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#what kind of part-time jobs are you looking at?
lurochar · 2 days
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His Baker
Human!Alastor x Baker!Reader headcanons
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Alastor had heard about you through his co-workers at the radio station. They had even brought a box of baked goods to share among each other.
He's not a fan of sweets, but even he admits your beignets are quite tasty.
You became an overnight sensation, despite only having worked in your father’s bakery for a few months. 
Your kind demeanor and pretty looks plus your fantastic baking skills have earned you many suitors.
You’re flattered, sure, but not looking for a partner as you are content with your life for the time being.
Then Alastor Hartfelt shows up. 
He's an interesting fellow, you have to admit, and you do listen to his radio shows when you can, but you're not starstruck as so many are when they find out who he is.
That catches his attention.
He mentions he doesn't care for sweets and you go out of your way to make other treats such as gingerbreads, coffee cakes, or lemons bars.
Out of your way, just for him
He insists on driving or walking you home as you usually get off work a few hours before his own shift starts at the radio station.
It becomes yours and his routine and people are beginning to talk since you and Alastor are seen together so much in public.
He cares not for rumours (and even perhaps enjoys them a little. You, the sweet little baker, his secret wife?) and tells you to ignore them as well.
Customers who get too rowdy or handsy with you tend to go missing, only to be found horribly mutilated later on and they are thought to be victims of the Bayou Butcher.
Just some poor souls in the wrong place at the wrong time. It had nothing to do with you, much to your relief (though you were still saddened. Those former customers didn't deserve that.)
You're thankful for Alastor's presence when he takes you home. Those murders gave you a reminder there's a killer on the loose.
Alastor would offer for you to stay at his house, but ultimately doesn't go through with it since it may be too forward of him.
You may be safe from the Bayou Butcher, but there are many degenerate men out there and who knows what could happen to you if he's not looking out for your well-being?
He stalks you in his free time, purely for your own safety of course.
He goes to your father not long after, using the unease in the air to manipulate the situation in his favour.
Your father has given him his blessing and you find yourself being courted by Alastor Hartfelt, much to your surprise.
It's not that you didn't like him, he was the perfect gentleman! You just thought you would have more time for yourself.
Alastor doesn't force you to quit (perhaps work less, however? He can support you fully and completely). His home is big and you can bake to your heart's content there.
He has totally fantasized about gruesome things. Are there any baking ingredients you can substitute with human parts?
What would the expression on your face be when you do eat that meat for the first time, even unknowingly?
Alastor feels a thrill at the thought and heat warming his body that's quite… unfamiliar to him.
As long as Alastor doesn't take away your autonomy, you're cozy enough in this relationship with him to continue on with it.
You teach him how to bake and he teaches you his cooking style. He's no pro, but he's got a talent for it.
It may take a long, long while before he ever tries to sneak human meat in your meals, even if the thought gets his blood going. You do know flavours, after all.
You and Alastor are married after a year and you are happy with life – after all, you got a handsome gentleman of a husband, a job you love, no financial issues, and a lovely home.
What could possibly go wrong?
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feistyvirghoe · 1 day
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𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 1 - you guys have such bright, very infectious because i’m just so giddy right now, yalls energy just shines bright like the sun omg, so full of positivity and love, happy as a child fr. i feel like people just like to consume your energy, has them all over the place, like pleading, there’s a push and pull effect you have, like you can be the most positive, optimistic person full of fucking light but then you have that other side to you that has people on their knees, like they can’t hold it in with you, the focus is on you guys, you’re hardworking and when you’re ready to fucking commit to something and go you just do it and get it started but you also know how to be inclusive and make others feel welcomed. i feel like people just want you to look at them, acknowledge them, you guys can adapt easily and may be spread out everywhere, you can’t just stay stuck to one thing and even within relationships im not saying you’re non-committal but you know your worth and some people and things just aren’t worth your time, you’re like a temptation, watch out for users and takers that may want to swindle you for whatever reason. you’re in tune with your femme side, you truly don’t need anyone to validate you and that’s a flex babe…it’s all you, something about the way you love and care for others, never dim that part of yourself, it’s so beautiful, the way you can own your mfkn power is by not letting bozos or losers come in and try to knock u off ur damn throne, standing up for yourself, believing that you’re fucking powerful just by being your true authentic self, confidently strutting your stuff, not giving away too much of yourself as well, connecting with your innermost self, reminding yourself who you are deep down inside, not being swayed the outside opinions of others, you may be a lil homebody and that’s okay..you’re sure of yourself and you don’t need anyone up in your face trying to fucking control you and make u feel small, by continuing to protect yourself in a healthy way, strong fucking boundaries is what needs to be set, don’t let these weirdos try to come in and fucking knock down your walls with their hateration and disgusting jealousy, show yourself off, embrace that fire within you, dont second guess yourself or make yourself small to fit in, burn bright baby boo. an affirmation for u - “i am a badass warrior and i conquer self doubt like it’s my fucking job!”
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𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 2 - your gentleness makes u fucking strike like lightning and i know you’re like “how?” babe we need more kind people like you on this planet, this world is so full of hatred and evil people, you’re kindness and compassion and just love for others makes you fucking strike babe, you’re a giver, very generous individual but i can see that you protect your heart as well, you know not to let shady people come and try to steal your energy, yeah that’s a thing, and you may need to be careful of that too, giving yourself away to undeserving people. you’re so content and just emotionally fulfilled on your own, u truly do not need someone else to fill your cup but im betting there’s a lot of people that would love to if you’d let them, you’re allowed be taken care of and poured into. but with how abundant your energy is and just how rich you are in spirit, of course it’d attract a bunch of energy vampires, just people with weird intentions. very emotionally mature and also vulnerable as well, well with the right people of course but you don’t hide how you’re feeling, and thats literally okay, you’re allowed to fucking let yourself feel free expressing what and how you’re feeling if that makes sense haha. you may throw people off, it’s like they dont expect YOU, like literally just you, your compassionate self. you don’t chase after people bc you know you’re already secure inside so don’t doubt that. maybe you really second guess yourself and how you’re coming off to others but i feel like people just see such a pure genuine soul, not just a nice person but a very kindhearted soul. you make others feel calm, like just content and chill haha. i feel like yall just make people smile, like smirking to themselves just thinking about you, omg admiring you and adoring you, u could be all up in people’s heads, unforgettable, maybe some just want to indulge themselves in you, just be cautious and aware of snakes hidden in the grass. i feel like i could go on and on about you guys, i dont want to make it too long though ;) your sweetness dude, you’re just like a lil fucking teddy bear ahhhh, someone who loves to help others, doesn’t matter what it may be just serving, wanting to be useful to others? maybe ppl have made u feel worthless bc of how kind you are like as if that’s boring or some shit, ignore those ppl, we need more kindness and love, don’t hide that side of yourself idc, let others who want to appreciate you show you their love. you’re also very in tune with your spiritual side and i feel you may dim that down too as if you’re not gifted i mean you’re here right?? embrace that side of yourself, you don’t even know how helpful you are to others, i feel like your generosity and just your pure loving soul is what puts a smile on others faces, so balanced, you’re just an unforgettable nurturer, a whole sweetie pie, a cutie pie ahhh, just such a sweet soul okay here’s an affirmation for you <3 “success is my middle name; watch me fucking conquer.” “i choose to surround myself with people who fucking respect me” and to own your power i feel like you just need to see you more, like you’re the one who can stay calm during the stormy weather, a shield for others, very protective over your loved ones and self, stay true to that boo! <33
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𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 3 - i feel like y’all are my glamorous pile, the ones ready to put their feet on the fucking ground and nobody ain’t going to fucking get in your way and stop you lmfao i’m hearing under the influence by chris brown, i feel like you guys got people feeling like they on drugs around you, your energy is intoxicating and addicting, some may even wanna knock u up to keep you as theirs wtf okay anyways hahahaha okay i feel like the way yall strike is like you’re in that empress energy very strong minded, in touch with your feminine side and you know when to cut a bitch off but then with that, the same people you cut off may try to come back and slither their way back into your life omg what the hell, so you guys are like the “heartbreakers” but not really because you just know your fucking worth more than what lames can give to you and not just that how they’re with you as well, goes for any relationship, you know when to fucking walk away and you’re not taking weird bullshit from anyone, you don’t play, i feel like your anger plays a part in making you fucking powerful, when you’re done you’re done and you can easily see through people’s bullshit, their facade, in hearing shit you up, lol u piss people off, idk what you’re truly doing, it could honestly just be you and your awareness, you’re not going to stand down and make yourself a tiny purse dog lmfao, very sassy as well, like no one can fucking control you, even if they wanted to, you guys make people uncomfortable but that’s there own issue, you may the wrong people for you uncomfortable haha, they try to fucking go and go at you relentlessly attacking you for no reason, so i can see why you’re protective of yourself and u don’t stand down, i mean with weird people like this honestly weird energy like this coming for y’all i understand why, it’s like you’re power makes others want to overthrow you and try and like one up you, just weird, got people competing for u and against you, i feel like they’re jealous of your fucking success and not just material success but your ambition, your drive, your resilience, never giving up on yourself no matter how hard it gets, you’re your own positive light in your life, you know how to make yourself happy, still shining, blowing out your candles, celebrating your fucking self like you should! yeah your fucking power just makes others despise you lmfao weird as hell, you live life on your own goddamn terms and you’re not sitting around waiting for anyone, a leader on your own, it’s like a natural quality of yours, you just know how to be up in front exuding dominance, like a lion, your walk may just give off CONFIDENCE i mean you have the emperor here, you’re just a fucking natural at it, it comes easily to you so i can see why others may feel offended by your power but they’re just projecting and not seeing their own power within themself, you look ahead, you don’t look for others, they look for you, goddamn lmfao! affirmations for you guys - “i’m letting go of negative bullshit, toxic people, and self doubt. i’m creating a fucking epic life on my own terms!” & “i am enough, i have enough, and damn right im fucking worth it!”
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𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 4 - i can see you guys regenerating in hermit mode, like taking some time to be alone with yourself building your power back up and cleansing yourself of all the weird energies you may have encountered, you like your solitude, my loners here, the ones who don’t mind leaving the party early, ready to go home and chill the fuck out or going on adventures by yourself and taking some time to just connect with your higher self if u wanna say that, just going within and seeing that light within yourself, you blossom on your own, you know how to make sure busy, it’s like when quarantine was around heavy, it didn’t phase this group, maybe it was even like a fuck yeah moment, nobody outside to bother you hahaha, like you guys may love to work out and get back to yourself that way, doing yoga, stretching, moving your body, but you may also be very cautious of the outside world, like you just jumped off the boat into uncharted territory taking time to feel out the place/environment/energy just watching where you’re stepping, or what you’re stepping into, making your way as you go along whatever journey you may be on, weighing out your options, not making hasty decisions, a thinker, maybe even a realist too. calm, balanced people here, like a lot of introspection, a very nostalgic person too. embracing the old memories, in tune with your childhood self, doing things that fuel your soul and what makes you feel the most peaceful, maybe you guys struggle with the mind so grounding yourself and staying away from the crowd is what helps you to stay sane and sharp, for you to be your most powerful self i feel like you just need that time away from everyone. yep it’s like you can’t really count on other people, do people make you second guess yourself, it’s like you’re there for everyone but they couldn’t even be bothered to hear you out, don’t give so much of yourself away to ungrateful people. you matter a lot and i can see this may be draining you as well, probably why you’re very cautious, but remember don’t keep yourself stuck on others weird projections and how they may try to take from you, it’s okay to be alone and regroup, if some one is offended by that then that’s there issue. the way u, my group four babies can uplift yourself and own your power is by letting yourself fucking shine and put yourself out there, confidently, i feel like people like making you guys feel small and quiet like a mouse, but you’re not a goddamn mouse you’re the fucking cat, and cats do whatever the hell they want to do, use your voice and own that fucking power, your words hold weight, speak more positively over your life and your self, unbiased opinions and being straightforward with your communication, don’t close yourself off from true unconditional love too..you deserve to be recognized and appreciated for all you do!!! keep fucking going, don’t give up on love, that goes for loving yourself too!! every fucking part of you and yes even the ugly bc the ugly is actually beautiful and makes you see the parts of you that you want to grow from and evolve beautifully into a better version of yourself! affirmations for y’all - “i’m unstoppable and nothing can hold me back, not even my fucking fears.” “my uniqueness shines like a freaking diamond! confidence? it’s my middle name, baby!” “i’m a badass boss babe and i don’t give a damn about what anyone thinks. i rock my confidence like a boss!”
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𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐏𝐀𝐂, 𝐢 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐮 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢’𝐦 𝐠𝐥𝐚𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥, 𝐢𝐦 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐚 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐡𝐞, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐢 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬 𝐮𝐩, 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟, 𝐢 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐟𝐫, 𝐢 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞, 𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐢𝐭!! 𝐢 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐟 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞, 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐳𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐧𝐨 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐢𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐧’𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭, 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐌𝐖𝐀𝐇 (^з^)-☆
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superprofesh · 2 days
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The Five Times Colt Seavers Almost Kisses You (and the One Time He Does) — Part 5
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Pairing: Colt Seavers x reader
Description: The fifth time Colt Seavers almost kisses you — when you finally decide you've waited long enough to tell him what he means to you.
Rating: T
Word Count: 5.5k
Tag List: @strangedeerconnoisseur, @icantwaittoliveandlearn, @moonlightandstarshimmer, @chemococktailonthehouse, @1word (sending directly to the rest because Tumblr isn't cooperating)
Author’s Note: Things are heating up!!! As you can tell, this chapter is a bit longer, and I can promise you, it's got a lot of good stuff in it :D By far my favorite chapter to write so far. I hope you all enjoy it as much as I have, and I appreciate all your kind words and support so much!!
Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 
A week after you’ve made an official friendship declaration with Colt Seavers, you’re back on the dim, grimy underground train station set, getting ready to watch him throw himself in front of a moving train.
At the moment, Colt is standing on the other side of the train tracks, and you’re watching him from a considerable distance across the set. You have every reason to be there — this is the set you’ve been working on day and night for the last month, after all — but you’re not the least bit worried about any of your props or decorations. All you care about is making sure Colt pulls off one of his most dangerous stunts yet.
It’s been a strange week for you. On one hand, you’re glad that Colt knows you have some feelings for him, and that your friendship has been able to carry on without becoming awkward. His sincere, unexpected apology only made your feelings stronger, but you’re trying to ignore that.
All the same, being “just friends” is the slowest, most excruciating torture you’ve ever known. For one whole week, Colt has not done a single thing that could be interpreted as overly flirtatious, just as he promised he wouldn’t so you could be spared the pain. No subtle touches, no saucy looks, no double-edged words. It’s kind of him, really.
It also hurts like a razorblade on a third-degree burn.
Still, it’s better than nothing. As long as you can have him in your life in some way, you’re satisfied to try to quell these overwhelming feelings that threaten to break free at any moment. You’re in love with him — you know that now if you never knew it before — but you just have to be content knowing that he doesn’t feel the same way. That you have to love him as you’d love a friend.
So here you are, being a supportive friend as he casts himself headfirst into a dangerous situation. This stunt involves standing in for the film’s star, Tom Ryder, whose character is supposed to be shackled to a railroad track directly in the path of a moving train, only to break free just in time. Colt’s job is to pretend to be shackled down and jump up in plenty of time to clear the path of the moving train, which is, to your great dismay, not a prop in the slightest.
As the camera crew makes their last arrangements to start filming this shot, Colt turns from fiddling with a handcuff prop to catch your eyes in the crowd that has gathered to watch. He smiles when he sees you, lifting a hand in greeting and throwing his trademark thumbs-up high above his head.
Your heart speeds up at the sight of Colt’s smile, and you wave back at him in what you hope is an encouraging manner.
“Hey, relax,” a female voice says in your ear. You turn to see Holly grinning at you as she walks back to the cameras that are already in position. “He’s done this kind of thing a million times.”
You cut your eyes at her with a smirk. “I’m not worried,” you insist.
Holly lifts both eyebrows and laughs at you, always able to read what you’re really thinking. You laugh with her, glad to feel the knot in your stomach loosening a little. Holly gives your hand a quick squeeze in encouragement before taking her place at the lead camera station.
When you look back at the set, Colt is already in position, crouched down on one knee with his hands behind his back. You know he’s not actually tied down, but even seeing the fake handcuffs almost makes you wish you hadn’t come to watch.
Elijah Gordon, the director, is shouting some instructions at the crew as they make their last-minute preparations. He’s already cued the train to start moving, as it takes nearly half a mile to get the desired speed for the shot.
“One minute, people!” Gordon bellows, situating himself on a camera dolly high enough that he can see the action below. “We’re doing this in one take, or we’re not doing it at all. Colt, remember I want it to look real!”
