spirits as they walk backstage. Squanchy almost immediately makes off in search of a woman he claims to have been ‘giving him the look’ for the duration of the show, leaving Rick and Birdperson alone together.

Rick begins his typical excited post-gig breakdown, listing their successes and complimenting Birdperson’s performance while his hands bounce in front of his chest and his fingers dance. Birdperson suspects that this might not be a behaviour that’s typical for humans based on the way he’s seen Rick react when he catches himself doing it, with the kind of shame that only comes from having an intrinsic part of yourself suppressed. Birdperson, always an outcast on his home planet, understands this feeling intensely, and so tries not to draw attention to Rick’s behaviour, even though he finds it adorable.  

“A-and, you know, we looked great while we were doing it!” Rick concludes in that half-joking, half-cocky way of his, indicating their dyed hair and feathers.

High on post-performance euphoria, Birdperson is filled with an uncharacteristic boldness and steps forward into Rick’s personal space, gently taking a lock of hair between his fingers.

“Yes, you did.”

Rick’s face turns redder than Birdperson has ever seen. Birdperson revels in the feeling of soft hair and their closeness to each other. He can see Rick staring at his lips and, without even meaning to, finds himself leaning in.

Apparently Rick feels the same way because the next minute they’re kissing, Rick’s lips surprisingly soft against his. Birdperson can taste the bitterness of the beer Rick had drunk before the show, smell the lingering hint of grenaberry on his hair.

When they pull back, both of them are breathing heavily. Birdperson is overwhelmed by a mixture of excitement and nervousness. Judging by Rick’s face, he appears to be experiencing a similar set of emotions.

“Rick.” Birdperson begins, but before he can put his thoughts into words, he’s interrupted by the sudden appearance of a stranger. 

They both jolt backwards from each other, caught in the act. Fortunately, the stranger doesn’t seem to notice. Xe’s a member of the predominant species on this planet, a scaly six-legged reptile, with a hard grey shell-like structure on xyr back, coming up to just below Birdperson’s waist.

“Hey, I’m Taub, best agent this side of Messier 31. I’ve got clients touring across all six major systems in this quadrant, and I think you guys showed some real promise tonight. If you sign with me, I’ll get you gigs all across the galaxy. So, how about it? You boys looking for an agent?”

Rick and Birdperson glance at each other conspiratorially, their kiss forgotten.

With Taub, the Flesh Curtains finally have a steady set of gigs for the first time in their existence. More than that, they have an actual tour. Taub has just sent across the list of locations and all three band members are sitting around the table, poring over it with interest.

“Oh, man, just listen to some of these places. Alpha-Betrium, Venzenulon-9, not to mention all of our home planets!” Rick exclaims. 

“You know, I wasn’t too sure about Taub at first, but xe’s really out-squanched xyrself with this.” Squanchy comments.

“And that’s not all! Check it out, boys!” Rick tears open a package to reveal black fabric. “T-shirts, motherfuckers!”

“Ooh yeah, gimme!” Squanchy reaches for it excitedly, checking out the illustration of the three of them on the front, then the list of tour locations on the back. 

While their drummer is preoccupied, Rick turns to Birdperson.

“Whaddya think, Pers. P-pretty cool, right?” he asks, and Birdperson can detect a hint of nervousness in his smile. Things have been slightly awkward between the two of them since their kiss, but they’ve been busy with the band now that things are moving forward, meaning that neither of them have brought it up. Birdperson wants to, but he keeps worrying that he’s reading too much into things or misinterpreting yet another cultural difference.

“Extremely cool.” he replies, placing his hand on Rick’s in what he hopes is a reassuring way. The other man blushes and pulls his hand back, and Birdperson is more confused than ever. He opens his mouth to apologise but Rick catches his eye and gives a subtle shake of his head.

“Don’t.” he mouths, his eyes flicking to Squanchy, who’s still distracted by the shirt, rubbing it against his face with an orgasmic expression. Birdperson doesn’t understand the situation, but the instructions are clear enough, so he drops it, not wanting to make things worse.

Rick paces up and down the floor of their rented tour ship, trying and failing to avoid thinking about a number of things. 

Firstly, things have been awkward between him and Birdperson ever since they kissed backstage, and while he knows he’s not helping matters, he can’t bring himself to say anything to Birdperson and risk having his heart broken or making things even more awkward, especially not while they’re on their way to their first gig of the tour, on his own home planet no less.

That brings him to the second issue. He hasn’t been back to Earth since before he met Birdperson and Squanchy, and he can’t deny the anxiety that sparks in the pit of his stomach at the thought of returning, despite knowing that their performance won’t bring them anywhere near his house. Rick’s hands alternately flap and curl into fists at his sides in response, and right there is his third issue.

He’s known his entire life that he’s not like most other people, and not just in the sense that he’s smarter than them. More specifically, he’s not like other humans, a fact that neither his parents nor his classmates had ever let him forget growing up. In response, he had used his incredible intellect and pattern-recognition skills to learn how to fit in around others. It had worked so well that he had adopted the mask almost full-time, only dropping it around a very select few people, all of whom are now dead. 

