#yes it started from epic the musical

[itsajollyjester]

Fun fact: I’ve been having a minor to severe Odyssey hyper fixation for over a year now

[happy74827]

One Call Away

[Wade Wilson x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: During one of his "jobs," Deadpool gets a call from his favorite gal [GIF Creds: jdsheart]

WC: 1970

Category: Fluff, Major Comedy {TW: Deadpool’s Humor/Nonfiltered Personality}

This man is so hard to write. I’m always stressing the noggin when it comes to planning and plotting 😔

『••✎••』

"And away we go..."

One neck crack and a couple of hip twists later, he was off like Aladdin and his fucktoy carpet, scaling the building similarly to a chameleon on LSD.

The only thing that was missing was some epic music.

He'd been chasing this baddie around the city for almost two days now. Some big-shot mob boss with ties to Hydra, or the Mafia, or the Yakuza, or some other three-letter-acronym organization. It was hard to keep track of them all at this point. They were all the same, except for the name.

They all had their own agenda.

Kill him, keep him prisoner, pay him off...

Wade never cared enough to listen because it was always the same. He just got hired to do the dirty work, and the pay was good.

The killing was better.

This one, however, was particularly good at eluding him. He'd been trying to get his hands on this man for a few days now. It wasn't as though he was trying to be stealthy or anything, either. He'd walked right up to his front door, knocked, and was greeted with a spray of machine gun bullets.

So, the usual.

But then the guy ran and didn't stop. It was like the fucking Roadrunner met Sonic the Hedgehog, and they decided to fuck around and find out.

Wade was getting real sick and tired of being a Roadrunner, too. He had a reputation to uphold. He wasn't known as the Merc with the Mouth for nothing. He was supposed to be the one doing the running and the killing.

Not the other way around.

Finally, finally, he managed to reach the roof where the guy was currently taking cover behind a small brick shack. The sun was rising, but it was still dark, and there were a couple of floodlights shining on the rooftop. It made him think of the night he'd had that heart-to-heart with Blind Al, even though all she really wanted was for him to bring her some of that special brownie mix.

What a night that had been.

But anyway, this monologue is starting to get too long, and we should probably move things along, eh?

Right.

So, the baddie.

His name was something long and non-English.

Salvatore, or Santino, or Salvation... Whatever the fuck it was, it didn't really matter. What mattered was that it was time to make him dead.

He stepped around the corner and was met with a spray of bullets, all of which lodged themselves into his Kevlar vest.

"Oh, come on!" he yelled over the sound of the gunfire. "This is real leather, you know. I'm tired of all the offscreen sewing and shit."

When the spray finally ended, he took a moment to catch his breath.

"…ow," he whispered to himself.

"You shouldn't have followed me here," the man said.

"Yeah, whatever," Deadpool replied. "Look, I'll make this easy for you. You drop down and give me fifty, and I'll let you keep that hideous mustache you're sporting."

The man's eyes widened in surprise.

"It's not that bad, is it?"

"Yes, yes it is," Deadpool assured him. "You got a squirrel living in it or something?"

"It's just a little bit of gray, you dick," the man argued. "What about you? What's with the mask? Are you hiding a mustache under there, too, or something? Maybe some acne scars?"

Deadpool shook his head and stepped forward, his guns drawn.

"Don't come any closer!"

"You know, this would be much more intimidating if you didn't look like a cartoon mouse."

"Stop it with the mustache!"

"Alright, alright," Deadpool said. "Enough with the mustache. But what is it about your hairline? I can't put my finger on it."

The man sighed in exasperation and pulled out his pistol, aiming it right at Deadpool's face.

"Hey now, don't point that at me," Deadpool scolded him. "That's not a very nice thing to do."

He ignored him and pulled the trigger, a loud boom ringing out as the bullet fired. It whizzed by him but missed its mark.

"You really are a dick," He grumbled before aiming his gun right between the man's eyes. And he was going to shoot, honest.

He really was.

But then his phone rang, and he was well-reminded of the current song playing through his head.

I'm a buff baby that can dance like a man. I can shake-ah my fanny, I can shake-ah my can!

Needless to say, he was distracted.

He lowered his gun and looked down at his pocket, where his phone was still ringing and still vibrating against his leg.

"Shit, hold that thought," He said to the guy, and he holstered his gun.

"Wh-what the hell are you doing?!"

Deadpool put his finger up to shush him before pulling his phone out of his pocket to answer it.

If you're an evil witch, I’ll punch you for fu—

"Heyyyy," he said in a sing-songy voice, "you've reached the phone sex hotline. For kinks and fetishes, press one. For booty calls, press two. For your favorite mercenary, press three."

"Ey, pendejo—" His opponent started, but he cut him off by snapping and raising his finger.

"Cut it, Tuco Salamanca. Breaking Bad called and wants its meth-cooking mustache back."

"Wha-I-you-"

"Anyways, this is your favorite merc speaking. Who do I have the pleasure of speaking with?"

"Is this a bad time?"

Wade's eyes widened in shock, and his jaw dropped open when he heard her voice on the other end of the line.

"Baby girl! Is that you? Oh, how I've missed your voice. It's like hearing an angel, or an angelic chorus, or a whole bunch of angels, but you're the most important one. Like, the lead singer or something."

"I literally saw you last night." Your voice was always drenched with the most amazing kind of sarcasm, and he'd missed it.

"And?"

"It's only been a few hours."

"And?"

"That's a short amount of time."

"And?"

You sighed, but he knew you weren't really annoyed.

"Anyways, you sounded busy," you continued, "so I'll just let you go."

"What?! No! Don't hang up!" He shouted into the receiver. "I've only fiddled with my pistols! Nothing interesting is happening right now!"

"Your pistols, huh?" You asked a hint of mischief in your voice.

"Well, yeah. They're the most important part of the mission, you know."

In the corner of his eye, he could see his target making his way towards the edge of the building. Quickly and efficiently, without dropping his attention from his conversation with you, he lifted his gun and fired a shot at the man's knee.

"Ah, fuck!" the man screamed in pain. "My knee!"

"Hey! Language!" Deadpool scolded him. "The lady of the house is listening!"

"Lady of the- what the fuck?!"

"I said language, you mustachioed rat!"

"Mustachioed rat?" You asked.

"Sorry, babe," he replied. "You know how excited I get when Downtown Abbey is on."

“There’s gunshots in Downtown Abbey?"

"Gunshots? Oh, no, no. That was… uh, a car alarm. Yeah, the neighbor's car alarm was going off."

"Uh-huh," you said, not sounding very convinced. And, of course, that was right around the time the guy's gun went off again, this time hitting him square in the shoulder. It made the phone fall out of his hand and clatter onto the ground, but the call was still connected.