Colt grins up at Gordon, his face smeared with fake dirt and his teeth shining like a white band through the grime. “It is real, Gordon!”
Gordon gives a curt nod, then listens to a voice over the walkie-talkie. Though your mind is focused on watching Colt, you can’t help the creeping disdain that you always feel when it comes to Elijah Gordon. The man is a phenomenal director, but he’s also the most callous, self-centered, inconsiderate person you’ve ever known. Knowing Colt’s life is more or less in Gordon’s hands makes you feel queasy.
The train whistle pierces the echoey tunnel chamber, and Gordon lifts his megaphone to shout, “Roll cameras!”
You put both hands over your mouth, dreading having to watch the scene play out. Colt looks entirely confident where he kneels on the railroad track, but you can’t help wondering what he feels in moments like this. Does he get scared? Does he lose faith in his own abilities? Does he ever doubt that the stunt will work perfectly? Can he afford to think like that?
A second train whistle stabs your ears, and you can feel your heart beating faster than ever before. You feel like you’re the one lingering on the tracks.
You can see the train now, and your eyes flit back to Colt, whose face is mostly hidden by the bandanna tied around his forehead. His muscles are tensed, ready to spring away at the perfect second. Gordon is shouting directions, his voice barely audible above the racket of the approaching train. He holds up his hand high in the air, signaling to Colt to stay in position.
The train eats up another hundred feet. Two hundred. Three hundred. Five hundred. Gordon’s hand doesn’t budge, and Colt keeps his eyes on the director for his cue to move.
You can hear your heartbeat hammering in your ears, and it takes all your willpower not to screw your eyes shut. You keep them open as if caught in a trance, bouncing back and forth between Colt and the train as if you’re watching a tennis match.
The train rumbles closer and closer, now near enough that you can see the face of the man driving the engine. You hold your breath, waiting for Gordon to throw his hand down in a signal to Colt.
But Gordon’s hand doesn’t move. Another screeching whistle. The train is less than a hundred yards away now.
You know he should have given Colt the signal by now — you were there for the days of blocking and planning that went into this scene. Suddenly your lungs constrict as you realize Gordon is pushing Colt for a few more seconds on the tracks, long enough to make the film audiences gasp.
“Stop!” you scream at the top of your lungs, but your voice is drowned out by the roar of the train. Your feet are carrying you in a sprint before you even register your own movement. Two hundred feet away now.
“Gordon, stop it!” The director can’t hear you, but Holly does, whirling around and grabbing you by both arms to stop you from getting any closer to the set. You can see Colt’s eyes get wider as he realizes that Gordon isn’t lowering his arm.
Everything in your entire being is shuddering, wanting to shut down, wanting to scream, to explode into action, but Holly beckons for two other crew members to help hold you back. All you can do is watch as the train draws closer and Colt waits for Gordon’s signal. One hundred feet.
“Holly, make him stop!” you scream at your friend, whose distressed expression tells you you’re not alone in your confused panic.
At the last second, with the train less than fifty feet away, Gordon throws his hand down, and Colt is already in motion, somersaulting off the track and into the safety zone as the train — all forty tons of it — whizzes over the space that Colt occupied seconds ago.
Holly and her two crew members hold you back a second longer, and when the red light on the camera flickers off, you break past them and run as fast as you can onto the set. You can barely see where to step as you climb over the platform and down into the dingy, darkened train tunnel, tears blurring your vision and your pulse hammering in your ears.
Colt is leaning against the wall of the tunnel, his face as white as a ghost. Several crew members have already gathered around him, but you shove past them and throw your arms around his neck, uncaring of what anyone might think. You can feel Colt trembling in your arms even as his easygoing voice whispers in your ear, “I’m okay, I’m okay.”
Once you’re satisfied that he really is alive, you pull back, framing his face in your hands and searching his eyes with what you know must be a crazed look. Colt doesn’t say anything more; the color is slowly returning to his face, and his nerves are calming down now that the adrenaline wears off. He doesn’t, however, loosen his grip on you, betraying how shaken he still is.
“Nice work, Colt,” bellows a voice from the train platform. “That was just what we needed.”
At the sound of Gordon’s voice, all you can see is red.
Setting your jaw, you turn away from Colt and stride back to the platform with more rage than you can remember feeling in your entire life. Every muscle in your body is quaking visibly, and your voice rings out loud and clear over the chaos in the set when you shout, “How dare you?”
Gordon turns from his conversation with a cameraman and gives you a nonplussed glance. When he realizes that your yell and your power walk are directed at him, he dismisses the cameraman to deal with you head-on.
“Something you want to discuss?” Gordon asks you, condescension dripping from his voice.
Behind you, you hear Colt making his way onto the platform, his calm voice assuring you, “Hey, it’s okay—”
But you’re not in the mood to be comforted. “It is not okay, Colt,” you shout, your eyes still locked on Gordon. Every eye on the set is directed at you, now that you’ve chosen to make a huge scene with Elijah Gordon himself. Colt pulls to a stop beside you, but your words are still pointed at Gordon. “How could you make him do that? How dare you make him do that?”
“There wasn’t any real risk, kid,” Gordon says flippantly. “Keep your bonnet on.”
“No real risk?” you demand. “Did we just see the same scene? Colt was trying to get off the tracks to stay alive, and you forced him to stay on longer so you could get a ‘closer call’ on camera.”
Gordon’s brows lower at that. “Again, not life-threatening,” he snaps. “If it were, Colt wouldn’t have finished the stunt, and I wouldn’t have made him do it.”
“You weren’t the one staring down the headlights of a train!”
Colt rests his hand on your elbow in an attempt to get you to calm down, but Gordon fires back at you immediately, “He’s a stuntman, my dear. In case you folks in the set decorating department don’t know what that is, it means he does stunts. Sometimes those stunts are dangerous.”
Gordon’s arrogance only inflames your anger more. “I am completely aware that his job comes with risks,” you shout. “But those risks shouldn’t come from a toffee-nosed director who thinks human life is something to play with like a deck of cards.”
You feel Colt stiffen beside you, and his grip on your arm grows firmer. “Hey, it seriously is okay,” Colt assures you. “Just drop it.”
“I’m not dropping it, Colt. If that train had been a few seconds off count, you wouldn’t be part of this conversation. You’d be in pieces on the train tracks.”
Gordon raises his hands to cut in, replacing the harshness in his voice with honey. “Listen, my dear, let’s just keep a clear picture of who you are, all right? You’re here to make the sets look good. You do that very nicely, and I appreciate it. So why don’t you keep your little toffee-nosed opinions off the set where the actual movies are being made, okay?”
You feel a shift in Colt’s body language again, but this time, it’s directed towards Gordon. You stand your ground, shooting a steely-eyed stare at the director that would make any action star proud.
“I bet your producers wouldn’t appreciate hearing that you risked the life of their top stuntman,” you tell him softly.
Gordon laughs out loud at that, as do a few of the crew members standing around him. “Listen, sweetheart, the producers pay me to make their movies look good,” he informs you. His voice changes then, affecting a curious, offended tone. “Aren’t you the one who’s been on a little crusade lately about doing everything with practical effects? You want to change your stance and say I should do all the stunts in VFX? Your boyfriend will be out of a job if I do that.”
A few more crew members laugh, trying to reduce some of the tension that is radiating between you. You know you’re the only person who’s freaking out about Colt’s close call — it’s not like he hasn’t done this sort of thing before — but you can’t help feeling like this is important.
“You absolute scumbag,” you hiss at Gordon. “You seriously are going to play this off like it’s just part of the process? Colt almost died—”
Holly comes up on your other side now, setting a calming hand on your shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay, just—”
“I bet your producers would have loved to hear about that—”
“You need to calm down—” Holly says more firmly.
“And don’t you dare try to throw my own words at me like I’ve supported you risking people’s lives for a cool shot—”
Colt’s voice now. “Look, it’s not a big deal—”
“It is a big deal!” you explode, your voice echoing through the train station. “I mean, am I seriously the only one who sees any value in your life?”
Your comment is heavy, and everyone seems to feel the weight of it. Gordon hesitates, his eyes flicking back and forth between you, Colt, and Holly as if to make sure he’s not about to be physically attacked. The usual buzz of the crew is dead silent.
Finally, Gordon clears his throat and says dismissively, “If you’ve got a problem with me, kid, talk to the studio and see if they care. I can promise you they won’t.” He takes one step closer to you, and in a lower voice adds, “And in the meantime, keep your mouth shut about my processes. You’re good at your job, and I’d hate for you to have to get kicked off set just because you can’t keep your personal life separate from your professional one.”
With that, Gordon whirls around and walks back to the cameras to review the shot.
You’re still trembling with anger, your voice drying up in your throat as you realize that everyone in the crowd is still staring at you. You’re not ashamed of what you said, but you’re embarrassed that everyone on set had to witness it.
Ducking your head, you pull away from Colt and Holly and start walking out of the train station set. Only when the warm afternoon air hits your face do you realize tears have been streaming down your cheeks.
Colt is just a few steps behind you, and you look at him wordlessly, trying to read his expression. There’s not a trace of anger or confusion in his eyes — just a deep gratitude and affection. He slings his arm around your shoulders and leads you away from the set.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
The irony of that question isn’t lost on you. “This isn’t about me, Colt,” you state bluntly. You raise questioning eyes to him. “Does it really not bother you that he jeopardized you? Completely unnecessarily?”
Colt shrugs, his brow furrowing as he thinks. He seems so calm now, no traces of the panicky fear he couldn’t hide immediately after the stunt. “If I felt like it was unsafe,” he says carefully, “I would have jumped off the track no matter what he said.”
Another second, and it would have been too late.
“I know,” you acknowledge, a hint of emotion creeping into your voice. “I just… I don’t know. Just… seeing everyone act like it’s so casual and not important. Like your life doesn’t even make that much of a difference—”
“Hey,” Colt murmurs, stopping and turning you to face him so he can put both hands on your shoulders. “You are reading way too far into this, Picasso. No one is trying to eradicate my existence here.”
His tone is light and his eyes twinkling, and you know he’s trying to get you to laugh this off. But you just can’t.
“I know,” you whisper. “I just hate that it seems like I’m the only one who cares if you live or die. Including you.”
Your last statement makes Colt pause. You see the hesitation in his eyes as he mulls over what you’re implying. “Not true,” he replies at last, pulling you back under one arm as you resume walking towards the tents that have been set up for the crew.
“Really? Because you act like you don’t care.” Your voice holds no edge, no accusation. “You get more and more reckless with every stunt, and it just… it kills me to watch.”
You know you’re saying too much. You know you’re pushing the “just friends” agreement. But you can’t stop.
Colt takes his time responding to that. Suddenly, he seems to be really listening to the hidden meanings in your words, realizing that your outburst toward Gordon was indicative of something a lot deeper, something that you’re trying to communicate to him now. You can feel his steady heartbeat against your side, the gentle pressure of his hand on your shoulder. His steps are perfectly synchronized with yours.
“Look, I don’t have a death wish,” Colt explains at last, a serious note in his voice. “This is my job; I love the danger that comes with it. It’s like I said, both of us do our jobs because it’s our passion, no matter the risks.”
You shake your head. “I know. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound like I was mad at you.”
Colt genuinely chuckles at that. “Believe me, it was obvious who you were mad at.”
“I guess I overdid it, huh?” You can feel some of the intense anger in your chest melting, and you let yourself release a slight laugh as you realize just what a spectacle you made: screaming at one of the world’s top directors on his own set.
“Maybe a little,” Colt confirms kindly. Once the two of you step inside one of the empty tents, he lifts his arm off your shoulders, and you turn to lean back against one of the wooden tables so you can face him. His face is still smeared with grime, and it suddenly reminds you of the moment you shared a few weeks ago, marking each other’s faces with your oil paints.
“I shouldn’t have made such a big deal about it,” you concede, letting your gaze fall to the ground. “I just… felt like it needed to be said after literally everyone on set witnessed it.”
Colt nods, smirking at you and crossing his arms to lean against one of the structure beams. “Hey, I appreciated it,” he says with a wink. “No one’s ever challenged a director to demand safer working conditions for me.”
“Maybe it’s about time,” you shoot back, your heart speeding up.
“Maybe.”
The moment falls quiet. The tent is empty besides the two of you, and all you can hear is the sound of each other’s breathing and the gentle rustling of the wind against the flaps of the tent. Colt tilts his head back against the beam he’s leaning on, closing his eyes and letting out a deep breath. You can tell that this stunt took a toll on him, even if he’s not showing it.
Without warning, all the feelings you’ve been hiding for the last few months threaten to spill out of your lips. Maybe it was seeing him so close to death; maybe it was your impassioned rant; maybe it’s just what happens when you love someone with the desperation of a drowning person reaching for air.
Before you can talk yourself out of it, you blurt out, “I really do care about you, you know.”
Colt doesn’t open his eyes or lift his head back up. “Well, if I didn’t, I certainly do now.”
His tone is humorous, but you’re not letting it go now that you’re committed. It’s now or never. “No, I’m serious,” you insist. “I know we’re just doing the friendship thing, but either way, I really care about you.” Colt lifts his head to fix his eyes on you, and you choose your next words carefully so he won’t misunderstand your meaning. “If you ever think that no one cares if you survive the stunts or not, I hope you know it’s not true. There’s one person in the world who would probably go insane without you around.”
Colt doesn’t laugh, but he doesn’t sound completely serious either when he responds, “Ah, you’d be fine.”
“Please tell me you don’t honestly think that.”
“Look, Picasso, I’m just one guy in the world,” Colt reminds you, shaking his head as if he’s explaining something very simple. “You’re going to meet thousands in your career, which I know is going to be super long and super star-studded. You’ve got everything in your life to look forward to.”
You frown at him, caught off guard by his seemingly off-topic response. “Colt, what are you even talking about?”
He swallows hard, looking off to the side and trying to disguise the emotion tinging his voice. “I’m just… trying to tell you not to put so many big expectations on me. I’m the kind of guy who can only let you down.”
Your heart plummets at his words, and suddenly everything falls into place in your mind. He does care. He’s always cared. He just won’t show it because he thinks he isn’t good enough. The most wonderful man in the world thinks he isn’t good enough.
“That is not true,” you declare, standing up straight for emphasis. “You’re the kindest person I know, and the smartest, and the bravest, and the funniest—”
“I think you’re confusing me with Keanu Reeves.”
“I’m not joking around, Colt. When I’m with you, I can just be myself, and I know you’re going to be there for me. You’ve seen me at my worst, but you act like you only remember me at my best. I know it sounds crazy, but I keep getting this feeling that everything in my life has led up to meeting you. Everything you do means so much to me. Every word you say, every minute we spend together is so, so precious to me. You are so precious to me.”
Your speech seems to stun Colt senseless. You have no idea where all that came from — you just knew that you wouldn’t be able to breathe until you had told him what you were feeling. Colt stands still as he processes your words, and you don’t regret a single one.
“Wow,” he finally whispers. “I have no follow-up for that.”
You shake your head, suddenly unable to meet his eyes. “You don’t need one,” you tell him. “I just… felt like I should say it.”
Colt mulls over your words again. You wonder if anyone has ever talked to him like this, if you’re really the first one who has ever looked at him like he hung the moon in the sky. How could I be? How is it possible that no one else has ever recognized you for the treasure that you are?
“It means a lot,” Colt replies softly. “Seriously, you… you have no idea. Thank you.”
You just nod in response, not sure where to go from here. Colt isn’t acting like himself, overcome by some emotion that you’re not sure of. You don’t know whether to reiterate your statements, or to wait for him to say something, or to just stand in silence together for awhile.
Colt finally breaks the silence. “You sure you’re okay?”
You almost laugh at that, some of the tension sliding out of the atmosphere. “Yeah,” you assure him with a smile. “As long as you are.”
He nods at you, his own smile returning in a quiet sort of way. You’re transfixed by the gentle light reflecting in his eyes, the relaxed slope of his shoulders, when he holds out both arms to you, lifting an eyebrow as an invitation.
You don’t hesitate for a second. Why should you, after you just confessed every secret thought in your heart?
You step into the warm circle of his arms, and he immediately lowers his forehead to rest in the curve of your neck. Colt seems so unsure of himself in this moment, in a way that you’ve never known him to be. He’s trembling slightly again the way he was after he had just leaped off the railroad tracks. You grip your arms around his neck even tighter, and Colt wraps his arms around you so tightly you can barely breathe.
In that moment, you know your assumption was correct. He does care about you as deeply as you do about him. You can feel it in his embrace, in his very heartbeat. Every time you move to pull him closer, he mirrors your movements, closing every inch of space that has ever separated you. The grimy film makeup on his face rubs off on your neck, but it’s the sweetest touch you ever felt.