However, since most aliens have never met a human, let alone have any idea of how they’re supposed to behave, he’s fallen out of the habit of hiding his oddities lately. He’s had enough interspecies culture shock just with the other members of the Flesh Curtains, let alone aliens who are gobsmacked by behaviours such as blinking and laughing, that he’s long since decided to just do whatever the fuck he wants. However, it turns out that, like a too-tight shoe, once you take the mask off, it’s very hard to put back on. Although he’s not planning on spending too much time around other humans, he’s still nervous at the thought of being very openly weird in front of them. 

“Rick?” a voice from behind him breaks his spiral of anxiety and he snaps his hands guiltily to his sides as he turns to face Birdperson. Birdperson only recently seems to have realised he doesn’t need to use Rick’s full name every time, and Rick finds it almost unbearably intimate.

“Are you alright?” Birdperson asks.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine!” Rick knows instantly that Birdperson doesn’t believe him. While with anyone else he would double down on the lie, something about this man in particular manages to break through his defences. “Pers? C-can I… tell you something?”

“Of course.”

“I, um… I’m not like other humans. There’s, there’s something… wrong with me. I don’t know what it is, but I could get by, especially once I left Earth and nobody knew if I was acting normal for a human or not, but you’re about to meet other humans for the first time and…” Rick trails off, not sure if he’s trying to hold back from admitting too much or building himself up to say it. Either way, the truth slips out. “I’m worried about what you’ll think of me once you realise how weird I am.”

Rick keeps his eyes fixed on the ground, fighting tears he wasn’t expecting. This is something he’s never told another person except Diane, and he wasn’t prepared for the emotions it’s stirring up.

“Rick.” Birdperson places a hand on his shoulder. “On my planet, I am also, as you might say, a weirdo. Until I met Squanchy, I had never had a friend. He told me there is a word for it in common, ‘autistic’.”

At first, Rick had found himself feeling relieved and connected to Birdperson, but hearing that final word makes something in him snap.

“I’m not fucking autistic.” he hears himself growl, his heart pounding in fear as he thinks of a cousin he had been told his whole life had died as a baby until one fateful argument with his dad had revealed that she had been sent away to an asylum for ‘the severely disturbed’, the place his dad had told Rick he should’ve been sent to. Rick feels a hot, sick rage bubbling up his throat, his body trembling with adrenaline.

“Rick.” Birdperson’s calm and concerned voice snaps him back to reality. 

“I’m not autistic.” Rick repeats, his voice shaking.

“Forgive me. I do not know what this means on Earth. I had not heard of this word until I left my planet. I merely wished to reassure you that I will not think you weird, no matter how different you are to other humans.”

A sob forces its way from Rick’s mouth, and he can’t believe he’s crying in front of Birdperson, but he can’t help himself. He feels Birdperson wrap his arms around him and clings to him tightly, sobbing against the other man’s bare chest. 

“It is OK, Rick. I am here. I will not leave.” Birdperson reassures him.

Rick fights to calm himself and steady his breathing. Eventually, he manages to stop crying, quickly wiping tears and snot from his face. He can’t bring himself to look at Birdperson.

“Come.” Birdperson instructs, gently but firmly, guiding Rick with an arm around his shoulders. Rick allows himself to be led to a bed, wrapping the blankets around his entire body like a cocoon. 

“Rick… I am sorry that I have upset you. It was not my intention.”

Rick sniffles and shakes his head. “I-it’s not your fault, Pers.” he mumbles. “It just… that word brought up some bad memories for me, that’s all.”

He feels Birdperson rest a hand on his arm and continues. “On Earth, people like me - like us - if people find out that’s what we are, they… they get sent away.”

“Sent away… from Earth?”

“No, just to another place on Earth. A… a bad place. If I hadn’t been smart, that’s where they would’ve sent me, too.”

“Are you in danger of this if we return to Earth?” Birdperson asks in concern.

Rick shakes his head. “No, it’s fine. They wouldn’t do that to me now. They couldn’t, even if they tried. But it happened to… to my cousin. I didn’t find out until I was older. My dad told me about it. He said it’s what should’ve happened to me.” 

Rick feels Birdperson squeeze his arm.

“My father was not supportive of me being different, either. I always felt as if I had to prove myself to him, but he was never happy with me, no matter what I did. I knew I was a source of shame to him.”

Rick lets out a humourless laugh and leans to rest his head against Birdperson’s shoulder. “Sounds like we both had shitty dads.”

“Indeed.” 

Birdperson wraps both an arm and a wing around Rick and rests his chin on Rick’s head. Even through his distress, Rick feels a rush of warmth in his abdomen at the gesture. 

“Do not worry, Rick. Even if anybody tried to harm you, I would not let them.”

Rick’s never felt so protected, and that’s the moment when he knows that his feelings for Birdperson are far beyond just a simple crush. He swears to himself that he won’t lose Birdperson, even if it means they’ll never be more than friends. Now, more so than ever, he resolves not to bring up the kiss in fear that it might jeopardise their relationship.