"Dammit!" He yelled, looking at the fresh blood dripping down his arm. "That's gonna take forever to heal!"

"Who are you talking to?" The man demanded, his gun still aimed at Deadpool's face. "You're working with someone?"

"Hey, now, I don't remember giving you permission to talk," Deadpool told him, holding his bloody arm up to his face. "Look, I've gotta call you back, babe. I know it's been so heartbreakingly long—"

"Again, only a few hours," you said.

"—but duty calls. Love you, bye."

"Love you, bye."

With that, the line disconnected.

"Ugh," he groaned, his heart aching for the loss of your sweet voice. "I miss her already."

"Ey," his opponent growled, drawing his attention. He started speaking in rapid-fire Spanish, which Deadpool didn't really understand, but he didn't have to. The guy was just ranting and raving.

"Alright, alright, chill," Deadpool said. "Just calm down. It’ll all be over soon, little buddy."

"I am not little! I am a giant!" The guy protested, and Wade could practically see the steam coming out of his ears. "And I will not chill!"

"Well, can't argue with that, I guess," Deadpool said with a shrug, and he took aim. But before he could pull the trigger, the guy was running again.

"Hey, what did I tell you about running?!" He yelled, but his voice fell on deaf ears as the guy reached the ledge.

"I am a giant!"

"No, you're a giant asshat!"

"I will not be bested by some masked buffoon!"

"Buff? Me? Why, I never!"

"You're the biggest asshole I've ever met!"

"You know what? I am a big ass! A big, round, bubbly ass." He paused for a second. "Hey, what's your favorite flavor?"

"Fuck you, you red-clad imbecile!"

"You know, I'd ask you out to dinner first, but we're kinda past that now."

"Argh!"

"Alright, enough stalling," Deadpool said. "It's time to end this."

"Yes," the guy said, turning his gun back on Deadpool. "It is."

Of course, Deadpool being the smart-ass he was, he'd already taken a step to the side. As the bullet whizzed past him, he reached for his gun.

"Now, where did I put that thing? Oh, there it is."

He aimed the gun and fired, and the man fell back onto the ground. The bullet hit him right in the middle of his forehead, his blood splattering all over the concrete.

"Ha ha! Fatality. Deadpool wins!" He said, his voice taking on the deep, grounded tone of the narrator from Mortal Kombat. "Flawless Victory."

He stood over the body for a few seconds, reveling in his victory, before he felt the presence of another.

The gun on his right side got ripped from its holster, and the barrel was aimed back into his face, as it always seems to be.

But, he already sensed it was coming, so his fingers wrapped around his other and aimed that right in the golden spot… and let’s just say, The Golden Girls was a little less golden and a lot more crimson.

"Wow, this has got to be a record," He said as he bent down to stare at the new one’s anguish. "Two dead ugly mustaches in the same day. You can call me Sweeney Todd because shit… I just shaved you the fuck up."

He didn’t give the poor bastard a chance to even whimper before he fired another two shots into the man's head. All in all, this had been the easiest payday he'd had in a while.

He picked up his cell phone and slipped it back into its pocket before bending down and scooping up the mustache man's pistol.

"Ooh, lookie here, a nice, shiny new pistol," he said to himself. "Just what I've always wanted. Well, I don't actually need it. It's not like I have any other holes in my body, but you know what they say. The more the merrier."

He stuffed the gun in his holster and turned around, heading back the way he'd come.

"Time to get back to the good stuff," he said. "I have a date with my favorite girl."

He hopped up onto the ledge and looked down, his eyes locking on the window to his apartment.

And when he arrived, bloody and battered, you could only smile while holding up little ole Mary Puppins in all her drooling glory.

God, how he missed his girls.

[paigebueckersmommy]

tipsy - p.b

requested by anon

paige bueckers x reader

warnings : 18+, possessiveness, drinking, fingering, semi public sex

you and paige had been messsing around for a couple months, but nothing serious. paige swore to you that you were the only girl she was hooking up with, but if that was true, why weren’t we anything more than friends with benefits?

a couple weeks ago after hooking up paige had mentioned a party to you, and asked if you were going and when you replied that you didn’t know about it, she asked you to go with her. she murmured a dirty joke with a giggle when you accepted then you playfully push her.

paige had picked you up for the party, calling you gorgeous and complimenting you the whole way there. this was what confused you, she treated you like her girlfriend.

you guys eventually wander off, nudging paige and telling her that you were going to find some friends.

half and hour later, you decide to try to find paige again, coming back down from going to the bathroom upstairs. you find her in the kitchen holding red solo cup. as you pouch her she holds eye contact with you and doesn’t look happy. “p are you okay?” you say, worried for paige. she looked mad. “did she make you cum? fingers or toung?” paige said, crocking her neck down to your height.

“paige what are you talking about? i was going to the bathroom upstairs. paige are you drunk?” you say with confusion.

paige sets down her solo cup grabbing her hand and walking fastly in front of you, leading you up the stairs and into the bathroom and closing the door behind you. she pushes you against the door l, resting her forearm on the door behind you. “paige are you sure your not drunk?” you say, trying to ignore the need between your legs you develop with paige looking at you this intensely.

paige unbottons your jean shorts, pulling them down to your mid thighs, and moves your panties to the side. paige pushes three of her lengthy fingers inside of you, without even asking you to suck on them which she loves doing. you gasp out due to the pressure on you, and paige curling her veiny hands inside of you.

“you like that you whore? am i the only one that makes you feel this good?” paige says, still keeping eye contact with you while pumping in and out of you.

“fuck yes paige your the only girl i want, holy shit i’m close” you say through moans of pleasure and screaming out paige’s name as your legs shake.

“oh yea? you’re close?” paige says, as she feels you start to clench around her fingers, when you finally release paige bends down onto her knees to lick up all your juices. she licks her fingers clean holding intense eye contact with you. paige washes her hands as you clean your self up. she pushes a passionate kiss to your lips as she walks out of the bathroom.

a couple of hours pass, as paige finds you and nudges you, signally that she’s ready to leave, you nod , agreeingly. paige opens the passanger seat door for you, you hop in and wait as paige jogs around to the drivers side.

paige gets in the car, starts the car then looks at you with a grin. “your so breautful, pretty girl.” paige says through her bright red cheeks.

“your even more beautiful p.” you say as you also start to smile. “baby will you be my girlfriend? tonight made me realize i want you. not just a casual thing. i want to be the only girl you think of, and make you cum.”

you smile, hearing those word was like music to your ears. “paige, you were already the only girl i think and epically the only girl that makes me cum.