Colt catches you off guard when he tilts his head just slightly to the side, just enough that his lips are resting on the side of your neck. His manner isn’t seductive or suggestive: it’s as if he’s just breathing you in, trying to memorize the feel of you in his arms. Your sensitive skin prickles at the sensation, and one of your hands finds its way up to thread in the ragged-cut hair at the base of his neck.
You can feel his impressive strength just by the way he holds you, but you can’t help marveling at the gentleness of his hands when he reaches up to stroke the back of your head, once, twice. When he cradles the base of your neck with all the tenderness of an old lover, your stomach twists itself into a knot. He’s killing you. It’s magnificent.
Colt finally lifts his head from your shoulder, his hand still resting at the back of your head. His thumb moves in lazy circles, as if he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it, and his eyes drag up your face slowly until they meet your own in a gaze that burns hotter than a supernova.
“I’ve never told you,” you whisper, your breath filling the few inches between your faces, “and I know I probably shouldn’t, but I’m in love with you.”
The words are hardly out of your mouth when Colt squeezes his eyes closed, a look of pain crossing his face. “Don’t. It’s not worth it,” he whispers back.
“It’s too late for that,” you tell him, tears choking your voice. “You don’t have to feel the same way. I just needed you to know.”
Colt doesn’t open his eyes, just shakes his head. “You don’t want to be in love with me,” he says softly, heartbreakingly. “My destination is a dead-end, and you deserve better than that.”
“Colt, I—”
“It’s better if we don’t go this route,” he tells you, opening his eyes so you can read the seriousness in his words. “You’ve got the most amazing future ahead of you. You’re going to be a lot better off without me dragging you down.”
Your heart constricts at his words. “Don’t you dare try to be noble about this,” you murmur, lifting your hands to frame his face. “You could never drag me down, and I couldn’t care less about what you think I ‘deserve.’ All I care about is you. All I want to do is love you, no matter what happens. If you really don’t feel that way about me, just say so. But if you feel as strongly for me as I do for you, please tell me. Please don’t break this off before we have a chance to even try it.”
The look that wells up in Colt’s eyes speaks to you in a language you’ve never understood before. His eyes roam your face, as if he’s searching for some hint that your words aren’t true, some way he can talk you out of your feelings. Realization dawns in his eyes as he reads the message you’re saying in everything but your words. I love you. I’ve loved you this whole time. You will always be enough for me. My heart is so full of you it barely even feels like it’s mine anymore.
He doesn’t kiss you — the distance between your lips and his feels like an interminable distance — but he lowers his face to yours in a way that is so tender, so intimate that all the breath leaves your body at once. He lets his cheek rest against yours, his beard brushing your skin softly, gently. You let your arms wrap around his neck again to pull him closer, nuzzling the side of his face with yours so he feels your meaning: I don’t ever want to let you go.
When his lips brush against your jaw, right below your ear, you can’t suppress your sharp intake of breath. You feel his hands resting on your waist, pulling you close against him, and you can hear his breath coming raggedly. He’s so different when he’s like this — no false confidence, no alleviating jokes, just the passion he keeps hidden from the rest of the world.
You slide your fingers into his hair, and you can feel him react to your touch instantly. He raises his face from where he’s been resting it against yours, savoring in the contact every slow inch he moves. His eyes are closed when he brings his face level with yours again, his breath ghosting over your lips in a way that is so effortlessly tantalizing. It takes all your strength not to tip your head back and drown in his kiss.
With his hand still resting on the back of your neck, Colt pulls you in close one more time, letting his forehead touch yours gently. You close your eyes, breathing in the scent that envelops him — pine needles, cinnamon, and something salty. One moment more, just enough to savor how it feels to be wrapped up in the very essence of him, and Colt pulls back, releasing you from his hold.
“I just can’t do it to you, Picasso,” Colt says, his voice hoarse and strained. “I’m sorry.”
Your heart plummets at his words. It wasn’t enough. All of it wasn’t enough to convince him of your love. Your words are the opposite of what you want to say, but you know there can be no other response. “If that’s what you want,” you answer quietly. “I’ll respect it.”
“I know.”
You take a few steps back, trying to ignore the agony that is so obvious is his voice. Colt still looks like he wants to snatch you back into his arms and beg you to repeat the confession you just laid at his feet, but he doesn’t. He’s too strong, too stubborn, too sure he’s truly doing the right thing by letting you go. You don’t try to talk him out of it. You love him too much to try to change his mind.
You take a deep, steadying breath. “You take care of yourself,” you murmur with a sad smile. “I mean it.”
“I will.” Colt doesn’t even attempt a smile back, the ache in his heart obvious on his face. His gaze wanders over your face for a moment longer, and then he turns and ducks out of the tent.
Once he’s gone, all you can do is bury your face in your hands and weep.
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absolutebl · 3 days
Text
This Week in BL - The Stand-in Stands Up (all puns intended)
Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.
June 2024 Week 1
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Ongoing Series - Thai
My Stand-In (Fri iQIYI) ep 7 of 12 eps - I do enjoy that the other Joe’s past is now coming back to haunt the present. For our Joe, the hits just keep on coming. Meanwhile, I know my heartstrings are being intentionally tugged, but I did feel sorry for Ming in this episode (at the last). And I think Up is doing a great job with this frankly difficult role if he can make me feel anything approaching sympathy for Ming. Ming's breakdown was excellent. Very dramatic.
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Wandee Goodday (Sat YT) ep 6 of 12 - These two are entirely boyfriends who just don’t happen to be dating. It’s Schrödinger’s relationship. It's crazy that these two are already sleeping together and I still can’t wait for them to kiss. Very nicely done. Good tension point. This was a really cute episode but nothing much happened.
In other news, the sound effects REALLY bother me in this show. It might have been in the running as a 10/10, except for those fucking sound effects.
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We Are (Weds iQIYI) ep 10 of 16 - I like how the majority of this show is just basically struggling with first love. It’s strangely sweet and innocent as a result. Frankly, right now, I need that - it’s comforting. It’s not exciting, but I can’t deny that thi is the highlight of the middle of my week.
Peem to Phum = use your words. Phum = SMOOCH. 
Bet you all heard this one coming: NO SINGING. 
Note: Satang (Toey) is a fantastic actor. I love the way he changes the physicality of his body for his roles. In this part, he’s kind of loose-limbed and floppy. He doesn't look younger but the way he inhabits his body does.
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My Love Mix-Up Th (Fri YT) ep 1 of 12 - GeminiForth (AKA G4) are back and glory-be they showed up on YouTube. Still I’m worried it won’t stay there after the Cherry Magic debacle. So I stayed up late that night to gank it. 
Back to the show.
One of the things I’ve always loved about this IP, is how genuine and decent and earnest all of the kids are. They’re all trying so hard not to hurt each other's feelings. It’s all just a terrible case of miscommunication. G4 are perfect casting for these roles. That said, I have the same challenges with this version as I did with the JBL - it’s a bit frenetic and can be clownishly too MUCH for me. 
Meanwhile, the he feeds strays trope has popped up again. 
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Love Sea (Sun iQIYI) ep 1 of 10 - Trash watch here. MAME warning! I found it rather lacklustre and inoffensive but still managed to invent dildo smores.
Knock Knock Boys (Thurs Gaga) eps 3 of 12 - Honestly? I’m kind of enjoying watching the friendships develop between the housemates. Of course I know they’re probably gonna all end up sleeping together, but right now the communal easy-going companionship and teasing is the most fun. Other than that, this is an unremarkable Thai BL pulp with better than normal acting and consistency (for a pulp).
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Only Boo! (Sun YT) ep 9 of 12 - Moo is the clinginess boyfriend in the entire universe. The thing I think I love best about this couple, and the show, is what great communicators they are. That said they are not great actors. I don’t mean to be rude, and I don’t expect great acting from my Thai BL, but it’s a little rough going sometimes with this pair.
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Ongoing Series - Not Thai
At 25:00 in Akasaka AKA 25 Ji Akasaka de (Japan Thurs Gaga) ep 8 of 10 - It’s taken me a long time, but I finally realized what I dislike about this show. It’s the pacing. Or rather, the lack of it. And I’m not saying that the pacing is necessarily off, in fact this is a typical JBL thing. But for some reason, in this show, I find it particularly annoying.
Blossom Campus (Korea Thurs Gaga & iQIYI) ep 5-6fin - Honestly, this was a perfectly fine little friends to lovers BL, with better than average kissing from Korea. But for some reason it never really hit for me. The very end was extremely odd. A bit of a disappointment for a longer piece from Strongberry. I think they tried to be too classically BL and that is just not their strength-berry. Strongberry is better when they explore something a little edgy, or a little outside the box. 7/10
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It's airing but...
The Last Time (Fri YT?) - Convoluted story of loss and possible reincarnation or something. Can't find it.
OMG Vampire (Thai Sun ???) 10 eps - also I can't find it. Comments from last week suggest this is not my thing anyway, but Lee Long Shi very much IS my thing, so... maybe I'll put it on hold for a bit and y'all can let me know.
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In case you missed it
The Time of Fever AKA Unintentional Love Story 2 (Korea movie) trailer released to Korean theaters 5/25. HoTae & DongHee, side couple from Unintentional Love Story are back! Same actors, same character names. I love them. I NEED TO SEE THIS. How?
You Made My Day (Thai YT) - mini series staring the I Will Knock You couple Tar & Bom, started but I couldn't find it. I also didn't try very hard. Apparently it's cute but basically a 10 min advert.
KWill To Reunite With Seo In Guk, Ahn Jae Hyun in Comeback! For those who don't know the MV for his song Please Don't is a heavy hitting shock tactic BL adjacent piece featuring major Korean actors. (The closest we are likely to ever get.) Look it was a BIG DEAL at the time. Kinda like Kpop's Broke Back Mountain moment. More here:
I don't often report on the Kpop scene but this is very interesting.
Next Week Looks Like This:
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Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.
June Releases
6/14 Let's Eat Together Aki and Haru 2 AKA Aki wa Haru to Gohan wo Tabetai 2 Haime! (Japan movie Gaga?) - Continues the (frankly) lackadaisical story from part 1.
6/15 Sunset Vibes AKA SunsetXVibes (Thailand Sat iQIYI) 12 eps - Star Hunter + MosBank on iQIYI for 12 weeks? If nothing else it's gonna be a wild and sexy ride. A one night stand but "uh-oh he’s my boss," adapted from a web series. I’m game. Maybe it’ll have a better story than Big Dragon? Maybe it will have a plot? We can but hope.
6/26 The Rebound (Thai Weds VIU?) - MeenPing are back in their 3rd BL together, a basketball based romance (Meen was a national basketball player, so yay for that). I like this pair better than most (I still do miss Meen with Est but Est has a fantastic looking new BL coming from GMMTV so yeah...) Anyway I'm up for a sports romance starring a man who, yah know, actually played that sport so... I'm game (pun intended).
(Speaking of, why can't Est be a merman? This... I ask you?.)
THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS
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Flipping stellar side couple Wandee, thank you.
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Love the mains too of course.
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This is that funny little unnamed (muli-named) BL/GL something from Korea that's happening on YouTube right now. It's cute! I guess it's falling under the moniker Fake Buddies.
(Last week)
Streaming services are listed by how I (usually) watch, which is with a USA based IP, and often offset by a day because time zones are a pain.
The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @sunflower-positiiivity
@rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire @everlightly @renafire @mestizashinrin @bl-bam-beyond @small-dark-and-delicious @saezurumurmurs
Sigh, Tumblr in it's infinite wisdom doesn't like too many tags.
There's these tricks, remember.
110 notes · View notes
meanbossart · 2 days
Note
Just thinking thoughts about Orin and Drow lore, and idk if this has been asked already, but
If Orin had just disappeared for like a year, not even Sceleritas could find her, with how obsessive pre-tadpole Drow was how would he handle that? Aside from being prideful and murdery, I don’t remember in the pre-tadpole Drow lore about any instance (after he made it to the temple) of him expressing anything else. Did the two ever have a wholesome moment?
Hmmmm not wholesome, no. I'm sorry to disappoint people who might wanted to see a more explicitly vulnerable side to both of them at that stage in their lives, but that's just not... How I envision things. I don't think anyone born into the temple would have had much room to express themselves in the way average people do.
What they did have was an undeniable connection and mutual understanding. This lasted for about 7 years, so between ages 18-25 for DU drow. (Canonically he's currently 28, give or take). I think that, sometimes, they also silently understood among themselves that things weren't always fair or good.
This might sound like a whole load of nothing to some people, but based on the culture within the cult, Orin's story, and the behavior of everyone involved in it, it seems huge to me that two people who were essentially groomed to be the embodiment of murder would harbor any kind of care for one another, even if it was subtle. The fact that they could share a bed, talk shit about Sarevok, and seamlessly work together and share in the glory of their deeds as equals is what intimacy looked like for them - before DU drow's ego (and the very need of a more explicitly intimate connection with someone, to be fair) got to his head.
They killed together, they rolled around in blood together, they bickered and fought and one time Orin stabbed him in the gut and DU drow punched her jaw out of it's socket. Then they flopped down on the ground and cackled about it while Sceleritas rushed in to stop the bleeding. Is that wholesome? I think for deified bhaalspawn who know nothing but that life it's the closest it gets.
There had to have been quiet moments I'm sure. Like Orin waiting around while DU drow got ready to go somewhere, him adjusting her headpiece, Orin slicing her brother's long hair off when he first arrived and looked like some sort of sinewy wood's creature. At night, they probably laid in bed in silence and sometimes stared at each other until either fell asleep.
I am very interested in not inventing an obscured, soft side to Orin that we didn't get to see, you know? While she wasn't always the level of manic we see in-game, she was completely unfit to function normally due to her upbringing, and this reflects in her relationships. DU drow is also undeniably emotionally stunted, just in a slightly different way.
I got off rambling to no one's surprise LOL but to answer the first part of your question - I don't think he would have been quite as dramatic about Orin just up and vanishing, as there's no explicit suggestion of death in that. He would have been insufferable to be around for a while, but in that scenario I could see his duties keeping him busy.
Not to mention that, while through death, she would be leaving him unwillingly - disappearing with no trace implies the uncomfortable possibility that she truly, honestly, just didn't want to be around him. That allows room for contempt and bitterness to fester until you wrongly convince yourself there was never any love there at all, even if just to soothe your own conscience.
He would have just become a much, much worse person that way in the sense that he would have nothing to focus on besides for his lord's will - as horrific as his attitude towards Orin was, it is very much a human feature to desperately cling to connection. With Orin around, he had a little bit of fucked up tenderness and love in him - it was a personal desire completely separate from his "job", a vestige of free-will. Without her, he just has Bhaal and whatever Bhaal wants.
Orin has always unwittingly anchored him, and then, later freed him. And he never ever deserved any of it.
🤷
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The Fuck Up FINAL Chapter 6
Summary:  Bucky fucked up.  A few times.  Will his best friend ever be able to forgive him?
Warnings: language, smut, mentions of war, injury, pregnancy
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Bucky unofficially moved in with Y/N that first week. He never slept at his parents’ house anymore, and moved almost all of his things over to her house. It wasn’t something they discussed, it was just assumed that he was staying. As Bucky started his retirement from the military he got a job at the local bookshop in the small town she lived in. Her income from the online company she worked for and the photography side business was enough to handle the bills by herself, but he wanted to contribute and make sure he was doing his part in providing what little he could outside of his military benefits.
They’d gotten into a routine, becoming the little family that he’d always dreamed of. Avi grew and his sweet personality started to shine through. Every day seemed like a celebration of some kind in Bucky’s mind. Avi’s first roll over, his first uncomplaining tummy time, his first word, his first stand, it all was cause for an announcement as his baby got stronger. His relationship with Y/N was slower and more intentional as they got to know each other in this new dynamic. After Avi’s first birthday Bucky felt like it was time to shoot his shot.
“Hey honey!” he called out as he got home.
“Hey!” she called back from the kitchen. He followed her voice and saw her cooking dinner as Avi was in the bouncer watching “Bluey” and kicking his legs frantically. The whole scene was so domestic, so wholesome, that he smiled widely as he walked over to Avi.
“Hey little man!” he greeted him. Avi turned to him and smiled, grunting and reaching his hands up for him. “Come here. Have you been good for Mama today?” Avi gurgled a response as Bucky picked him up and hugged him, kissing his cheek.
“He was great,” Y/N answered, turning to look at Bucky briefly before going back to the stove.
Bucky approached her and gave her a side hug and kissed her temple. “And how was your day?”
Y/N returned his side hug and squished Avi’s cheek before focusing on the pan in front of her. “It was alright. Got that big project finally done. If I don’t have to answer another email from that John dude again it will be a great day,” she said as she started plating the pasta dish she’d made.
“Ugh, John,” Bucky grumped as Avi made a noise. “Yeah, fuck John.”
“Buck!” Y/N slapped his arm. “Quit using grown up words in front of the baby!”
Bucky laughed as he moved away from her when she tried to swipe at him again. They all sat at the table and ate dinner, talking about their days and what was on the schedule coming up in the next week.
“What are you doing next Saturday?” Bucky asked, trying to sound nonchalant.
“Uh…nothing. Why?” Y/N asked, finishing her bite of food.
“Well, I may or may not have asked my parents to watch Avi that night,” he said, not looking at her.
Y/N’s eyes narrowed at him. “Okay?”
He then leaned forward on the table and looked at her. “Would you like to go on a date with me?”
Y/N’s eyes widened, her eyebrows raising and a smile pulling at the corners of her lips. “A date?” Bucky nodded. “You and me?” He nodded again, a smirk forming on his lips. She paused as she looked at him, her smile widening. “Yeah…okay.”
Bucky’s smirked deepened and he looked down at the table. “Awesome. Wear something comfy.”
A week later Bucky’s parents showed up to watch Avi. They shooed Bucky and Y/N out the door, shutting it firmly for good measure. “Jeez,” Y/N scoffed. “Well, where are you taking me, Buck?”
“The next town over,” Bucky said as he opened her passenger side car door for her. She got in and they drove off. After about 35 minutes of them talking he pulled up to a massage place.
“Oh my god,” Y/N sputtered as he helped her out of the car. “Is this a spa night?”
“Damn right,” Bucky replied, holding her hand and pulling her inside.
They were ushered into a room where they were given the run down of the couples package. When they were left alone Y/N turned to Bucky. “We’re going to get professional facials and massages, and then be left alone to…massage each other? What kind of massage place did you take us to?”
“The kind of place that believes in romance,” Bucky said, giving her a teasing look of looking taken aback. “Don’t you believe in romance?”
Y/N laughed at his affronted gaze. “Of course I do. This is just very romantic for a first date.”
“So you’re saying I have a chance at a second?” he leaned in, wiggling his eyebrows at her. She laughed again as the estheticians came in to start the facials.
Bucky had wanted a spa night for Y/N, but didn’t realize just how much she needed one until he heard all the sounds she made as they lay side by side on the tables getting the facials and massages. Her moans, groans, and whimpers were making him struggle to keep decency in front of his masseuse. When they were left alone with glasses of champagne after the couples massage they both sat up on their respective tables.
“God, that was good,” Y/N sighed as she stretched her legs and arms, holding the towel around her.
“Wasn’t it?” Bucky agreed as he kept a hold of his towel around his hips. He stood up to stretch as well and turned around to adjust the blanket on the table. When he did he heard a gasp behind him and looked at Y/N. She was staring at his back. He almost forgot about the scars from the shrapnel, and quickly turned back and sat so she couldn’t see them.
“Buck…” she stood and moved towards him. “What…?”
Bucky sighed as he let her come to him and she swerved around to see his back, her fingers softly running along one of the scars. “I’m fine, Y/N.” She looked at his face, her eyes starting to well up with tears. “Oh honey, no,” he reached up and cupped her cheek. “Seriously, I’m fine. I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want you to worry. I should have…I’m sorry,” he rubbed her cheek with his thumb, swiping an errant tear away.
“What happened?” Y/N said, her free hand now resting on his chest.
Bucky breathed deeply. “One of my guys stepped on a landmine.” Y/N’s eyes blinked rapidly to stop any more tears from falling, and she bit her bottom lip to stop it from trembling. “It threw me and Steve, we were both hit with shrapnel. Two of our teammates were killed. It took two surgeries but they got it all out and I was healing by the time I got home,” he finished, and moved his hand from her face to her hand on his chest. “I’m okay. I should have told you…” he swallowed and looked away from her.
Y/N took her hand away from his chest and adjusted her towel tightly around her so she could use both hands. She stepped between his legs and reached up to cradle his face in her hands to make him look at her. She looked at him for a moment, then pulled him into a hug. She held his head against her chest and her hands wandered to run through his hair that had finally grown back out to the length she liked, massaged his neck and his shoulders, and skimmed lightly down his back, tracing the scars. Bucky accepted the embrace, tucking his face into her neck as she moved her hands, his fingers gripping the towel at her back. He felt her kiss the side of his head, then his cheek, then she moved his head back and started to kiss along his jawline.
Bucky’s eyes fluttered closed as she continued kissing his face. She kept narrowly missing his lips, driving him crazy with every pass. “You came home to me,” she murmured, her lips grazing his skin.
“I promised,” Bucky whispered back, his hands gripping her hips tightly. “You are my home, honey. Always have been.”
Y/N moved so her nose skimmed along his cheek, her breath fanning his face. “And you’ve always been mine.” Then she kissed him.
It was like their night together all over again. Her kiss felled the last wall of their friendship, and blasted his last shred of sanity. He kissed her back wildly, his hands pulling her against him as if he was afraid she’d disappear. It felt so right, predestined, predetermined, that they should be together sharing this moment. Then there was a knock at the door.
“Excuse me, Barnes couple? Your time is up!”
Y/N broke the kiss but didn’t move far, still holding Bucky’s face. He sighed loudly before clearing his throat. “Thank you, we’ll be out shortly!”
Y/N giggled, then briefly kissed him again. “It’s getting late, we should get home and relieve your parents.”
Bucky hung his head. “Yeah, let’s go home.”
After they got home and got Avi to sleep, Bucky entered Y/N’s room. She watched him as he slowly walked over to her. “Thank you for going out with me tonight.”
Y/N laughed and hugged him, looking up at him. “Thank you for the spa night. I really needed that.”
“You deserve it,” Bucky said seriously. “Can I take you out again?”
“Yes,” she said immediately. “I’d love that.”
“I feel like we’ve jumped a lot of steps,” Bucky laughed.
“We have. I already love you,” Y/N admitted, looking away and leaning her forehead against his chest, hiding her face.
Bucky’s heart felt like it could burst. “I’ve always loved you,” he admitted. He used his finger to lift her chin back up to look at him. “I love you, honey. I’m in love with you. You’re it for me.”
Y/N pulled back and laced her fingers into his hair, pulling him down so she could reach and kiss him. “You’re it for me.”
THE END
I hope y'all liked this one! I got a lot of comments on it being infuriating, which was great. Thank you for all the likes, comments, reblogs and follows! <3
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pantheresssy · 1 day
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In The News (Art Donaldson/Reader)
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Hi there!
First fic and also first smut in a long time! I didn’t remembered that it was so complicated to write, but I think that’s pretty good (not in the end tho). Hope u guys enjoy.
Summary: You make an article not very favorable to Tashi and Art's marriage, and he just has to show you how well they are; by fucking you while talking about how much he loves her.
warnings: smut, +18 only, kind of dom!art (even when it doesn’t look like that, power play, r is a smart bitch, quick fuck, and art talks about tashi less times than I expected.
The marriage of the two biggest tennis stars is on the verge of collapse! Art and Tashi Donaldson share only two things in common: their profession and a daughter, since love is not equal.
Tashi seems very unhappy with where she lives and, to escape, she hangs out in the middle of the night with a loser named Patrick Zweig to have something more.
May be Art losing his so loved wife?
And just like that his morning was ruined.
This article was the first of many that would come, Art was sure. With those words, he would become even more the center of attention, this time bringing the worst part of his marriage to the surface. Nothing but perfection was what Tashi taught him to show when it came to that union, with that matter, everything she took care of, even the smallest detail, fell apart. Everything would turn into a snowball because of a few words and a photo of her leaving in the middle of the night.
Even though he didn't want to see anything else, Art picked up his phone and quickly looked for the name signed. Y/n Y/l. The first to really bother him. He just had to take matters into his own hands.
That's how he ended up in front of the door of your house, ringing the bell without stopping.
When you opened it, the look of surprise on your face almost made him smile. You were prettier in person than in the photos on the internet, not that he would really care about that. "Sir. Donaldson, what a surprise."
He rested his shoulder on the hinge of the door and looked at you. He had a serious expression, but his eyes sparkled with something that you guessed was amusement. "I can say the same. The news earlier today were quite a shock to me, you know,"
"Oh, you read it." The shock weighed on your face. You were using it to confuse him and play innocent, and it might actually be working, if the way he moved was any indication. "I'm sorry you find out this way, but a good story just need to published."
He clenched his jaw and gave you a tight-lipped smile. "I understand that, but you might have misunderstood the real situation. And I would like to clarify things to you."
Your smile brightened. "An exclusive interview? This would be wonderful, Mr. Donaldson. Come in, please." He hummed and passed by you when you took a step back.
Art sat in an armchair facing you, with the coffee table being the only thing separating the two of you. "Tashi was trying to convince Patrick to let her be his trainer, no date's like you said."
"But she was trying to convince him at 2 am? It's quite a anormal time for a job meeting, don't you think?"
He wanted to rip out all the quick answers you had and throw them away before it led to a more tragic ending. You weren't worried about anything other than having something fresh to say and you would wrap him in a web until you pulled the answers out of his mouth. "She didn't want me to know about it. Him and I have a hard past."
You nodded understandably and looked at him with sad eyes. What is she doing. "I know. You took his girl, but not before he took her from you."
Frozen in place. That's how he was. Frozen and looking at with quite scared. Nobody knew about what happened in Stanford, he didn't have anyone to tell, nobody was paying attention to Art Donaldson. "And how you assume this?"
Your eyes shone as if he had made the one million question. "Nothing better than have a history from the ones who experienced everything." And when your smile became more malicious, he finally realized.
"Patrick were never good on telling things," He affirmed, trying to put the control back on his lap. "But the lies he tell must be pretty convincing."
You agreed. "They were, if you being here is an indication."
Art felt fucked. He didn't know how to convince you. You were a journalist, even when publishing those things. It was your job to check the facts and not being fooled easily.
So he appealed for his best quality; his seduction.
He wasn't by far the ultimate guy on flirting, but he could do one thing or other. And, if he was being honest, it wouldn't be the worst thing trying to do it with you. After all, you're a pretty, fucking bastard woman, who he just wanted to make take back your own words.
Art rested his elbows on his knees and placed his hands in fists under his chin. This way, he would look at you underneath. "You know how to do a pretty number out of people,"
Again, your smile. "I would be worried if I don't. This is my job, Mr. Donaldson."
"You're good at it," He corresponded your amusement and ran his eyes on you. The way you're sitting didn't let much to look for, but it was enough to make him flinch.
You got silent for a little, waiting for him to take the lead. When it didn't happen, you took the ball back. "Well, you never told me how you felt about you ex best friend going out with your wife."
He dismissed the question. "I didn’t because there's nothing to feel." It wasn't as convincing as he thought, but it was a will-do answer.
You got up and went to a table behind the couch you were sitting, giving him the opportunity to drop his shoulders and close his eyes. "I could be more convinced if you had told me that you already know and didn't care. Tashi doesn't love you, does she?"
And again, he was fucked. "Of course she does. She wouldn't be with me if she didn't." And he wanted to believe his own words.
"She can't play anymore, Mr. Donaldson, but you can."
A glass of whiskey is given to him and he took without thinking twice. The first sip burned his throat, but the second seemed softer than the look you're throwing in his direction. "She's not with me for it, Y/n. Trust me." The amount of times he had justified himself was getting out of his math.
You sit on the center table, mirroring his position so you would be closer to his face. "If she's not then why she didn't let you retire? To live the the peaceful and easy life you desire?"
Art blinked and took a deep breath while thinking about what you asked. It was a hard question since he knew the reason why, but he wouldn't let you win. "She wants to see me go higher,"
The laugh came out of you easily, so much that you didn't even made any effort to put it out. "You know I'm right, Mr. Donaldson. Just say it." His eyes locked with yours and he stopped breathing.
No second passed before he putted his lips on yours, letting the cup on the floor to wrap his hands on your neck. And for the first time he was happy to have something from your mouth.
You were pulling him by his shirt, bringing him up so you could take off his clothes without success. His breathing was hot against your check and he was devouring you as if you were the last meal he would have. Maybe you were, who knows.
The steps you took backward led you to the drinks table, where he pressed you back with his pelvis, making you feel how hard he was just for that little moment. "Mr. Donaldson,"
Art tangled his fingers in your hair and pulled your head back. You sucked on his lip as you were forced away from his mouth and he groaned. It was something low and hoarse that made you grin.
"I don't wanna waist no time." He whispered.
You pushed him away, not too much, and took your clothes off. First the shirt, the jeans, your bra and underwear. All of this under his eyes. "Won't take yours off?"
He quickly got as naked as you, giving you a pretty view of his trobbing cock. Art pushed you on the table, your ass beating against the tray with the drink bottles and shaking everything out of the place. You loved the silverware but at that moment your mind was running with the idea of him.
His lips were making their way to your breasts, his tongue flicking your nipple sending a shiver to your back. Your hands were os his shoulder, your nails digging into his skin leaving red trails on it's way. "I I underestimated you."
He squeezed your thighs, his thumb rubbing against the Inside. "Why?" His lips kissed your belly and he kept his way down.
"I thought you were Tashi's pretty doll, that she could control and play anytime." You pulled his hair when you felt his tongue close to your pussy. "But here you are, about to fuck me against my table,"
He only shaked his head in agreement, still more focused on what his mouth was doing. His arms went around your knees and opened your legs wider. "I love Tashi," He said and licked a line in your slit.
You closed your eyes and dropped you head behind, smiling. "You do?" A hum.
"I fuck her every day. Not him. She carries my ring, we have a daughter."
His fingers caressed your clit, his tongue now going inside your opening. The moan that came out of your mouth were the most pornographic you ever gave. "Then why you're here, Mr. Donaldson?"
Art left his spot making your hips clench with a sharp spasm. His lips quickly went to your neck, letting small kisses that burned like fire in each part of your body. "To tell how much we love each other."
Your hands went for his cock, "Do it then, tell me."
Art stepped between your legs and he let your hands guide him. Reaching your entrance, his cock twitched as he felt the heat, and his hips went forward with a impulse. He was against your g spot.
His noises were the best thing you've ever heard. "We've been together for years, no fights, never breaking up. But you just had to put something to make us fight, don’t you?”
Art's hips moved away and came back, knocking against yours making a loud noise. The table became unstable beneath you. "I have to give people a good run for their money, Donaldson."
You clenched around him, pulling him tigh. Art looked to were you both were together and stared to go faster. Your smell was in the air between you. "Tashi is my wife," He whispered in your ear. "The one I put a ring on."
Your hands went down to his ass, squeezing and help him with his moves. "And look were you are now."
He could feel the angry again. Not even when he was pounding on you hard you stopped the smart mouth. The way you always knew what to say to let him lost.
Trying to put you into silence, he grabbed your knees. Now, your back was against the wall.
“When I end with you, I’ll be back to her. I might fuck her just like i’m doing to you.” The pleasure in your face made him go harder.
You placed your hands in the table and stretched your back, giving him a better view of your breasts. You could feel him everywhere inside you. “Same position too, Mr. Donaldson?”
Art didn’t respond, just kept his rhythmic, feeling he could cum anytime soon. But he won’t do it before you, he wanted to see you underneath him looking well fucked and sweating. And he would.
Everything was becoming too much. His touch, his smell, the way he pounded on you, his moans. Art was a sign for the eyes, and him being so concentrated on not coming just did it all better. His frowned eyebrows gave him a tougher expression, ruined only by his blue shiny eyes. How good he looked that way.
Tashi was a lucky mother fucker.
Your teeth pulled his lips, chin and cheek. You were biting all the places you could reach, digging hard when you got into his neck. Art’s moans were full of pain, but they were also carried by lust. The sensations were getting stronger as the time goes, you could feel that you would come anytime, so you took your fingers to your clit. The moves were fast and tight, following his owns.
You were lost.
“Cum for me,” He said in your ear and you felt your body shiver. So you did it. You were higher than you expected, feeling the waves of your orgasm hit hard on you. The sensation got stronger when he came deeper inside you.
Art didn’t take long for get out of you, stepping back and watching you squirm with barely disguised satisfaction. Being mother fuckers was a couple thing, as you could see. “I was hoping to have an exclusive interview.”
Art smiled and helped you get down, “Wasn’t that better?”
You raised you eyebrows and shook your shoulders. Your clothes were everywhere on the floor, so you took them and started to get dressed again. “It might have been.”
And he was convinced that nothing would come out about his marriage again.
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After stealing his best friend’s girl and being cheated on, Art Donaldson wants to have the word time!
Not happy about Tashi sneaking in the middle of the night, he decided to give the pay back but in a different way: in the middle of the day! This time, who could possibly be this girl? Her best friend from Stanford time?
Hey!
This was a ride!! Hope it all went good! My english isn’t the best but I tried to do it without google translate every word since I really don’t trust it’s ways of doing it. Please I’m sorry if it all went a mess.
See u in the next one!