[greenorangevioletgrass]

fever pitch (b.b) - prologue

soundtrack: mastermind - taylor swift pairing: footballer!bradley x popstar!reader synopsis: Bradley shoots his shot in public, but will he fumble when he meets you in person? warnings: language, drinking, meet cute notes: my first series in a while! this is shamelessly based on the epic Taylor Swift/Travis Kelce saga currently happening rn, and combine that with my innate love of football (the kicking kind, not the NFL kind) and... voila! I hope you enjoy this. Let me know what you think in the comments, reblogs, and asks. Happy reading! <3 ✨I do not have a taglist. Please follow @ficsbygreenorangevioletgrass and turn on the notification to get the latest update on my fics✨

Soccer Sensation Bradley Bradshaw Fails To Shoot His Shoot With Y/N At Her Concert?

Arsenal captain Bradley Bradshaw may be among his club’s top scorers this season, but even he misses a chance in romance like the rest of us.

The 29-year-old athlete spoke about his missed opportunity with the multi-platinum songstress Y/N while speaking to his former teammate Héctor Bellerín on the latter’s podcast, “More Than A Footballer”, earlier this week.

When asked about any fun stuff he did last weekend, Bradshaw replied,

“I went to the Y/N concert at Wembley [Stadium]... it was awesome. It was pouring rain, but it was amazing. I don’t remember Wembley ever being that electric aside from, like, cup finals. She was sensational.”

Bellerín nods in agreement, having heard great things about the famed singer-songwriter’s live concerts.

Unprompted, the American midfielder then continued,

“If you’ve heard about the tour, there’s this tradition of trading friendship bracelets. And I actually made one with my number on it, hoping I could give it to her after the show…”

The Cockney-raised Spaniard cackled in surprise and teased him, “But she didn’t wanna see you, bruv? [That is] legend!”

“No hard feelings!” Bradshaw raised his hands in defense over the Zoom call. “She needed to dry off and get warm. Gotta make sure she stays healthy, protect those vocal cords. But yeah, I was a bit bummed out about it.”

Bellerín laughed and jokingly addressed the camera, “Y/N, if you’re watching, give my boy a chance, will you?”

Mononymous pop sensation Y/N is hot off of her Kaleidoscope North American Tour, which wrapped in September. Her six-show run at Wembley Stadium this November officially kicks off the European leg of her sold-out tour. 

Will they be the next pop royalty and conquer the stadiums with their own crafts, or will this fizzle out as this week’s viral anecdote? The ball is in your court, Y/N.

Y/N’s representatives have not responded for comment.

***

Your Miu Miu heels click and clack against the ground. The pavement gleams after the rain and glistens under the streetlights. Everywhere you look, your eyes hurt. Down, and you worry about slipping into a puddle and falling on your ass. Forward, and a million camera flashes are ready to give you an aneurysm.

All in the name of reporting your night off of work, performing live in front of 90,000 people in a stadium.

In other words, all in a day’s work.

There’s a moment of reprieve, when the silvery white blitzes disappear into the dim tangerine lighting of the lobby. The flight down the stairs is so dark, you’re seeing green. It takes your eyes a moment to adjust, but as soon as they do, the thumping bass line of some dance music hits your ears. Clashing perfumes doused on the dancing, dressed-up bodies that you have to weave through.

You are seriously regretting your girl friends’ invite to a night out. You could’ve just had them over to your hotel, open a bunch of red wine, and you would’ve still had a blast. But no. You had to say yes to going to the Cuckoo Club with Lacey, Amara, and Jo.

And this evening is making you feel quite cuckoo.

There’s champagne at your booth and you’re much too eager to take a glass and start a toast. “Cheers, bitches!” you yell over the music, clinking your glass against theirs before downing the whole thing in one go.

It’s nowhere near enough.

There’s not enough buzz to dull the assault to your senses—not even after the three glasses of wine at dinner earlier. Everything is still too loud, too bright, too crowded, too… much.

“Hey!” you nudge Amara, who is sitting right next to you. “Let’s do shots!”

She turns to you, eyes widening at the slightest. “I thought you wanted to take it easy tonight!” 

“Changed my mind,” you shrug, as you get up to the bar.

While you make your way through the crowd on the dance floor, Bradley Bradshaw looks up from his booth and does a double-take at the girl who just walked by. Even in a high-end club full of the well-dressed and well-heeled, people still get starstruck. And why wouldn’t they? You’re about as famous as an iPhone. 

His eyes widen and immediately whips out his phone to shoot a text to his oldest and most trusted friend Natasha Trace.

‘Dude, I’m in the club and Y/N just walked in. What do I do??’

Natasha thankfully texts back almost immediately. Then again, maybe being a Communications Director for a major company requires her to be a good texter. ‘Wdym what do you do? Just go talk to her.’

‘You were supposed to introduce us!’ Bradley replies, eyes darting between his phone and you at the bar, conflicted.

Natasha is a mutual friend of yours, too, and when the Bracelet-gate clip went viral, she laughed in his face for a full 5 minutes before deciding to set the two of you up. But the schedule never really aligned, so he hasn’t got a chance to see you. Not even after he went to your concert with a friendship bracelet and a dream.

And now, seeing you here in the same room at the same time as him…

‘What do you want me to do, get down there and do it for you?’

‘...Can you?’

He senses the judgment even as the three dots appear on his screen. 

‘Stop being a pussy, Bradshaw. Let me Netflix and chill with my gf in peace.’

Bradley scoffs, half-annoyed and half-fond. ‘Asshole. Have fun.’

The dance floor clears up, just enough to see that you’re right there. Leaning against the bar in your dress like a dirty daydream, talking to the bartender, and he couldn’t just let you go without a word. He thought about it, and he simply couldn’t.

“Oi, where are you off to?” His teammate Martin hollers, while the others watch him make his way to the bar in determined strides.

He squeezes past patrons across this jungle of a club, hoping to God that somebody hasn’t beaten him to talk to you yet, or you haven’t ducked out completely. Oh fuck. You’re still there, though. Good. You’re still at the bar, still glimmering under the mirrorball. Just a tap on the shoulder away. You can do it, Bradshaw…

“Excuse me, I—”

You feel the hand on your shoulder just as you turn and stand up, and in a flurry of miscoordination, looks up just as the other person moves in.

In a stroke of dumb luck, Bradley feels the top of your head slamming up against his nose and he groans in pain. “Ohh!”

“Shit! Oh my God…” you gasp, reaching out to the man in front of you. He’s tall, very tall, and you can’t quite see his face with his massive hand clutching his nose. “I’m so sorry…”

“No, it’s okay. My bad…” It really doesn’t seem like it, so he lets go of his nose and smiles sheepishly. Gosh, he must’ve looked stupid right now.

But you see it differently. What you see is a dashing man in a sleek tieless navy suit and a well-groomed mustache, straight out of a Cinemascope flick, ever so handsome despite his reddened nose from the way you just accidentally headbutted him. “No, that was totally mine. Are you okay?”