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ilovejeongintoo · 2 days
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𝕎𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕀𝕥 𝕋𝕒𝕜𝕖𝕤 𝕋𝕠 𝕎𝕚𝕟
!WARNING NSFW Content ahead! !MDNI!
Genre: Fantasy, Gladiator/Minotaur? Jongho x Reader, Warnings: murder, deaths, time accurate sexism, strength kink, touch-starved Jongho, size kink, pet names (Nymph, Doc), no condom(wrap it up), praise Wordcount: 3145 Not proofread
I need red haired Jongho back, desperately. Why did I spend more research on ancient roman practices than this story, I'm crying.
Summary: As a female physician in ancient Rome you're in charge of minor duties, getting a call to the gladiator arena wasn't what you expected, especially with the first ranked one requiring a little more than some of your gauze and bandages.
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You absolutely hated this part of the job. Being a physician was great and all but the comments from men never ceased to exist. And you were always made to look like an assistant, making countless people die of things that you were sure were treatable, the male physicians always dismissed any ideas you had, no matter how much proof you gave them.
You got the message today that they would need you at the local gladiator arena, that place shouldn't even exist in your opinion, but that would get you to get called a lunatic. As if being a woman in a male dominated field wasn't bad enough.
Usually, they called you to have you confirm that they were dead, you were usually the bringer of bad news and made sure that the important items on the person were returned to the family. Either to be kept or to be buried later in the day with the body.
That was the only positive things about that gruesome place. It reeked of death; the high, white colosseum walls far more intimidating than your little healing hut.
The guards led you through the open walkways getting you into the room with the dead bodies, you grimaced at the sight slightly. This job really didn't get any easier through the years.
"You better make this quick, we want you to look at a few people that are worth more than that pile over there." The other guard laughed. These were people once too.
"Every day, I wonder how they let a woman do a job like this." They weren't saying this out of concern, not to protect your eyes from this view but to mock you from being the gender you were.
"I'll make it as fast as I can." You did mean it, you wanted to get this over with and leave this place.
"You women should just stay and look after the kids, you're not suited for this kind of work." God if you could, you'd punch his face for even uttering a single word to you. The way their gazes ran over your body, undressing you, it made you feel absolutely repulsed. Men, men like this disgusted you to no end, they deserved the pain that Thanatos would give them when they inevitably perish.
They quickly left you, not too keen on watching touching and examining the corpses. You gently cleaned them off, blood grime and sweat stuck to them even after death. They bodies were hard to move around to get to dirty areas because rigor mortis had them laying in the same position after a while. You closed open wounds so they wouldn't leak as much anymore, so that they at the very least didn't sully the burial clothing.
As the very last step you put them on a blanket and covered their naked bodies with a blanket, ready to be taken to the burial grounds outside of the city.
You took your dirty rags and ceramic bowl with you and the rest of your medical equipment. This was the only thing that healers would allow you to do alone. So, you would at least complete these mundane task to the fullest.
You headed back up to the more residential hospital room, here were some guards and gladiators that survived their fights but weren't supported enough to get their own rooms. Just minor injuries and cuts, making you have to cauterize some wounds and treating some with lint, animal grease, and honey. Depending on how deep and bad they looked.
All this work exhausted you to no end but after a few hours everyone was put to bed for rest or were sent off home. Just as you were about to leave yourself another guard walked up to you before you had the chance to go.
"There's still someone you need to take a look at." He started walking down another way, making you follow him, your white tunica being swooshed around. The hallway seemed to drag on for forever until you were stopped in front of a big set of wooden doors.
"This is as far as I'm going to take you, he tends to… get a little aggressive with us guards." He added that he was the number one gladiator right now, so he was basically a celebrity and that you should treat him as such. You pushed the doors open with a short glance back to the lone guard, he was looking at you almost with a sympathetic face, as if he was in pain. Hopefully he wasn't the violent type, you could deal with an aggressive patient, but you weren't built to fight a professional killer.
The first thing you were greeted by was a big room, with lots of dimmed lights, giving it a warm orangish tone in the bedroom. There was a big bed in the middle of the room, it looked as if it could hold at least 4 people.
There were lit candles and torches all around that emitted the warm glow. The next thing you noticed was the hulking figure in the far end of the room, situated in front of a lit fireplace. They must have not noticed you yet because they didn't turn around at all. The door clicked close, that’s when the person turned their head to the side calling out to you.
"I told everyone, that I didn't want to be bothered." Usually you would leave at that, but there must be a reason why they needed to have a healer look at him, so you wouldn't leave until you did just that.
He didn't sound angry, only exasperated that something like this was happening. You moved forward slightly, clutching your things to your body, nervous because you weren't normally in charge of patients of such high profile.
You didn't look at him, out of respect trying to organize your things on a small table to the side of the meridienne that he was sat on. You only saw his outfit for a moment, barely enough to take in the leather pants and boots, a white shirt accompanying it.
"Didn't you hear what I said, do not bother me." You didn't respond, not too sure if you saying you were going to stay regardless or staying quiet would make him more irritated.
He didn't seem to keen on your lack of a response even though he didn't lash out at you. You were done setting everything up and kept kneeling next to him, now finally speaking.
"I was sent here to take care of any wounds tha-."
"I don't need that"
You lifted your head at the rude interruption, quickly getting stunned by the sight of the man.
Fiery dark red hair and a… surprisingly soft face, he looked young barely older than you. Dark eyebrows and eyes that perfectly matched the rest of his face. He didn't look like a gladiator at all. You've been to countless of fights before as a child, too curious to understand the brutality. And all of them were muscly big dark men, they looked like they would fight anyone and anything.
This man looked nothing of the sort. While there was a good amount of muscle on him, judging by the muscles in his arms and thighs, it was like something from a roman statue. One you'd see at the local temples, worshipped for its beauty and perfection. You wouldn't mind doing exactly that.
What?
No, you were here to help, nothing more, no matter how good looking he was. He was dangerous, he is dangerous.
-do something specific doc?"
What? You looked at his eyes. Not properly hearing him.
"I said, do you need me to do something specific doc?" Oh, right, treatment.
"Any pain anywhere? Or any injuries that you sustained; I'd like to take a look at them." He sighed not really wanting to, but seemingly just wanting to get this over with.
"Just a few cuts, on my arms and back."
"Mhm" He wasn't being transparent with you, so you'd just have to take a look now.
You were waiting for him to take his shirt off, but he didn't move a single inch. You didn't know what man-pride was stopping him from just showing you. Hah, this was going to be an even longer day now. "Just take your top off and I'll see if anything needs further treatment, if you don't let me take a look, you'll get an infection and die." You were talking to him like you were scolding a child, patience wearing thin very quickly.
His shirt was off the very next second and you had to hold back a gasp at all the scars littering his skin. It looked pretty, hard work evident in the scar tissue. Evidence of his survival. You took your jug of saltwater stopping just before pouring over a few open wounds. Warning him about the pain that was going to be coming in a few seconds, he just nodded. No flinch, no whimper, no groan absolutely nothing came out of him.
You knew just how much that hurt, like a burning fire the skin would similarily turn a little red. You quickly moved on to put a small amount of herbal paste on the few cuts along his chest impressed by his anatomy again. Hard to the touch but pliable. You tried to be as gentle as possible, as a last step you brought out some honey using it to form a barrier to the wound and disinfecting it again.
Before wrapping him up you caught sight of something on his shoulder, or back? You couldn't quite see from your position in front of him. You reached for his shoulder and then he turned away, glaring at you now.
"That one's fine." Anyone in s 5 mile radius could tell he was full of bullshit right now."
"No it's not and I'm not gonna let you fucking die from a cut that's easily treatable. So turn around or I will sedate you and do it while you're asleep." Welp, now you did it. Now there was no way that he wouldn't get angry, that must have been his last straw.
Your mouth was closed shut tightly in realization of what you had said. Praying to the gods above to help you out of this mess right now.
He was oddly quiet, that made you look at him. He stared at you, up, down, and then turned around. Without any words. You'd rather not mess with his graciousness again, so you also stayed silent throughout the process of caring for his gash, that was a lot bigger than expected. It would most definitely scar but he wouldn't die from a nasty infection at the very least.
When you were done you put some gauze around it, the other smaller wounds had pieces of fabric on them. You let your hands linger a little on his back muscles not wanting to finish out of nervousness of what he would say next and another part of you because you would be able to continue tracing along his body.
That thought in your mind made you stop, today was not your day. You were usually very professional about all your patients. But something about this man pulled you in. Maybe it was the endless scars that ran across his figure or the rough hand that had calluses from hard work, or the dark eyes that were now trained on you.
Dark eyes that were now trained on you.
You hurried a little out of your half kneeling form, not even noticing how one of your legs was on the sofa, knee buried in the soft cushioning.
You were stepping away a little when his hand shot out to grab your wrist.
"You know I don’t hurt women, I have honor as a warrior, as a man." He caressed your hands a little, looking at them, admiring them as if he wanted to figure out how your hands performed the magic of healing his wounds.
Your heart skipped a little at the contact. "I know." You did, he wasn't the type to do such a thing, not with a touch that soft.
"Say doctor, you would help me from all ailments, isn't that right?" He questioned.
"Of course." Had you missed a spot?
He looked up at you, pulling you into him, his chin resting on your stomach as your hands carefully landed on his shoulder. His arms wrapped around you, warming you and caging you against him. He was breathing you in for a few moments, seeming to enjoy the comfort of your closeness.
You couldn't imagine how long he must have been without human touch that wasn't violent or deadly. Someone to hold, to search comfort in.
If he needed that, you'd provide, after all you're a doctor and you just hate leaving your patients untreated.
Your hands wandered up his hair pulling his head back and leaning down and clasping your lips together. Climbing on top of him. You could tell hom much he missed this, messy kisses turning rushed and touches exploring every curve of your body. He tugged at a few stings attaching the flowy fabric of your tunic drop with the help of gravity. His hands finding their place on your waist. And yours making quick work of his pants.
"I missed this so much, you're so pretty, so good to me." You could honestly come from his words alone, your explorative touches from before had you thinking a little dirty before, now this was really happening.
"A true goddess sent down to heal me." His kisses just kept going. "Praise Venus for making you so desirable."
You'd never heard words like this from a man, only familiar with the degrading voice of men. He hiked you up slightly, easily lifting you. Getting you closer, your bodies touching in all places.
Your loincloth and breast covering were the next things to go, he was attaching himself immediately to suck onto your exposed boobs. Taking your nipple into his mouth, sucking, and letting go, looking up at you in pure mesmerism dripping from his orbs.
One hand moved down the curve of your back, over your butt and massaged your pussy. Massaging a few fingers over the sensitive slit.
"Jongho, my name, please, call for me." He paused each time, barely getting the words out over him working you up to your peak.
Your noises were unbelievably loud, you would have been embarrassed but you were too much in the moment to care. Moans and groans coming out of you without an ounce of control, Jongho stimulating you so well that you were praying that no gods above were watching this act between you two.
You were barely keeping yourself steadied, your arms slowly giving out. Jongho seemed to notice and flipped you onto the headrest of the couch, having placed himself between your legs. His fingers were now thrusting into you, you hadn't even notice him pumping them in until you really took a look. His big fingers took up so much space inside you, feeling like the biggest dick that you've had before.
He was still looking at you in that concentrated stare, fully intent on having you cum on his fingers. Which he did, only a moment later. Your teeth clenching muffling the loud moan that threatened to escape out of you. Your legs shaking and clamping against his hand, which was stimulating your clit in slow circles now.
It took you a few seconds to get back to earth and you noticed yourself being turned around, your knees propped up a little, stomach over the headrest now. Comfortable after tingles pouring through your nerves, leaving you sensitive.
You felt your entrance being touched with something wet, round, and big. You knew what it was, pushing slightly back to get him in you. You would be damned if you didn't get his cock in you today. Your prayers were answered at a moment’s notice, in the form of a stretching feeling, it burned a little despite the extensive amount of prep. You felt so full when you hear him mutter a little.
"Just a little more, you can take me." He wasn't even fully in and you felt like he was poking at your organs from the inside, brushing onto all the spots in you.
When he bottomed out you truly felt like you were being pushed to your limits, never having felt like this before.
He touched your stomach, pushing in slightly in amazement that you took him, praises falling from his lips, healing away the burn. When he started moving it felt like your insides were being pulled out, dragging long unfiltered moans out of you. Each thrust had him smacking a little harder against your ass, the skin-on-skin noises becoming almost as loud as you. He groaned and moaned when you clenched down especially hard.
"I could live like this, every day have you here spread on my cock. You'd like that wouldn't you little Nymph?" You fit him like a goddamn glove, he couldn’t even remember how sex felt like before this. Before this heavenly sensation.
"Just look at you." He pressed your back down a little, curving it slightly. And angled his thrusts, hitting even harder, knocking your breath out of you on occasion, not quite catching up on the pleasure and your breath.
You reached your hand back, calling his name, needing something to ground you and he obeyed, grabbing onto yours holding on. When his thrusts grew sloppier more desperate you knew he was close and you were too, screaming his name at the top of your lungs you came a second time.
He spilled himself into you at that, liquid filling you up just as much as his cock did. He carefully pulled out, grabbing a blanket that had been thrown down onto the ground and throwing it over you.
You must absolutely look like a mess but he leans down to press a kiss to your lips connecting you two for a few seconds, stopping himself to not have you cumming and bent over in the next few minutes again, as much as he enjoyed to do that. He pulled you into his arms, your head resting on his sweaty chest.
"Let's sleep or you're gonna be the death of me little Nymph." He kissed your head.
That made you remember, his wounds, making you sit up in his arms and checking him over.
"Jongho! you're bleeding."
He grumbled. Not bothered in the slightest. He pulled you down again, keeping you secured along his body. Not letting you leave his embrace and acess the damage properly.
"You can check on those anytime from now on, don't worry."
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jbaileyfansite · 22 hours
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Interview with Vanity Fair (2024)
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If you looked up the phrase “booked and busy,” you’d probably find a picture of Jonathan Bailey. The British actor broke out as Lord Anthony Bridgerton, whose love story took center stage in the second season of Netflix’s eponymous hit romance. He captured even more hearts as Tim Laughlin, a McCarthy-era conservative turned radical queer leftist in Showtime’s epic limited series Fellow Travelers, and will soon star as another eligible bachelor, Fiyero, in Jon M. Chu’s two-part Wicked adaptation—a part Bailey scored after Chu found clips of the actor singing online. “The fact that it was a YouTube video that got me the job is kind of wild and incredible,” Bailey says on this week’s episode of Little Gold Men.
On top of all that, Bailey managed to return to the Ton for season three part two of Bridgerton, which begins streaming Thursday, June 13 and filmed concurrently with Fellow Travelers—which bled directly into Wicked. He remembers practicing Ozdust Ballroom choreography during lunch breaks on Travelers, wearing his buttoned-up G-man glasses and sharp haircut from the waist up—“and then it was Fame from the waist down. I’ve got terrible videos that may or may not surface in about a hundred years time—hopefully once I’ve died, because they’re so embarrassing.” But then again, there’s a poignancy to them: “Tim, if he’d been born 60 years later, may have played Fiyero in the school production of Wicked. And he would have loved the shiny boots.”
Vanity Fair: As Tim on Fellow Travelers, you evolve from a conservative, religious congressional staffer in the ’50s to a radical queer man living in the ’80s. What was it like filming that character arc? I have to imagine it would be tough to do.
Jonathan Bailey: It was an incredible challenge. For Tim, he’s talking about the idea of religion and faith and what that gives you at the beginning. And I think it seems to have equipped Tim to endure a love against all odds. He never gives up on Hawk (Matt Bomer). And Hawk becomes his sort of living religion, and something that he believes in.
I was like, I want to see a gay ingenue who’s a fish out of water—who’s itchy in his skin. It’s not like he’s doe-eyed and just sort of hapless; he’s fighting from the get-go. He does not understand why the world is the way it is. His emotions are the thing he leads with. And he’s all about truth and transparency and honesty. And I think that comes from this Catholic sort of conservative upbringing. So it’s just the most beautiful quest that he has in his life, to find absolution but also acceptance. But he never stops fighting. That’s why, to me, he’s an absolute icon.
Tim is prickly and struggling internally with his sexuality while also dealing externally with important moments in American history, from McCarthyism to the AIDS crisis. As a Brit, how familiar were you with the American history?
Not enough [laughs]. It was not included on the curriculum. But then I’m not sure it really was in America, either. This is why we’re shining a light on areas of history that conveniently haven’t been included. It’s an experience to explore a character throughout that time, but also the history of queer experience—to offer me, as Johnny, catharsis. And to be in a predominantly queer environment to tell that story. I relished it, because there’s so much that I need to understand about the privilege that I have now and the people that came before me. The fact that there’s five out gay actors leading the show is because of all the people that came before. And I’m telling you, people have been loving gay actors for years. They just haven’t been able to say that they’re gay.
We’re getting more and more queer stories and queer representation on screen, but these characters are not always portrayed by actual queer people. I think Fellow Travelers proves that it makes a big difference when you cast queer, out, gay, LGBTQ+ actors in roles that are queer.
This is so specifically exploring the queer experience over 40 years. I think there was a GLAAD report last week that was kind of disheartening, about how there’s been a decrease in queer or LGBTQ+ characters being represented…. Tim and Hawk and all the characters in this are born into a world where they have to fight. And if you’re ever having to monitor or adapt or to survive, if your first instinct is it might not work because of who I am, then that’s the difference between being a gay actor and not being a gay actor. It’s the fight.
The show wouldn’t work without your chemistry with Matt Bomer. How did you find that dynamic? Tim and Hawk’s relationship has a sub-dom dynamic, and at times it switches. There’s a power struggle. It’s complicated and nuanced and always believable.
[laughs] Well, I mean, Matt Bomer is a supreme being, and incredibly lovely and great. He’s got such a wealth of experience. We met on Zoom to do a chemistry read, and then we met in a coffee shop about a week, or even actually less than that—like, six days before we started filming. For about an hour we said, you know, this is such an opportunity. This is what we’re really excited about. It’s a great amount of trust and a free fall. But that’s the point of gay relationships: There is so much nuance, and the dynamic is so balanced because there’s no gender, There’s no—uh, what was it? Women are from Venus, men are from Mars.
The fact that the intimacy is so richly explored is so important to the gay experience. It’s something that I found really incredibly vital as well—to allow people to understand the way that men come together sexually is also directly linked to how the world communicates to them. You know, their relationship with their self-worth and their shame. Also, literally, where are the safe spaces that they can meet. Even in their own homes, in [Fellow Travelers], they had a window of how many hours until the sun came up and Hawk had to get out. Even there it’s unsafe. I loved that the intimacy had its own evolution.
I’m glad that you brought up the intimacy. It’s such an important part and of the show’s DNA, and, frankly, rare to see intimate scenes between two queer men on television. What was it like filming those scenes?
Personally, I just think, What an opportunity. It’s really exciting to be able to know that you’ve got the space to be able to show what you haven’t seen before. I remember Queer as Folk, Blue Is the Warmest Color. There’s been beautiful same-sex intimacy explored. But I think in this instance, it was how the two characters came together, but also directly reflective of what’s going on inside and the distance between what they really felt towards each other—what they felt like they could say, and also what they felt that they had to do in order to survive. That’s where the intimacy is incredibly hot.
It didn’t seem to me to be an overwhelming ask for the intimacy scenes. It felt to me that that was exactly what it should be. If you’re going to tell this incredibly bruising, tender, detailed love story that’s going to explore four moments in history, of course, you should explore the intimate dynamics. And I do think you can show so much about what’s happening with a human in those silent moments of intimacy. That’s why it’s brilliant. You know, I can see where sex scenes don’t further the plot and they don’t explore character development and they’re cynically included. With this, that was never going to happen because it was all on the page. And it’s important.
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the-golden-comet · 2 days
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✨Motivational Monday✨
Happy Monday, everyone! I’m back with some more motivation to start your week off right (and write) ✨
I’ve received some amazing DM messages this past week, both supporting my works and asking for writing advice. So, I figured I’d share a little bit of my own philosophy here:
Your writing and art doesn’t have to be perfect. Seriously. Humans aren’t perfect, so why should we hold ourselves to unreachable standards? It is inevitable for us to make a mistake, and that is perfectly okay.
Do you know how many times I reread and edited Peter Hart? A lot. There were still a few errors that made it past the final draft. I kind of chuckle when I read them now, and recall that there were typos that made it through print on some of my favorite childhood books. It happens. But…I don’t remember the typos. I don’t remember the minor errors—I remember the stories.
Think back to your favorite book series—do you recall a typo or printing error? Even so, it’s most likely not a big deal. What matters is you’ve tried, you polished, you’ve presented the best possible art you could. And, most importantly: you ENJOYED it.
Art without passion and emotion from the soul is hollow. This is why AI can never “create” art like we can. People get their feelings of anger, joy, sorrow, love, lament… deeply human emotions, out there. It’s vulnerable, it’s beautiful. It’s human. That’s why writing and the arts are part of the humanities.
Look, I get it: If it’s a job, sometimes you have to push through feelings of lower motivation to reach a quota. But I always harken back to the beginning: Why did you begin in the first place? What inspired you to pick up writing or art as a career? What sparked the creativity in your soul, that you wanted to share your passion and vulnerability with the world? If you lose sight of that, you lose sight of what makes art enjoyable: the fact that it was created by YOU. Do you know how freeing that is? YOU are the masters of your own world.
Wonderful people, your art is beautiful because it is uniquely yours. And nobody can take that joy away from you other than yourself. So why not enjoy what you do? Why not find happiness in your penstroke? Why not lift yourselves up, instead of tearing your beautiful hearts down? Life’s too short, lovelies.
Do what you want. Love who you are. Love what you do. Love what you love. 💖💫
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mariaofdoranelle · 2 days
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URDAD - part 5
Lonely TCGTATGG would like to pair up with congenial AGCATACC
Warnings: mentions of kinky times? Maybe light nsfw idk
Words: 1,4k
A little recap because it’s been so fucking long: Rowan’s the father of Aelin’s bestie, Imogen. He kept it distant until he found Aelin a job at his hospital. She works with the machinery and he’s allergic to technology so she helps him out a lot. They grew close. Aelin planned to break up with Chaol, the boyfriend she lived with, and then become roomies with Imogen. But then she finds out that Chaol and Imogen have been sleeping together and oh no she’s homeless now! Rowan feels bad and offers her a place to stay out of the pureness of his heart, but she fucks him to get back at her friend. Now they’re fucking like bunnies but no one knows yet.
Also, Anne Jausten is Rowan’s most treasured digital slide scanner.
Now let’s fucking goooooo
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When Aelin invited Rowan to visit apartments with her again, she was expecting incisive views from a more experienced person, not incessant bitching that ended up being a pain in her ass.
She stomped down the hallway leading to her “office”—the medical equipment maintenance room—and Rowan followed hot on her heels, refusing to take the hint.
“I’m sorry,” he said for the millionth time. “I didn’t mean to—“
“Swear it.” She turned around and crossed her arms. “Swear on Anne Jausten that you didn’t act like this on purpose.”
He silently stood with a pleading look in his eye. Maybe because of the two nurses eyeing him curiously, or because he didn’t have anything good to say for himself.
What bugged Aelin the most is that she couldn’t understand why he was trying to sabotage her apartment hunting. Why would he bother to visit the places with her just to talk trash about them. Yes, she was well aware that those apartments weren’t near as nice as his fancy two-story home, but they were nice enough, especially when the deadline she was given to leave was so close.
Rowan had previously told her she could stay for ‘one or two weeks’, and in the meanwhile he fucked her numerous times. Aelin’s experience said it was time for her to go. Not that this kind of behavior applies to all men, but it does to most of them—especially the hot and chronically single ones, like Dr. Whitethorn.
Aelin unlocked her office—not quite, but it was a space for herself of sorts. The room was spacious and almost as well-lit as an OR, but it felt cramped from the amount of broken and old machines waiting for her to repair, along with a few lost causes the hospital had yet to discard. Rowan followed her inside, so she leaned against a broken anesthesia machine with crossed arms and said, “I have work to do. Are you explaining what happened or not?”
Rowan wrapped both arms around her waist and gave a string of pecks on her neck.
“Can’t we just forget about it?”
“No!” She immediately unwrapped herself from him. “You’re not touching me until you explain why the fuck you’re acting so weird!”
Rowan immediately took a step back, both hands up in surrender. Good to know. From what she’s heard, not all doctors in this hospital would.
“You’re serious?”
Aelin crossed her arms again and nodded.
A sigh. “I’m not lying to you. I really don’t like the apartments we’ve visited. I care about you and Fleetfoot, going from my place to that would be a huge downgrade.”
Aelin threw her head back and laughed. Loudly. His confused expression made her want to explain things, but the hilariously of this took all the breath from her lungs.
“Rowan, I won’t be able to afford a place like yours at all within the next 10 years.”
“That’s why you should stay with me. At least for now.”
That took the amusement out of her face. Aelin’s thoughts were blank as she examined his apprehensive pine green eyes. There was only one chair because no one ever visited her down there, so she sat while Rowan leaned on a machine near her.
“You’re serious? Like, roommates till a better rent do us part?”
Rowan tilted his head, waiting for her answer—confirmation enough for a quiet guy like him. Still, things weren’t looking good. She probably could afford half the cost of his place, but if she paid for all that, she would barely be able to afford food.
She finally answered, “The only way I can afford my part of the rent is if it’s split based on income.”
Rowan bit his bottom lip in a poor-piss attempt to not laugh, which earned him a slap on the bicep.
“Aelin, I don’t pay rent myself. I won’t ask that of you.”
He was offering her a home for free?
Aelin never doubted she was a good lay, but holy rutting Mala.
But this was too good to be true. “What about house chores?”
“Not your concern. Just look after yourself and Fleetfoot.”
Aelin got up from her chair, rounding Rowan with her eyes narrowed at him. This was too unreal. He had to have an ulterior motive.
“No sexual clauses?”
“Not at my request.” His eyes darkened and he added with a suggestive tone, “But I can be very compliant if you add one.”
A beep interrupted their conversation—she was needed her in the ER.
Knowing what the sound meant, Rowan raised both brows in question. What do you say?
“I still don’t know,” she said while putting her lab coat on.
This feels too good, too easy. Aelin would live as a guest in his house, for free, after hooking up for a week and a half. What it he gets bored of her? What happens to her when he regrets it? What if he changes his mind after his daughter finds out and inevitably throws a tantrum?
As if reading her thoughts, Rowan took a step closer, carefully tucked her hair behind her ear, caressed her jaw with his thumb before he murmured, “I just want to see you safe and taken care of, that’s all.”
Aelin closed her eyes, a little overwhelmed. He might be the most thoughtful situationship she’s ever had. She tucked her head on his chest and chuckled, and he pulled her closer, letting her feel the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he caressed her hair.
Rowan slipped a strand of Aelin’s hair behind her ear, his carefree expression morphed into something else. “Will you at least think about it?”
Aelin tried to plaster a earnest face, but the corners of her lips kept tugging up. “You won’t make this easy for me, will you?”
His eyes widened. “I’m already making this as easy as I can!”
Another call urging her to go to the ER broke them apart.
Aelin took a step back and squeezed his hand. “See you at dinner?”
“See you at dinner.”
It was hard to stop her mind from racing as she took the elevator to the ER. Rowan’s offer got more tempting each time she thought about it and, to be honest, Aelin didn’t want to stop the late-night sex followed by morning cuddles either, even if she knew this wouldn’t be permanent.
It’d be good. She could save some money for her masters while staying with him. Aelin knew her place, so falling in love with Dr. Whitethorn was nothing more than a fleeting thought in her mental ‘cons’ list about living with him.
˜˜
Aelin expected to give him her final answer over dinner like any other person does, but when he texted her saying he’d be late because he was needed on a late surgery, the idea she had was too good to pass on.
The sound of his car pulling up made her put her phone down and run to the kitchen, wearing nothing but his favorite apron.
Aelin sat on the dinner table between two trays: one with freshly-cut fruit—strawberries, mango, banana, cherries—and another with little bowls of more liquid stuff, such as honey and chocolate sauce.
The thud of the front door being shut. Slow footsteps. Her heartbeat being the loudest of them all.
“Baby…” Rowan carefully stepped into the kitchen, still with his scrubs on, bewildered eyes aflame as he studied her mostly naked body. “What’re you doing?”
“Accepting your offer.” Aelin crossed her legs and tilted her head in a saucy, near predatory manner while still keeping an innocent tone when she explained, “You said you want me to stay. I thought I’d earn my keep.”
“You know you don’t have to—“
Rowan cut himself off when Aelin slid just the top of his apron off her body, exposing her breasts.
He cleared his throat and corrected, “How so?”
Aelin gave him a sly grin, a little brownie point for playing along.
“Dinner.”
She thrust her chest out and suggestively dipped her middle finger in the bowl with the honey, eyes trained on him as she slid it from her upper chest to her shoulder.
And waited until Rowan’s brain restarted so he could lick it off.
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lutawolf · 2 days
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Hi Luta, if you don't mind answering, what do you think attracted Joe to Ming? And how much does their D/s vibe play into it? I'd love to hear your perspective.
Hey nonnie!!!
Let's go back to episode one and examine this together. I will be utilizing excerpts from the book to showcase inner thoughts, but I will refrain from divulging any spoilers from the book.
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I will skip the entire part about awakening from a coma. Instead, let's start where Joe first encountered Ming's poster. I am beginning here in order to provide quotation from the book and provide a comprehension of Joe's inner thoughts.
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I wanted to share this because I think it shows how Joe feels about Ming and also reminds us that for him, this is still fresh. Everyone else's world kept revolving, but for Joe, he was just on the phone with Ming. Those emotions have yet to be addressed, and we are currently adding additional complications to the situation.
Now to the elevator scene where Ming and Joe meet.
“The elevator door opened completely. The man standing in front of him is the man on the LED commercial that day. He is only 23 years old and is already well known to half of the world. He is the mighty movie star that no one dared to approach, YanMingXiu. YanMingXiu had gotten older. ZhouXiang's memory of him is still a person who is in the teenager phase, one who likes to wear sportswear and jeans. His entire person exuded youthfulness and a flamboyant aura. The YanMingXiu of today is wearing a casual suit, looking calm and restrained. His expression seems to have solidified on his face but looking icy.
ZhouXiang had been in the entertainment industry for nearly ten years. He had seen all kind of beauties, but no matter whether it was three years ago or now, he always felt that YanMingXiu's appearance is most perfect. He doesn't know how God crafted him out so finely and superbly that it's not a surprise that millions of spectators would be awed by him. Even he, who believes that he had encountered many beautiful people, is also fascinated by YanMingXiu.
In his mind, there was no way he could suppress the memories between him and YanMingXiu. From the time when he and YanMingXiu met to the last phone call they had, it was merely a years' time from beginning to end. However, to him, those memories were too recent. This feeling is very strange. It was like he only saw the person last week, and he was still a teenager, but this week, he had become a man. To him, the two years in between were completely blank. The two years had changed everyone and changed many things. Except for him, he not only lost two years of time, but he was forced to accept the changes that occurred in the past two years.”
For fun, I'll give you Ming's thoughts.
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Both of their inner thoughts have now been seen. We are aware that both individuals are in love with each other. Now from when? From the show, we know that Ming fell in love with Joe's back right away. But what about Joe?
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The show did an impressive job of capturing the book here, but the show changes from the book when Ming simply walks away.
I, personally, feel they still captured the fact that Joe was smitten, but in the book, we see Joe being unable to take his eyes off Ming. From the book, I know that he even wanted to go over and talk to him. So from the beginning, Ming captivated Joe. He is immediately drawn to his beauty. Which is fair considering we all know that Ming loves Joe's back. He is hostile initially to Joe for the reason that he can't understand why he is drawn to Joe when he is clearly in love with Tong.
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I thoroughly enjoy the car scene. Joe is accustomed to being able to charm people, but this beautiful boy is not paying him any attention. Regardless of the efforts made by him. Yet, just when he is starting to get discouraged, Ming surprises him. Inviting himself to Joe's home.
“Zhou Xiang felt a bit bored seeing Yan Mingxiu's cold and detached attitude. Although he was itching to sound Yan Mingxiu out, he could tell Yan Mingxiu was completely uninterested in him. Even if Yan Mingxiu was gay, what did it matter? Being homosexual wasn't anything special. If two men liked the look of each other, both would have realized already. Who had the patience to unearth if the other person was beautiful inside? Even though Zhou Xiang felt that it was a pity, he wasn't a petty person. Being able to accompany such an unrivalled beauty on the way home in a traffic jam under the heavy rain was already very wonderful. He'll just make do with sexually fantasizing about him in his head. He should tightly zip his mouth, behave, and drive the car to avoid annoying him.”
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Okay, so from everything I've shown you. You can clearly see that Joe has a submissive personality.
The sexual scene in the show effectively showcases their mutual sexual attraction. However, the scene itself doesn't match up with what is in the book. Having said that, I believe that the show aligns more closely with their individual traits, and I found that I liked it more than the book.
Okay, back to the show. Ming being aggressive is a turn on for Joe. It allows him the opportunity to not think. He has been making his own choices for a long time, so this is a chance for him to relax. That however doesn't extend to letting Ming top without first mentally preparing for it.