Your eyes are crystal clear even in the dim light, the concern is palpable in your gaze—and rightly so. It’s just that he’d take the headbutt any day, if it means he can look at your beautiful face. “I’m… I’m swell. Y/N, right?”

There’s a shift in your gaze. First, alert—you’re assessing how much of a potential threat this person is, whether they’re gonna be weird about you— and then it relaxes. Not a threat. Then a slightest hint of mischief, like she wants to know what kind of dynamics they would have. “Have we met?”

And boy, can he.

“We haven’t, actually. But I went to your show at Wembley earlier this week. You were amazing.” He offers a handshake. “Bradley Bradshaw.”

You didn’t quite catch his name over the blaring music, although you shake his hand anyway. “Sorry?” 

He leans into your ear, “I’m Bradley Bradshaw.”

You don’t know which one makes your heart skip, the sudden close proximity, the warmth of his timbre, or the whiff of his perfume.

“Right. Nice to meet you, Bradley Bradshaw.” You accept his handshake, hoping he doesn’t see how flustered you are in the strobing purple light.

“Likewise.” He nods with a smile. “And may I just say… you look stunning.”

“What, this old thing?” You brush down the art nouveau-inspired Balmain dress on your body. You’re just being modest, of course; you know you’re dressed to the nines. You have never been much into facial hair, but somehow that mustache suits him very well. “You don’t look so bad yourself. You remind me of a… young Robert Mitchum. Or Paul Newman— or one of those Golden Age leading men.”

His face lights up. It’s hardly the first time he received that kind of compliment, but when it came from you, it feels… different. It feels special. It makes him just a little bolder. “Yeah? Maybe after a few drinks, I’ll be quoting lines from Butch Cassidy. Or would you prefer Cat On A Hot Tin Roof?”

This piques your interest. A man of culture, it seems. But of course, you can’t be too sure. “I’m more of a Paris Blues kinda gal, I’m afraid.”

Gosh, you don’t swoon so easily and he likes you so much for that. “Makes sense.”

“How so?”

“It’s a good underrated musical movie, for the musically gifted… And Sidney Poitier was just fantastic in that.”

“Huh.” You raise your eyebrows. You honestly thought he was just spouting the famous titles. But the fact that he has likely seen this hidden gem might just mean he’s really into it. “Aren’t you full of surprises.”

He leans in to speak in your ear yet again. “If you stick with me for a bit, I might show you another surprise or two.”

The music drowns out your racing heart just barely, and the bartender places a whole set of tequila shots on the bar top, and it snaps you out of your reverie for a moment. 

“Wanna get some air?”

He seems surprised, but of course he wasn’t gonna throw away this shot. “Sure. Why not?”

You instruct the bartender to send the shots to your booth, not even spending ten seconds to ponder staying in this deafening hell hole. Not when this man looks like peace. Perhaps an undercurrent of mystery underneath, but his whole demeanor is as calm and comforting as those old-school movies you put on to fall asleep. At the same time, something about this person pulls you in, it’s almost magnetic, and you can’t help wanting to see this through.

[gabrielsbubblegumbitch]

any Husk headcanons?

Yes actually!

Let's start with the fact that I don't think he has ever truly been at an Overlord level of evil. Arrogant, power-hungry, and mischievous? Absolutely. But he wasn't in the same league of villainy as Alastor or Valentino. He got to the top by being lucky and playing his cards right, yet lacking the ruthlessness required to stay there.

At the height of his game, he was living it up, throwing these epic parties at his casino that everyone who was anyone in Hell made sure to attend. Unlike other Overlords, he wasn't all about plotting and taking over Hell – he was the life of the party, had killer taste in music, and always brought in top-notch performers. It was a joy to be around him, and everyone loved him. Or it looked like that.

He fell in love with one singer. When he was still "young", reckless and power-drunk, she seemed to be a perfect match for him. So beautiful everyone envied him, so talented her voice could enchant the whole ballroom. She commanded the crowd effortlessly like a goddess; she was the most charming arm candy, and she was so smart and cunning she could easily keep up in conversations with people of higher status. Husk worshipped the ground she walked on, and she was always by his side, his Lucky Charm. But then, he hit rock bottom, losing his money, his casino, his everything. And when he needed support the most, all those fair-weather friends, including Lucky, vanished because he wasn't useful to them anymore. That broke him – realizing that everything he thought he had in Hell was just an illusion. No one really cared about Husk; they were there just for the Overlord of Gambling. Ironically, Alastor turned out to be the only honest one because he never pretended it was anything but a game for him.

That's why Husk initially despised Angel's "fakeness" so much—he had encountered too many deceitful people in his life, and one of them had ruined him forever. He's also deeply ashamed of his past because he loathes the Overlords and everything they stand for, yet he's convinced that deep down, he's no better than them. He doesn't think he deserves to be saved or even loved by Angel because, in his mind, he's not much better than Valentino. Especially after realizing how different Angel is from Lucky, he feels he deserves him even less. Yes, he has come to terms with being a loser baby because he lost everything to his gambling addiction, but he has never fully forgiven himself for being part of the cruel system that exploits common sinners so the Overlords can indulge in endless parties and pointless fights.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Inkjump Linkdump

For the rest of May, my bestselling solarpunk utopian novel THE LOST CAUSE (2023) is available as a $2.99, DRM-free ebook!

It's the start of a long weekend and I've found myself with a backlog of links, so it's time for another linkdump – the eighteenth in the (occasional) series. Here's the previous installments:

https://pluralistic.net/tag/linkdump/

Kicking off this week's backlog is a piece of epic lawyer-snark, which is something I always love, but what makes this snark total catnip for me is that it's snark about copyfraud: false copyright claims made to censor online speech. Yes please and a second portion, thank you very much!