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Joe immediately rejects Ming, going home. Why? Because he is tired of being alone. So Joe cooks and feeds Ming. As Joe begins to care and charm Ming, the attraction between the two builds. Both individuals experiencing a diminished sense of loneliness. Please keep in mind that Ming has lived abroad for years, with only the occasional visits from his family. He is just as lonely as Joe.
“After the meal, YanMingXiu continued to watch TV while ZhouXiang went to clean up the kitchen.
After cleaning up, ZhouXiang brought out the dessert and tea. He had not entertained anyone in his home for a long time. He rarely had people over. Even if he brought back anyone; they certainly wouldn't sit down to have tea and chat.
Although it is a pity that he and YanMingXiu couldn't achieve the goal (sex), sitting and chatting with him on this rainy night is quite romantic, so ZhouXiang's mood has been good.”
Moving on to the scene of the one on the floor and the other on the bed. Notice the threat that gets Joe on the bed with Ming. Joe had just pointed out that a man like him cannot sleep on the floor, so Ming told him to get up here, or he would get on the floor. Joe immediately gives in to the pressure.
The thought of being Joe's first means something to Ming, but he warns Joe. Ming isn't a nice person, but he can be unexpectedly kind, but Joe wants Ming. Take a look at his face after he has tucked Ming in. He is content because he is not sleeping alone. He has a beautiful boy beside him, that seems to need him as much as he needs to care for someone.
So why do they like each other? They are both physically attracted to each other, and one prefers to be commanded, while the other enjoys commanding. One needs to be able to take care of someone, and the other expects others to take care of him. Add in the fact that they're both lonely, and somehow Joe was able to sneak past Ming's intimidating walls of mistrust to ease his loneliness.
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There you have it, this is what my opinion any ways. Sorry it got so long, nonnie. It just kind of happened. 💜💜💜
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Egg Fried Rice
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Rating: General Audiences Pairing: Geto Suguru x Original Female Character Characters: Geto Suguru, Original Female Character of Color Additional Tags: Fluff, Mentions of food and alcohol, Flirting, Pre-established friendship, Geto and OC are roommates, There is some suggestiveness near the end, This is part of a series
Summary:
“I was,” she admits, “but I realized I didn’t feel like working out tonight and decided to make greasy food instead.” She raises an eyebrow, taking his spoon from him and helping herself to his bowl of fried rice. “And anyway, I’m allowed to eat and drink whatever I want, Suguru.”
“The point of cooking enough for both of us is so we can each have our own… is it not?” He looks pointedly at the spoon in her hand. 
“It tastes better when I take it from you,” she laughs. She holds a spoonful of rice up to his mouth. He hesitates only for a moment before letting her feed him. 
“You’re definitely different,” he chuckles once he’s done chewing. He doesn’t realize he’s said the words aloud until she goes quiet, her brown eyes wide and staring. 
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Part 1: Sundane (it isn't necessary to read this one first, but it gives you some context)
A/N: What kind of writer would I be if I didn't use my personal issues as inspiration? :)
Read on AO3
He feels a little like a creep watching her this way, but he can’t help it. 
There’s something different about her. Suguru has been trying to pinpoint it for months - the change in her that’s made her seem less sweet, less timid and accommodating to the world around her. It’s almost as if there’s something that’s been lying dormant inside of her for a long time and is now finally starting to awaken.
Perhaps it’s the confidence she’s gained from the way she’s been sculpting her body. The little corner of the living room that they’ve designated as their home gym has undergone its own changes over the past half year to match her increase in strength and endurance: heavier free weights added to her personal collection, more resistance bands, a wider variety of kettlebells. She likes to say that she can’t completely change the body she was born with, but she’s trying her best to make it into the body she wants. 
He hasn’t said as much to her, but her efforts are paying off in a way that makes him look twice at her sometimes.
Or perhaps the change is because of her hair. 
After four years of letting it grow long, she’d decided she needed something different. He’d come home one day to find her in her bathroom with trimming shears in her hand. “I feel so liberated,” she’d told him, a satisfied smile on her face as she admired the haircut she’d given herself. He’d certainly been impressed that she’d had the courage to cut it at all, let alone to do such a good job of it on her own. 
He likes it. He thinks it suits her.
And while those things have brought about changes that Suguru can see, he thinks it’s probably the things he can’t see that truly make her look different. 
The sadness in her eyes is gone. He doesn’t see that wistful look in her gaze whenever certain songs come on. Suguru knows who those songs reminded her of. 
He doesn’t hear her crying in her bedroom anymore, the way she did every night for long months after the breakup. There is no longer the sound of her trying to muffle her sobs into her pillow. 
She frowns less and sleeps more.
She seems less… haunted. Suguru knows that those feelings that once pained her haven’t disappeared completely - and perhaps they never will - but he has noticed the difference in how she carries them. They no longer seem as heavy as they did before. 
He’s always liked the way she looks, but the things that are different about her now have enhanced that. 
They’ve made her more appealing. 
She hasn’t noticed him yet. She’s shimmying and shaking around the kitchen to whatever is playing through her noise-canceling headphones, chopping vegetables and combining ingredients to the beat of the song she’s listening to. 
Suguru could watch her like this forever, but he doesn’t want to get caught.
He waits until she’s turned part of the way towards the living room before raising one hand in a lazy wave to catch her attention. 
And then he promptly curses his own heart for the way its tempo increases as her eyes light up and she smiles at him. 
“Welcome home,” she calls loudly. She seems to remember that she’s wearing the headphones and pulls them off of her head to let them rest around her neck. “Sorry,” she says sheepishly, in a softer tone. “I can never really hear how loud my voice is when I’m wearing these.”
“Mm,” he grunts softly, making his way over to the bar that separates the kitchen from the rest of the apartment. He leans forward, squinting at the skillet on the stove. “What’s that? It smells good.”
“Just egg fried rice,” she answers as she stirs oyster sauce into the skillet. She looks at him over her shoulder. “Nothing as fancy as what the magnificent Geto Suguru would make for one of his clients, I’m afraid.”
“My clients are all rich, picky assholes with weird food preferences,” he replies. “I wouldn’t want what they eat anyway.”
She makes a little noise of agreement as she scoops fried rice into a bowl and sets it on the bar in front of him. “Beer?”
“Yeah, please.”
Rummaging in the fridge for a few seconds yields two bottles of the IPA they both favor. She smiles triumphantly and pops the caps off of them, setting one down on the bar and taking a swig from the other one.
“You allowed to have beer?” He asks the question teasingly around a mouthful of food, motioning to the clothes she’s wearing. “Thought you might be getting ready for a workout.”
“I was,” she admits, “but I realized I didn’t feel like working out tonight and decided to make greasy food instead.” She raises an eyebrow, taking his spoon from him and helping herself to his bowl of fried rice. “And anyway, I��m allowed to eat and drink whatever I want, Suguru.”
“The point of cooking enough for both of us is so we can each have our own… is it not?” He looks pointedly at the spoon in her hand. 
“It tastes better when I take it from you,” she laughs. She holds a spoonful of rice up to his mouth. He hesitates only for a moment before letting her feed him. 
“You’re definitely different,” he chuckles once he’s done chewing. He doesn’t realize he’s said the words aloud until she goes quiet, her brown eyes wide and staring. 
“Me?” She shakes her head, filching another spoonful of his rice. He lets her. “Different?”
He’s said the words now and there’s no point in trying to recall them. The question he asks himself now is how much of what he’s thinking does he want to reveal. “Different,” he repeats. 
She gives him a measured look. “Is that good or bad?”
“Isn’t that a trick question?”
Suguru doesn’t know why his rebuttal question makes her laugh, but it does. She doesn’t seem upset, so he decides to take a gamble and be honest. “I’ll say that it’s good,” he starts slowly, watching in amusement as she continues eating from the bowl of fried rice she’d fixed for him, “but I don’t want you to think it means everything about the way you were before was bad.”
“Oh?” She takes a swig of her beer. “And how was I before?” 
“Sad,” Suguru answers bluntly. “Heartbroken… insecure.”
The hand holding her bottle of beer pauses in midair, halfway to the counter. Instead of setting it down, she raises it back to her mouth, draining what’s left. “Congratulations on seeing something not many people have gotten to see,” she murmurs. “Me at my worst. How you can say that wasn’t bad is beyond me.”
“You’re still you, just different. More confident… and happier.” He picks up his neglected spoon. “You ate all my rice,” he laughs, pointing to the empty bowl in front of him.
She laughs with him. “I’m sorry. Here---” She leans over and kisses his cheek. “A kiss to make it up to you.”
He shrugs, trying to ignore the way an innocent kiss on the cheek makes him feel and hoisting himself off of the barstool to join her in the kitchen. He scoops more rice from the pan into his bowl, and she watches him. “You look good,” he tells her solemnly, his eyes still on the food. “Not just your body---”
“Oh, are you saying you’ve noticed my body?” She teases him, bumping her hip against his playfully. “In what way, if I may ask?”
Suguru actually short-circuits for a split second as his brain decides that it needs to conjure up specific images of the two of them in compromising positions. “What the fuck, Val… I’m trying to be decent here.”
His explosive words seem to catch her by surprise. “Wait… what?” 
“I said, I’m trying to be decent here.”
He expects her to laugh, to brush off what he’s saying - and what it implies - as a joke. 
She doesn’t.
“Since when have you worried about being decent?” She studies him, her head inclined to the side curiously. “You know one of the things I’ve always loved most about you is that you say what’s on your mind, no matter what it is.”
“I don’t think you want me to say what’s on my mind right now.”
She gazes at him levelly. “What makes you think I can’t guess what’s on your mind right now?” Before he can answer, she speaks again. “What makes you think what’s on your mind isn’t what’s also on my mind?”
He stands in the middle of the kitchen, a steaming bowl of food in one hand and his half-drunk beer in the other. There are a million and one thoughts racing through his mind, and somehow his brain pinpoints just one to voice. “What about… that guy?”
She takes a beat to digest his question and what it means. “He’s…” She trails off and looks briefly away from him. When she looks back, her mouth is twisted into a bitter smile. “Weren’t you there? You witnessed it firsthand - how it all blew up in my face. You saw it for yourself… I’m toxic.” She reaches out, plucking his IPA from his hand and polishing it off.
He tries - and fails - not to notice the way her lips fit around the mouth of the bottle, and the way her tongue darts out to taste the beer before she swallows it. “Toxic?” 
Her mouth twists again. This time it’s not quite a smile. “Toxic.”
“Hm. Toxic isn’t the word I would use, but that’s a conversation for another time.” Suguru moves closer to her, until he’s backed her up against the kitchen counter and there’s no space left between their bodies. “What you are is a food and drink thief,” he asserts, his voice low and quiet. “Fixing me food and giving me beer just to take it back for yourself.”
“I told you,” she whispers. “It tastes better when I take it from you.” 
His eyes are on her lips. “You realize I’m not that guy.” It isn’t a question. “He was a good guy. I’m not.”
“I know who you are, Suguru,” she laughs, a little breathlessly. “We’ve been roommates for three years now. I see how women look at you, before and after they’ve been with you.” She pauses, and her next words are pitched low and quiet. “And I know enough not to get attached. I’d be stupid to think I could ever fill that space.” 
“So you’re not looking to?” I’d let you, if you wanted. He doesn’t voice the thought.
“Why would I? I’d never be able to compare anyway.” She swallows the words she really wants to say, looking away from him again with a shrug. “Besides, aren’t you scared I’m gonna poison you?” 
Experimentally, he lowers his head and presses a kiss to her neck. He likes the sound she makes when he does that. “The new you seems like she wouldn’t give a fuck whether or not she poisoned me,” he chuckles into her skin. “Or anybody else, for that matter.” He raises his head so he can meet her eyes. “Am I right?”
“Maybe,” she assents, bottom lip caught in her teeth. She pauses, then: “I thought you were hungry.”
He casts a glance over his shoulder at his neglected bowl of fried rice. “I was.”
She reaches up, toying with the tie that his hair is gathered in. After a moment she tugs on it, letting his hair loose and recapturing his attention. “And now?”
He looks back at her. “The rice will be there. Right now, there’s something else I wanna do.”
“What a coincidence,” she laughs, raking her fingers through his newly-freed hair. “There’s something I’d like to do, too.”
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Tag List: @strawberry1042 @darkfaerietails @jay220a @fattybattysblog @suguru-nugget @senseifupa @aleigant @gigiculona @rahuratna @tsukimefuku @whatshernameis
About Me | My Other Fics | AO3
End Note: This series will have an NSFW part 3. If you'd like to be tagged in it (or any of my other fics), feel free to let me know!
-Val 💙
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Korey Adiel~
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a rant about my gal for @aspenm00n to use as a ref ^_^
Korey 'Hathai' Adiel
Thai/Korean
19-20 years old
Height is 5'3
AFAB at birth but she's a Demigirl and Bisexual ^_^
She has Hypomania and Face blindness
Mbti is ENTP-A
chaos chaos chaos all throughout life
She was born to a pretty wealthy couple, problem was they were very, very neglective, forgetting about her existence even.
And from birth, girlie was already very energetic
She has 2 brothers, the older one is Esra at 24 y/o. and the younger is Noah at 14 y/o.
Now, Esra has already cut his parents off, and he absolutely refuses to see them again. He has a job, and a family now, and he's not about to let them ruin it.
Noah is kind of like a golden child, but he's actually aware of how his parents treated his older siblings. Planning to leave his home at his 15th birthday and go live with his brother.
Now with Korey is a little different. Her parents have only acknowledged her when they need to take her somewhere with them to keep up their reputation.
Desperate to make her parents notice her, she started putting herself in seriously dangerous situations at only 6 y/o, going as far as to try to gouge her eyes out with scissors to give them to her parents so they'd use them to look at her, she did that when she was 9.
Don't worry though, Esra found her before she actually gouged out her eyes.
The village people didn't really like Korey that much..
That didn't stop her from being even more reckless, however. From jumping off a cliff to almost drowning herself, safe to say she has a LOT of scars from her careless endeavors.
The only few scars she has that aren't from her purposefully putting herself in danger is one on her back, a huge claw like scar from when her and her friend Jay were attacked by a most likely drugged halfblood. Unfortunately, Jay didn't survive the attack, leaving Korey with scars and guilt.
While she did become a hunter out of rage to kill the halfblood.. As much as she wanted to deny it, it was also just for the thrill of it. Also because of a deal I talked about in part 2
I mean, comon! This is like the one job there is where they'll let you run around with weapons and put yourself in danger! Also, she knew that there's no point in harming the other halfbloods because they weren't the ones who killed Jay. Also, other than the thrill, this is like the perfect choice for her to prove that she isn't as apathetic, that she does care and is trying to make a "change" even if she thinks it's wrong
She's pretty indifferent with halfbloods at first, doesn't really mind their existence as long as they hurting anyone
Also, girlie is so fast to trust someone?? But it doesn't really show?? She was often criticized as being heartless by the village people, which ultimately became one of her reasons of becoming a hunter
When she goes manic, girlie is so SO much hyper then she already is, not being able to sleep for days from how energetic she is, ruining her mental health even more
Has a terrible habit of hurting herself when she's in a manic state, especially if she doesn't have her necklace on her
Also girlie is so shit cooking?? The amount of times she burnt water is concerning
And the number of times she'd got lost is worrying- please do not leave this girl by herself for more than 5 minutes or she will end up in another village, that's how bad her sense of direction is
And uh...i think that's it! I do have other posts explaining some things about Korey here, here two, here three, and here four <3
Sigh...adding this again, because tumblr deleted it-
Korey is friends with all of the bugs! But I decided to write a lil rant about what she thinks of some of em :3
Raine and Esther: they're the other founders!! Of course she likes them <3 they're both like sisters to her! Esther more mother figure then sisters, they would always go do errands together! (And because Korey is always getting lost) @willowve01 @asmrbrainrot
East, Lucy and LilyAnn: Korey's other parental figures :3, East more grandpa lol- she always goes to them for advice! Whether it be about Combat, relationships, or just to rant! Also loves to bother them with her energy (lovingly ofc) @itsargyle @castbracelet240 @tiefling-chaos
Her, Azren, and Ulysses are the no sleep trio lol, they'd stay up together to chat about whatever is on their mind, maybe even go on a little night outing while they're at it! @strayharmony943 @lunaritychuwolf
Loves Reya and Melody's energy! Always goes to dance practice with me when she's offered! @kaiamtt @iistxrmyskyii
Joan and Emerald are her clothing designers lol- they'd sometimes have a fashion runway for no reason but to try on new clothes and feel good about themselves <3 @rustycopper4use @aspenm00n
Amber and Victor! Loved to trade drawings with them! They all sometimes have little hangouts where they'd just draw whatever comes to their mind on eachothers notebook! @astralbulldragon13 @littlesiren79
And that's all! Tumblr istg if you delete this again I'll actually explode and itll be on your hands
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“Breathe it in baby, because I am EXUDING and I am one of a kind.”