This starts with the Cola Corporation, a radical LA-based design store that makes lefty t-shirts, stickers and the like. Cola made a t-shirt that remixed the LA Lakers logo to read "Fuck the LAPD." In response, the LAPD's private foundation sent a nonsense copyright takedown letter. Cola's lawyer, Mike Dunford, sent them a chef's-kiss-perfect reply, just two words long: "LOL, no":

https://www.techdirt.com/2024/04/19/apparel-company-gives-perfect-response-to-lapds-nonsense-ip-threat-letter-over-fuck-the-lapd-shirt/

But that's not the lawyer snark I'm writing about today. Dunford also sent a letter to IMG Worldwide, whose lawyers sent the initial threat, demanding an explanation for this outrageous threat, which was – as the physicists say – "not even wrong":

https://www.loweringthebar.net/2024/05/lol-no-explained.html

Every part of the legal threat is dissected here, with lavish, caustic footnotes, mercilessly picking apart the legal defects, including legally actionable copyfraud under DMCA 512(f), which provides for penalties for wrongful copyright threats. To my delight, Dunford cited Lenz here, which is the infamous "Dancing Baby" case that EFF successfully litigated on behalf of Stephanie Lenz, whose video of her adorable (then-)toddler dancing to a few seconds of Prince's "Let's Go Crazy" was censored by Universal Music Group:

https://www.eff.org/cases/lenz-v-universal

Dunford's towering rage is leavened with incredulous demands for explanations: how on Earth could a lawyer knowingly send such a defective, illegal threat? Why shouldn't Dunford seek recovery of his costs from IMG and its client, the LA Police Foundation, for such lawless bullying? It is a sparkling – incandescent, even! – piece of lawyerly writing. If only all legal correspondence was this entertaining! Every 1L should study this.

Meanwhile, Cola has sold out of everything, thanks to that viral "LOL, no." initial response letter. They're taking orders for their next resupply, shipping on June 1. Gotta love that Streisand Effect!

https://www.thecolacorporation.com/

I'm generally skeptical of political activism that takes the form of buying things or refusing to do so. "Voting with your wallet" is a pretty difficult trick to pull off. After all, the people with the thickest wallets get the most votes, and generally, the monopoly party wins. But as the Cola Company's example shows, there's times when shopping can be a political act.

But that's because it's a collective act. Lots of us went and bought stuff from Cola, to send a message to the LAPD about legal bullying. That kind of collective action is hard to pull off, especially when it comes to purchase-decisions. Often, this kind of thing descends into a kind of parody of political action, where you substitute shopping for ideology. This is where Matt Bors's Mr Gotcha comes in: "ooh, you want to make things better, but you bought a product from a tainted company, I guess you're not really sincere, gotcha!"

https://thenib.com/mister-gotcha/

There's a great example of this in Zephyr Teachout's brilliant 2020 book Break 'Em Up: if you miss the pro-union demonstration at the Amazon warehouse because you spent two hours driving around looking for an indie stationer to buy the cardboard to make your protest sign rather than buying it from Amazon, Amazon wins:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/07/29/break-em-up/#break-em-up

So yeah, I'm pretty skeptical of consumerism as a framework for political activism. It's very hard to pull off an effective boycott, especially of a monopolist. But if you can pull it off, well…

Canada is one of the most monopoly-friendly countries in the world. Hell, the Competition Act doesn't even have an "abuse of dominance" standard! That's like a criminal code that doesn't have a section prohibiting "murder." (The Trudeau government has promised to fix this.)

https://www.theglobeandmail.com/opinion/editorials/article-an-overhauled-competition-act-will-light-a-fire-in-the-stolid-world-of/

There's stiff competition for Most Guillotineable Canadian Billionaire. There's the entire Irving family, who basically own the province of New Bruinswick:

https://www.canadaland.com/podcast/dynasties-2-the-irvings/

There's Ted Rogers, the trumpy billionaire telecoms monopolist, whose serial acquire-and-loot approach to media has devastated Canadian TV and publishing:

https://www.canadaland.com/podcast/canadaland-725-the-rogers-family-compact/

But then there's Galen Fucking Weston, the nepobaby who inherited the family grocery business (including Loblaw), bought out all his competitors (including Shopper's Drug Mart), and then engaged in a criminal price-fixing conspiracy to rig the price of bread, the most Les-Miz-ass crime imaginable:

https://www.blogto.com/eat_drink/2023/06/what-should-happened-galen-weston-price-fixing/

Weston has made himself the face of the family business, appearing in TV ads in a cardigan to deliver dead-eyed avuncular paeans to his sprawling empire, even as he colludes with competitors to rig the price of his workers' wages:

https://www.bloomberg.com/news/articles/2020-06-12/a-supermarket-billionaire-steps-into-trouble-over-pandemic-wages

For Canadians, Weston is the face of greedflation, the man whose nickle-and-diming knows no shame. This is the man who decided that the discount on nearly-spoiled produce would be slashed from 50% to 30%, who racked up record profits even as his prices skyrocketed.

It's impossible to overstate how loathed Galen Weston is at this moment. There's a very good episode of the excellent new podcast Lately, hosted by Canadian competition expert Vass Bednar and Katrina Onstad that gives you a sense of the national outrage:

https://www.theglobeandmail.com/podcasts/lately/article-boycotting-the-loblawpoly/

All of this has led to a national boycott of Loblaw, kicked off by members of the r/loblawsisoutofcontrol, and it's working. Writing for Jacobin, Jeremy Appel gives us a snapshot of a nation in revolt:

https://jacobin.com/2024/05/loblaw-grocery-price-gouge-boycott/

Appel points out the boycott's problems – there's lots of places, particularly in the north, where Loblaw's is the only game in town, or where the sole competitor is the equally odious Walmart. But he also talks about the beneficial effect the boycott is having for independent grocers and co-ops who deal more fairly with their suppliers and their customers.

He also platforms the boycott's call for a national system of price controls on certain staples. This is something that neoliberal economists despise, and it's always fun to watch them lose their minds when the subject is raised. Meanwhile, economists like Isabella M Weber continue to publish careful research explaining how and why price controls can work, and represent our best weapon against "seller's inflation":

https://scholarworks.umass.edu/econ_workingpaper/343/

Antimonopoly sentiment is having a minute, obviously, and the news comes at you fast. This week, the DoJ filed a lawsuit to break up Ticketmaster/Live Nation, one of the country's most notorious monopolists, who have aroused the ire of every kind of fan, but especially the Swifties (don't fuck with Swifties). In announcing the suit, DoJ Antitrust Division boss Jonathan Kanter coined the term "Ticketmaster tax" to describe the junk fees that Ticketmaster uses to pick all our pockets.

In response, Ticketmaster has mobilized its own Loblaw-like shill army, who insist that all the anti-monopoly activism is misguided populism, and "anti-business." In his BIG newsletter, Matt Stoller tears these claims apart, and provides one of the clearest explanations of how Ticketmaster rips us all off that I've ever seen, leaning heavily on Ticketmaster's own statements to their investors and the business-press:

https://www.thebignewsletter.com/p/antitrust-enforcers-to-break-up-ticketmaster

Ticketmaster has a complicated "flywheel" that it uses to corner the market on live events, mixing low-margin businesses that are deliberately kept unprofitable (to prevent competitors from gaining a foothold) in order to capture the high-margin businesses that are its real prize. All this complexity can make your eyes glaze over, and that's to Ticketmaster's benefit, keeping normies from looking too closely at how this bizarre self-licking ice-cream cone really works.

But for industry insiders, those workings are all too clear. When Rebecca Giblin and I were working on our book Chokepoint Capitalism, we talked to insiders from every corner of the entertainment-industrial complex, and there was always at least one expert who'd go on record about the scams inside everything from news monopolies to streaming video to publishing and the record industry:

https://chokepointcapitalism.com/

The sole exception was Ticketmaster/Live Nation. When we talked to club owners, promoters and other victims of TM's scam, they universally refused to go on the record. They were palpably terrified of retaliation from Ticketmaster's enforcers. They acted like mafia informants seeking witness protection. Not without reason, mind you: back when the TM monopoly was just getting started, Pearl Jam – then one of the most powerful acts in American music – took a stand against them. Ticketmaster destroyed them. That was when TM was a mere hatchling, with a bare fraction of the terrifying power it wields today.

TM is a great example of the problem with boycotts. If a club or an act refuses to work with TM/LN, they're destroyed. If a fan refuses to buy tickets from TM or see a Live Nation show, they basically can't go to any shows. The TM monopoly isn't a problem of bad individual choices – it's a systemic problem that needs a systemic response.

That's what makes antitrust responses so timely. Federal enforcers have wide-ranging powers, and can seek remedies that consumerism can never attain – there's no way a boycott could result in a breakup of Ticketmaster/Live Nation, but a DoJ lawsuit can absolutely get there.

Every federal agency has wide-ranging antimonopoly powers at its disposal. These are laid out very well in Tim Wu's 2020 White House Executive Order on competition, which identifies 72 ways the agencies can act against monopoly without having to wait for Congress:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/08/13/post-bork-era/#manne-down

But of course, the majority of antimonopoly power is vested in the FTC, the agency created to police corporate power. Section 5 of the FTC Act grants the agency the power to act to prevent "unfair and deceptive methods of competition":

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/10/the-courage-to-govern/#whos-in-charge

This clause has lain largely dormant since the Reagan era, but FTC chair Lina Khan has revived it, using it to create muscular privacy rights for Americans, and to ban noncompete agreements that bind American workers to dead-end jobs:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/25/capri-v-tapestry/#aiming-at-dollars-not-men

The FTC's power to ban activity because it's "unfair and deceptive" is exciting, because it promises American internet users a way to solve their problems beyond copyright law. Copyright law is basically the only law that survived the digital transition, even as privacy, labor and consumer protection rights went into hibernation. The last time Congress gave us a federal consumer privacy law was 1988, and it's a law that bans video store clerks from telling the newspapers which VHS cassettes you rented:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Video_Privacy_Protection_Act

That's left internet users desperately trying to contort copyright to solve every problem they have – like someone trying to build a house using nothing but chainsaw. For example, I once found someone impersonating me on a dating site, luring strangers into private spaces. Alarmed, I contacted the dating site, who told me that their only fix for this was for me to file a copyright claim against the impersonator to make them remove the profile photo. Now, that photo was Creative Commons licensed, so any takedown notice would have been a "LOL, no." grade act of copyfraud:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/21/the-internets-original-sin/

The unsuitability of copyright for solving complex labor and privacy problems hasn't stopped people who experience these problems from trying to use copyright to solve them. They've got nothing else, after all.

That's why everyone who's worried about the absolutely legitimate and urgent concerns over AI and labor and privacy has latched onto copyright as the best tool for resolving these questions, despite copyright's total unsuitability for this purpose, and the strong likelihood that this will make these problems worse:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/13/spooky-action-at-a-close-up/#invisible-hand

Enter FTC Chair Lina Khan, who has just announced that her agency will be reviewing AI model training as an "unfair and deceptive method of competition":

https://thehill.com/policy/technology/4682461-ftc-chair-ai-models-could-violate-antitrust-laws/

If the agency can establish this fact, they will have sweeping powers to craft rules prohibiting the destructive and unfair uses of AI, without endangering beneficial activities like scraping, mathematical analysis, and the creation of automated systems that help with everything from adding archival metadata to exonerating wrongly convicted people rotting in prison:

https://hrdag.org/tech-notes/large-language-models-IPNO.html

I love this so much. Khan's announcement accomplishes the seemingly impossible: affirming that there are real problems and insisting that we employ tactics that can actually fix those problems, rather than just doing something because inaction is so frustrating.

That's something we could use a lot more of, especially in platform regulation. The other big tech news about Big Tech last week was the progress of a bill that would repeal Section 230 of the Communications Decency Act at the end of 2025, without any plans to replace it with something else.

Section 230 is the most maligned, least understood internet law, and that's saying something:

https://www.techdirt.com/2020/06/23/hello-youve-been-referred-here-because-youre-wrong-about-section-230-communications-decency-act/

Its critics wrongly accuse the law – which makes internet users liable for bad speech acts, not the platforms that carry that speech – of being a gift to Big Tech. That's totally wrong. Without Section 230, platforms could be named to lawsuits arising from their users' actions. We know how that would play out.

Back in 2018, Congress took a big chunk out of 230 when they passed SESTA/FOSTA, a law that makes platforms liable for any sex trafficking that is facilitated by their platforms. Now, this may sound like a narrowly targeted, beneficial law that aims at a deplorable, unconscionable crime. But here's how it played out: the platforms decided that it was too much trouble to distinguish sex trafficking from any sex-work, including consensual sex work and adjacent activities. The result? Consensual sex-work became infinitely more dangerous and precarious, while trafficking was largely unaffected:

https://www.gao.gov/assets/gao-21-385.pdf

Eliminating 230 would be incredibly reckless under any circumstances, but after the SESTA/FOSTA experience, it's unforgivable. The Big Tech platforms will greet this development by indiscriminately wiping out any kind of controversial speech from marginalized groups (think #MeToo or Black Lives Matter). Meanwhile, the rich and powerful will get a new tool – far more powerful than copyfraud – to make inconvenient speech disappear. The war-criminals, rapists, murderers and rip-off artists who currently make do with bogus copyright claims to "manage their reputations" will be able to use pretextual legal threats to make their critics just disappear:

https://www.qurium.org/forensics/dark-ops-undercovered-episode-i-eliminalia/

In a post-230 world, Cola Corporation's lawyers wouldn't get a chance to reply to the LAPD's bullying lawyers – those lawyers would send their letter to Cola's hosting provider, who would weigh the possibility of being named in a lawsuit against the small-dollar monthly payment they get from Cola, and poof, no more Cola. The legal bullies could do the same for Cola's email provider, their payment processor, their anti-DoS provider.