Okay so, I fell behind in Doctor Who because I’ve been job searching for like seven fucking months and a few weeks ago one came up that could be a good fit so I was trying to super focus on doing well through the interview loop even though I was pretty sure it wasn’t going to amount to anything because I’d gone through a ton of interview loops by that point but 
Y’ALL, I GOT THAT JOB! My horrible, soul-sucking ordeal is finally over, the paperwork is signed and I have a start date and everything has settled. Which means, I can finally catch up on 15 and my girl Ruby. 
Let’s gooooo!
73 Yards
Alright, I know there was upset around this episode because everyone is like ‘what the eff does it mean?’ but ooooh, I really enjoyed it. It was creepy as HELL and it just never stopped.
Wherein, Ruby and the Doctor pop over to Wales (this mofo really spends much too much time in Wales) and while on a cliffside, he steps on something AGAIN!!!!! and everything goes wrong.
Baby boy, did you not learn anything from the mine? Do you not take a scan around when you land somewhere, or are you just too excited about being adorable in your little yellow jacket and the hat and the stripes? You look fantastic, I get it, but peep down at those cute ass boots once in a while. 
I have to say, I’m impressed by Millie Gibson in this episode. It’s a lot of pressure to put on her to carry the entire thing, and she did it really well. How devastating is it to have your best friend disappear, realize you’re being followed by some crazy apparition that literally scares anyone and everyone away from you? 
Without any explanation. That’s the part that gets me. She becomes a piranha with this horrific THING attached to her and everyone she begs for help leaves her. Eve her MOTHER! It’s a mind fuck.
And I really wasn't sure where the episode was going, so I was excited for Kate Lethbridge-Stewart to show up, I was like ‘yeah let’s get UNIT into this mess’ and then she’s affected too and oh hell, that’s like, the last line of defense. 
Ruby, completely and utterly alone. And they just make her live out her entire life like that. And she tries to fix it, of course, the whole thing with the Welsh politician was a really good attempt babe, I would have done the same thing but then that doesn’t even work?!
And so everyone is all ruffled because, what was the point of it, really? What was the message, what was the meaning??!
Was she actually the apparition? If not, who was she? And then, it just ends and none of it ever really happened at all and there’s absolutely no resolution. 
Why do we love making companions live these horrible alternate timelines? How many times did we make Amy live different lives? I feel like she at least remembered most of them. But with Ruby in this one, there’s no lesson. She learns nothing, neither of them do.
But still, I loved the creeping sense of unease, so I guess I don’t really need all the details.
Dot and Bubble
I’m simultaneously annoyed and intrigued by shows that keep telling me allegories about the dangers of technology and how dependent we are on it. So far, it’s mostly been annoyed, but oh my god y’all really hit the nail on the head with this one.
Wherein, a bunch of privileged youths are existing in a perfect society that enables them to basically LIVE social media, literally surrounded by a bubble that feeds them other people’s inanity all day long. 
One thing I have to say about this episode is that the angles are something else. Lindy, the girl we’re seeing everything through is alternately absolutely beautiful, and kind of weird looking? She’s got perfect social media face. Is that a weird thing to say? I stand by it. It’s like she’s covered in the perfect ring light. It was distracting. And probably part of the point. 
Basically, this girl has no idea that there are monsters in her fake ass society that are eating her friends, and she is very not into the Doctor and Ruby trying to help her. Like, they’re trying to get her out of danger, only to find out that she doesn’t have any idea how to walk without wearing her ‘bubble’ is so deeply disturbing. Watching this girl say “forward” to convince herself to move is amazing and upsetting on a lot of different levels. 
And then out of nowhere, media star Ricky September shows up and he literally starts giving her directions like the bubble would do and I’m like ‘okay that’s interesting’, we’re subverting the idea that this incredibly popular personality is a vapid idiot because it turns out he READS and he’s taking pity on this girl that is literally a shell of a person without the aid of technology. And it was so sweet. 
Basically, this episode is infuriating because at one point Lindy hugs Ricky and tells him she’s never been hugged before (even though we know she at least has a mother) but THEN later, when the Doctor tells her everyone is being killed in alphabetical order and Ricky is trying to fight off the dot that is literally trying to murder her, she RATS HIM OUT. His real last name starts with C, he should be dead already. 
Confusingly innocent and absolutely cut throat at the same time? I guess if you live your entire life exclusively online you don’t go through things that would actually cultivate compassion? Which honestly, is not an unfounded idea. That should make y’all feel queasy. 
And to make it all exponentially worse, they flat out tell the Doctor they can’t accept his help because he’s not “one of us”. Just straight up, really gross, really overt racism. 
15, honey, I get it, but please  don’t beg racists to let them save you. You’re too good for this world, babes. That gut wrenching shout though? Absolute perfection. And the tears. You marvelous thing. 
TL;DR Humanity is disgusting and technology will continue to feed our uglier tendencies. I felt that one deep in my damn bones.
Rogue
Okay hear me out. This episode is EVERYTHING. 
Y’all know I have a thing for boys in love. And I also have a thing for the Doctor flirting with basically anyone. I don’t particularly have a thing for the regency era necessarily, but I AM about incredible costumes and ridiculous plots. 
I was honest to god squealing this entire episode.
Wherein, 15 and Ruby show up to a ball in 1813 so they can pretend they’re in Bridgerton, meet a handsome young bounty hunting rake, talk a LOT about cosplaying, and deal with bird???! aliens???
There are a million details I loved in this one. The orchestra playing an instrumental version of “Bad Guy” and then later “Pokerface”. The absolutely incredible suit they put on 15. 
Not to mention: JONATHAN GROFF!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Loved him in Mindhunter, loved him in Glee (before it got absolutely ridiculous and when I didn’t know any better) but holy shiiiiiit I would watch him as Rogue every. damn. day. 
River Song will always and forever be my number one love for the Doctor, but I was absolutely immediately charmed by Rogue. I’m not sure why, and it doesn’t really matter. 
How absolutely adorable was the psychic paper displaying “you’re hot”? Or the bit where the Doctor figures out Rogue’s ship is wired for sound and the system blares “Can’t Get Your Outta My Head” and he lip syncs along while Rogue dies of embarrassment? 
The entire episode was just two dorks flirting and my heart was so happy. I don’t know why, but when 15 started singing “Pure Imagination” while showing Rogue around the Tardis, I thought I was going to die. 
I love that he can be so carefree and fun and adorable, but also extremely emotional and unafraid to show it. We’ve seen so many different facets of 15 already, and his obvious and silly flirty self is definitely my favorite part so far. 
Also, the fact that the Chuldur (again, bird aliens I guess? Sure) were basically just a race that went around cosplaying other people was so camp. I’ve seen a lot of posts about how the newest theory is that 15 and Ruby are somehow in some weird sort of tv show universe this season, and this episode definitely fuels that a little bit. 
And maybe y’all are onto something with that, but I honestly don’t care to figure out what’s going on, I just want to be along for the ride.
Of course though, we can’t have an episode that’s all fun and games. The Doctor went all in on shooting his shot with Rogue and it distracted him and it put Ruby in trouble, because of course. Maybe we should stop promising random mothers that their kids are gonna be safe? Doctor, baby, you know that they aren’t always going to be safe. 
But if you weren’t charmed by Rogue before that point, you had to jump on his bandwagon when he pushes Ruby out of the transport trap and just says “Find me” before he’s blasted away with the stupid birds to some far off dimension. 
BALLER MOVE, baby boy. Baller ass move. Because ya know what? 15 is not going to be able to resist that. And you know how I know? Because that boy put your ring on his finger and I will ship the fuck out of you two forever and ever because of that. 
The doctor has definitely been known to  kiss people he’s only just met, but this time might be in the top 3. I thought Madame de Pompadour was good? Nah girl, ya bumped down. This kiss was better. Just me sat on the couch with heart eyes for days.
So yeah, I think I’ve decided I like letting a few stack up so I can watch them in a row. Watching them boomerang between crazy scenarios and thinking about all of that at the same time is more fun. 
I’m loving this season. It’s ridiculous, it’s different, it’s a bunch of things I didn’t even realize I wanted. Gimme more pleaaaaase.
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A way out
Part 1 (Disgraced apple pie) Part 4 (A game of darts)
TW: mentions of kidnapping, panic attack
Hero taps their foot impatiently on the floor. They push the last crumb of their strawberry pie in their mouth and take a deep breath. It's their second piece, but who's counting? They could get a third. And maybe get a muffin for Sidekick. Hero knew they liked those. Their hand went to their pocket to feel the USB containing all the heroes' information. To their relief it was still there. They couldn’t imagine losing it, the Agency would burn them at a stake. The thought of giving the villains all that information made their stomach knot together. They could feel their heart beat in their chest. What the hell were they thinking? What if this is a trap and they just take the USB and Sidekick with them?
Hero doesn't have enough time to let their mind spiral as Villain and the Hero's Sidekick walk in. They stop at Hero's booth and look at them. There's the face Hero knew from all those late night pie dates. They weren’t really dates but given it was the only kind of social interaction Hero got in a long time outside of work, they liked to think of them that way. Villain let's Sidekick slide into the seat first and then sits next to them. “You got it?” Villain asks, only it doesn't sound like Villain. That's not the voice they spent hours with dissecting pies. “Yes,” Hero answers shakily. This still doesn't sit right with them. “Hand it over, and they're all yours,” Villain says, glancing over to Sidekick who is shivering in the corner. “Here.” Hero pulls the USB out of their pocket and places it on the table. Without saying a word Villain grabs it and stands up to leave.
“Hold on, Villain, wait!” Hero starts to say but Villain is already out the door. They wanted to run after them. Ask them why they were being so blunt. Ask them why the pie dates stopped. Ask them about what happened in the warehouse.
But they don’t. They don’t run after them and they don’t ask those questions. Instead, they look at the Sidekick who is staring at them expectantly. “Are you alright?” Hero asks them, not really sure what to do. Of course they’re not, they just spend the last three weeks in Supervillian’s claws. “It's okay,” Sidekick answers, still a bit shaky. “Can I go home now?”
“Yeah, of course,” Hero answers quickly, “The car is only a few minutes away.” They can’t even start to imagine what the poor kid went through. They make a mental note to make an appointment for them with the Agency’s therapist. Not that they are good at their job. Hero truly believes that the therapist is just the first person the Agency saw on the street and dragged them in. But hey, it’s better than nothing.
Hero escorts the Sidekick outside to the car. The moment they step out the diner’s door they can feel the cold winter air hit their face. Summer can’t come quick enough. While the Sidekick walks Hero can’t help but look at them. They don’t notice any limping but they do see a plethora of small cuts on their neck, face and hands. They have lost a little bit of weight, but not an alarming amount. “They feeded you?” Hero decides to ask. Sidekick nods slowly. “Villain came in a few times with a plate.”
“Villain? The one that dropped you off?”
“Yes, that one. I never really saw the others. Only Other Villain in the warehouse.” Sidekick answers, eyes fixed on the pavement. “Did Villain hurt you?” It’s hard to imagine that the same person who listened so carefully to Hero’s every word would hurt a kid like this. Villain would nod to their every word. Truly listen to them, give them what felt like a heartfelt response, hold their hand if what they were saying was becoming too much. They couldn't have hurt this teen, practically a child… Could they?
“They did.”
Something snapped. Hero felt something rise up in them. Their blood was starting to boil and they clenched their hands. Why? How?! How could this be the same person? Was it all an act? Of course it was. Villain never cared for them or their troubles. They just wanted information about the heroes and the Agency. They didn’t give one flying fuck about them.
They were so lost in their sudden rage that they almost missed Sidekick’s next sentence. “I don’t think they wanted to, though. They only did it when Supervillain asked them to.”
Oh.
The puzzle pieces started to fall in place and all the anger faded. Then they remembered the things they chose to forget in their frustration. The empty look in those eyes when Villain returned to the diner that first night. The sadness in the warehouse while Other Villain was so ecstatic. The very blunt and short conversation in the diner just now. They had to talk to Villain.
“Hey Sidekick, you go to the car already. I have to do something first.” Hero says looking for alleys where Villain might have disappeared into. “Oh, okay. You're coming back right?” Sidekick picks nervously at their sweater that was o so nicely provided by the villains.
“Yeah, I will,” Hero answers but they’re not really listening anymore. They have to find Villain.
~
Hero finds Villain in one of the dark alleys walking away towards god knows where. They stop running and have to lean against the wall from exhaustion. Damn, Villain was a fast walker. “Villain! Wait!” Hero yells out to the figure walking away once they get a bit of breath back. Villain turns around, their expression unreadable because of the darkness surrounding the dark alley. “What are you doing? Go home!” Villain yells back, turning around again. “Villain, hold on, please” Hero rushes over to Villain and grabs their arm to turn them around. “Why are you doing this? Why did you kidnap Sidekick?”
Villain huffs a laugh, “Are you seriously asking me that? I’m a Villain, honey. That’s kind of my schtick.” They tilt their head. “You didn’t truly think I would stop now that we’re friends, right?”
“No, obviously not. But my question is why? What are your goals?” If Hero’s suspicions were right, they’re going to have to be very careful. “Do you want my big, evil, monologue?” Villain smiles, “Well then, I'm sorry, but I'm not that type of villain.”
Hero decides to push Villain a bit further. “Why do you work for Supervillain?” Villain’s smile drops. Okay, maybe too big of a push. Well, they can’t back pedal now. “I know you don’t agree with them. Are they holding your family hostage? Blackmailing you?” Villain immediately pulls themselves out of the Hero’s grip. “No, they are not, and I highly suggest that you shut up about it.” Villain starts to walk away again but is stopped by Hero.
“Villain, I can help you. We can get your family back or whatever it is. Villain, please, let me help,” Hero begged Villain. They understand that accepting help is hard and scary, especially when they're going against Supervillain. But Hero has to try. They're a hero after all, right? They should help those in need.
“It's not my family, I don't have one. Now, go home,” Villain says with venom in their voice. Hero isn't giving up so easily. They have to help. They can't watch on the sidelines while Villain suffers. They just can't.
“Whatever it is, I can help,” Hero says with a soft voice, trying to calm down Villain. If they calmed down they might be able to think straight. Hero can help them then. It doesn't work.
“You can't!” Villain yells out. “You can't help. There's nothing you or I can do about it.”
“Villain, that's not true. There's always something we can do.” Hero keeps their voice calm. As much as they want to yell, get their message through in that stubborn head, they don't. It has no use to start yelling, that would freak out Villain even more. “There is nothing, absolutely nothing we can do. Believe me, I've tried,” Villain hisses.
“I'm here now, we can do it together,” Hero says, now holding Villain's hand and rubbing circles with their thumb. “You don't understand.” Villain shakes their head. “You don't understand what they'll do to me.”
“Come with me, then they can't hurt you anymore. You'll be safe with me.” The possibility that Supervillain was hurting Villain themselves hadn't crossed Hero's mind. They never really saw any injuries on Villain, but they did always wear long sleeves so they could have hidden them. It would make sense that Villain was scared because they didn't want to get hurt.
“You don't get it.” There are tears forming in Villain's eyes. “There's nothing I can do.”
“There is always a way to get out. Come with me, they can't get to you that way.” Hero is now practically hugging Villain's arm. It breaks Hero's heart to see Villain's tears stream down their face, creating wet streaks where they passed. They're going to make Supervillain pay for this. Villain starts to breath faster, their chest heaving heavily. Their eyes flicker around in panic. “No, there's nowhere I can go, they're everywhere. They follow me every second. There's nowhere where they can't get to me,” Villain blurted out, panicked. Hero guides them to the wall next to them for them to lean against. “Villain, listen to me. It's going to be okay. Take a deep breath in…” Villain and Hero take a deep breath in. “...and out…” they both, although one shakey, blow out. "Good. Let's do that again,” Hero says to Villain, who is still breathing heavily. Only this time it doesn't work. Villain keeps panicking.
Villain had to leave. Now. They had said too much and Supervillain knew. They always knew. They are in so. Much. Trouble. Staying longer here is going to end in an even bigger disaster. Villain feels Hero's hand on their shoulder to try and ground them but Villain can't hear them. They have to go back. Now. It keeps ringing in their head. Now. Get away, now. It's all becoming too much. They have to get away.
Before they know it, they've pushed Hero away. They hide themselves in a shadow and start running. Supervillain isn't even going to give them the pleasure of dying after this. They have to suffer for what they have done
Hi! Wow, this is a long one, I hope you guys don't mind. The poll isn't over yet, but it seems like most of you want some more parts of this series, so that's what I'll be doing! I'm having my first exam tomorrow, so I'm going to post a lot less for the coming two weeks.
(My asks are open if you want to ask for something for me to write or just about life, I don't really mind either.)
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