This week on EFF's Deeplinks blog, I published a piece making the connection between abolishing Section 230 and reinforcing Big Tech monopolies:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2024/05/wanna-make-big-tech-monopolies-even-worse-kill-section-230

The Big Tech platforms really do suck, and the solution to their systemic, persistent moderation failures won't come from making them liable for users' speech. The platforms have correctly assessed that they alone have the legal and moderation staff to do the kinds of mass-deletions of controversial speech that could survive a post-230 world. That's why tech billionaires like Mark Zuckerberg love the idea of getting rid of 230:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2021/03/facebooks-pitch-congress-section-230-me-not-thee

But for small tech providers – individuals, co-ops, nonprofits and startups that host fediverse servers, standalone group chats and BBSes – a post-230 world is a mass-extinction event. Ever had a friend demand that you take sides in an interpersonal dispute ("if you invite her to the party, I'm not coming!").

Imagine if your refusal to take sides in a dispute among your friends – and their friends, and their friends – could result in you being named to a suit that could cost hundreds of thousands of dollars to settle:

https://www.engine.is/news/primer/section230costs

It's one thing to hope for a more humane internet run by people who want to make hospitable forums for online communities to form. It's another to ask them to take on an uninsurable risk that could result in the loss of their home, their retirement account, and their life's savings.

A post-230 world is one in which Big Tech must delete first and ask questions later. Yes, Big Tech platforms have many sins to answer for, but making them jointly liable for their users' speech will flush out treasure-hunters seeking a quick settlement and a quick buck.

Again, this isn't speculative – it's inevitable. Consider FTX: yes, the disgraced cryptocurrency exchange was a festering hive of fraud – but there's no way that fraud added up to the 23.6 quintillion dollars in claims that have been laid against it:

https://cdn.arstechnica.net/wp-content/uploads/2024/03/US-v-SBF-Alameda-Research-Victim-Impact-Statement-3-20-2024.pdf

Without 230, Big Tech will shut down anything controversial – and small tech will disappear. It's the worst of all possible worlds, a gift to tech monopolists and the bullies and crooks who have turned our online communities into shooting galleries.

One of the reasons I love working for EFF is our ability to propose technologically informed, sound policy solutions to the very real problems that tech creates, such as our work on interoperability as a way to make it easier for users to escape Big Tech:

https://www.eff.org/interoperablefacebook

Every year, EFF recognizes the best, bravest and brightest contributors to a better internet and a better technological future, with our annual EFF Awards. Nominations just opened for this year's awards – if you know someone who fits the bill, here's the form:

https://www.eff.org/nominations-open-2024-eff-awards

It's nearly time for me to sign off on this weekend's linkdump. For one thing, I have to vacate my backyard hammock, because we've got contractors who need to access the side of the house to install our brand new heat-pump (one of two things I'm purchasing with my last lump-sum book advance – the other is corrective cataract surgery that will give me lifelong, perfect vision).

I've been lusting after a heat-pump for years, and they just keep getting better – though you might not know it, thanks to the fossil-fuel industry disinfo campaign that insists that these unbelievably cool gadgets don't work. This week in Wired, Matt Simon offers a comprehensive debunking of this nonsense, and on the way, explains the nearly magical technology that allows a heat pump to heat a midwestern home in the dead of winter:

https://www.wired.com/story/myth-heat-pumps-cold-weather-freezing-subzero/

As heat pumps become more common, their applications will continue to proliferate. On Bloomberg, Feargus O'Sullivan describes one such application: the Japanese yokushitsu kansouki – a sealed bathroom with its own heat-pump that can perfectly dry all your clothes while you're out at work:

https://www.bloomberg.com/news/articles/2024-05-22/laundry-lessons-from-japanese-bathroom-technology

This is amazing stuff – it uses less energy than a clothes-dryer, leaves your clothes wrinkle-free, prevents the rapid deterioration caused by high heat and mechanical agitation, and prevents the microfiber pollution that lowers our air-quality.

This is the most solarpunk thing I've read all week, and it makes me insanely jealous of Japanese people. The second-most solarpunk thing I've read this week came from The New Republic, where Aaron Regunberg and Donald Braman discuss the possibility of using civil asset forfeiture laws – lately expanded to farcical levels by the Supreme Court in Culley – to force the fossil fuel industry to pay for the energy transition:

https://newrepublic.com/article/181721/fossil-fuels-civil-forefeiture-pipeline-climate

They point out that the fossil fuel industry has committed a string of undisputed crimes, including fraud, and that the Supremes' new standard for asset forfeiture could comfortably accommodate state AGs and other enforcers who seek billions from Big Oil on this basis. Of course, Big Oil has more resources to fight civil asset forfeiture than the median disputant in these cases ("a low- or moderate-income person of color [with] a suspected connection to drugs"). But it's an exciting idea!

All right, the heat-pump guys really need me to vacate the hammock, so here's one last quickie for you: Barath Raghavan and Bruce Schneier's new paper, "Seeing Like a Data Structure":

https://www.belfercenter.org/publication/seeing-data-structure

This is a masterful riff on James C Scott's classic Seeing Like a State, and it describes how digitalization forces us into computable categories, and counts the real costs of doing so. It's a gnarly and thoughtful piece, and it's been on my mind continuously since Schneier sent it to me yesterday. Something suitably chewy for you to masticate over the long weekend!

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/25/anthology/#lol-no

[heyyourcool]

What sucks about entering a fandom midway to it finishing is that you'd have to wait a long time for the creator to finish the project after being left on a 'cliffhanger'. I don't even want to imagine joining the fandom from the beginning the project started.

(And yes. This is about epic: the musical.)

[italoniponic]

Bat-Hunter | Rook Hunt & Lilia Vanrouge

Synopsis: In which Rook and Lilia found themselves at the start of a legendary battle for the Prefect of Ramshackle's heart. The world of love triangles is awfully quiet after this exchange. Dedicated to @pandoa. You wish and you shall receive &lt;3

Lilia Vanrouge, Rook Hunt x gender neutral reader / small scenario / fluff but mostly crack / reference to a specific Phillipines dish / 1525 words / use of “you” pronouns / Masterlist

Bat-Hunter: The Magnificent Showdown!

Few people throughout history — between humans and faes — could say that they had the audacity to directly antagonize the Great General Vanrouge in any sort of battle. And getting out of this sort of risk alive was a bit of luck granted to very few people, almost to none.

“But a coward hunter is not worthy to receive the title, nor to wear a hat.”

That was the Hunt family motto that Rook was so proud to carry in his heart. Such was his respect for his family tradition that this phrase was embroidered on the inside of all his hats so as to never forget his origins.

Well, maybe I’m starting a little too fast and you’re still worrying — from the comfort of Ramshackle’s upstairs window — what the hell the two guys you liked were doing on the ground floor balcony, dressed like that.

Despite everything, you suddenly shrugged to yourself and headed to the kitchen where a more urgent task needed to be fulfilled. When everything was ready, hopefully you could invite the guys in. That is, if you found one or the other intact in the end.

Because that was the feeling that their exchange of glances passed.

Lilia was dressed in his Light Music club “uniform,” as punk rock as your father had been in the eighties when he was young and phones were wired. He held his guitar close to him, as if it were the weapon of his days in the Army of Thorns. He was “total rad” — as the youngsters would say.

His friendly smile only masked the irritation of finding Rook in that place, decked out from head to toe. Usually, his presence was easy to ignore and his curiosity could be quite amusing from time to time.

But he knew the real situation they were in: they were equals in rivalry for the heart of Ramshackle’s Prefect.

Knights in a duel for love!

Rook, in his own instance, wore a pair of belted trousers and a loose white blouse — located in the common vocabulary as a “pirate blouse” — with the strange addition of a large pink coat over his shoulders, sewn by hand and with some patterns of blue rhombuses. With his hat in hand, he looked like a book character.

His expression was equally gentle but it carried a certain pang of defiance, like a hunter who meets another while hunting.

“You look very beauté this afternoon, Monsieur Curiosité!,” Rook praised.

“How did you actually say that time? That my beauty is ‘mysterious’?,” Lilia chuckled, squinting his eyes.

“Oui, oui! But do not fret, Monsieur, today my attention is on someone else.”

“Another one? You can’t get enough of it, can you, Hunt?”

“Oh, for Heaven’s sake, yes. I’m tired. Tired because I’m wandering for days and nights thinking about the smile of that kind person and how I would like to cheer them up in these times of crisis!”

Crisis? Lilia didn’t quite understand. You seemed to be doing very well during all the times you met. Had he let any detail slip through the cracks?

“What kind of crisis? That is,” he bit his tongue, embarrassed that he had to ask for help from his literal rival. “If I may intrude.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. These are ear crisis! Dear Trickster has been hearing a lot of guitars being scratched lately,” the young huntsman replied, boldly.

Lilia barely broke his guitar cable — or the entire instrument at once in Rook’s head.

It was a mere provocation, no big deal. And Pomefiore’s vice, the way he was, probably appreciated each style of music in its own artistic way. But they were dealing with a battle of epic proportions and every blow counted.

Even if he were to call Lilia’s love-hard-heavy-metal demo “instrument-scratching”. But it was worth it and it showed in the way Rook’s eyes squinted in amusement.

Dealing with Diasomnia’s vice has always been an adventure in itself. That was the best part about being Lilia’s romantic rival.

Regardless of the ending, moments like this would always have a special place in Rook’s heart and he would remember it all with emotion when he went to tell your children — “the Hunt Jrs.” — the trajectory of your love.

“Why are you crying?,” suddenly Lilia inquired, confused.

“You will not be forgotten, Monsieur Curiosité! Forever and ever!,” Rook declared, wiping a tear with the sleeve of his coat. “Your memory will be carried forever in our family!”

At this the fae pulled the hunter by the collar of his shirt, staring directly into his green eyes. It was not necessary to float to come face to face with Rook, Lilia had enough dignity to impose himself the way he wanted.

And, let’s face it, making the boy — a “child” in his eyes — literally reach his level was more convenient too.

“Your particular persona has not yet turned gray to be Malleus’ breakfast because I dare, to the best of my mental faculties, find your audacity mildly amusing,” Lilia said with a grim smile cutting across his face.

“I thank you, monsieur. And I, if I may say so, find the bloody-pink in your eyes extremely beautiful,” Rook retorted, torn between fascination and a certain fear instinct that only made him feel more confident in his goals.

“Who do you think you are, hunter?”

“And who do you think I am, bat?”

That said, the two of them started laughing. Maniacally. They walked away but kept laughing, releasing all the anger and tension that could be felt in the form of simple fun between two colleagues.

Oh, they wanted to duel until death ripped them from each others hands.

Fortunately, you opened the door in time to prevent a bloodbath in your yard — after all, it would be difficult to clean it up.

“Hey, boys!,” you greeted, happy. “Wanna come in? I made pancit canton!”

Then you showed them a plate of fresh noodles, straight out of the pan, in a colorful combination of sliced pork, sausage and shrimp along with chopped carrots, cabbage, peas, onions and garlic. It smelled wonderfully good and matched your good mood. No wonder, it was your favorite food from the Philippines.

The sun was setting and it was close to dinner time. In fact, you were so excited about the process of cooking everything — from blanching vegetables to cutting meats — that the serving size tripled. Maybe being busy tidying the house didn’t help your distraction.

But with Lilia and Rook there — and Grim would be happy with extra food — you felt that little slip was worth doing it.

The smile that opened on your face descended on them like a ray of light in the midst of darkness, poetic as a fairy tale.

The animosity in the air was still palpable, however you were simply happy to have the company of your two crushes at the same time and there are times you need to take advantage of some situations.

“Prefect! I composed a song and I would like you to hear it,” Lilia stepped forward, putting the guitar in position and pulling a bombastic sound from the strings.

Your eyes widened and you couldn’t stop an admiring smile from appearing. Outside that your heart was racing just like the Light Music club speakers after a performance by Lilia. He was so cool!

“And I brought the best collection of poems on my bookshelf to recite, sweet Trickster!,” Rook didn’t lag behind and with one movement of his arm, the coat danced beautifully under his shoulders.

Another shot to the heart! As if that were not enough, the shades of the afternoon horizon harmonized perfectly with Rook’s clothes and made him an otherworldly vision, having escaped from a bedside book just to meet with you.

“You two are going to drive me crazy like this…,” you grumbled to yourself. But you did your best to stay intact.

“I just want you to bear with me 'cause I am only one,” you said. “Let’s have dinner first, okay?”

“All for you, sweet Trickster!,” Rook declared, taking your free hand and kissing it.

“A-ah! Okay?”

“What matters is your wish, Prefect,” Lilia skillfully took the plate of pancit from your other hand and also kissed it.

“B-but your guitar...!” He literally had put the instrument between his legs.

“There’s no time for questioning, magnefique apple of my eyes. Forward, my brave rival!”

“Said and done, hunter!”

You were still confused when they managed to find a way to literally drag you into the house, each holding your arms as if your weight was negligible and the situation completely normal.

It was obvious how Rook and Lilia, even if in different ways, could make you go “head over heels.” 

Well, you avoided reaching that angle when they deposited you on the couch and sat each by your sides. At least the animosity was gone and Lilia’s guitar was more securely propped up on the coffee table.

“Dinner, mes ami?,” Rook suggested. “Then a lyrical duel to the death?”

“A what...?”

“That’s fine for me,” Lilia accepted.

And so they lived happily ever after. At least until after dinner.

🦇🆚️🏹

Special Notes: It’s funny or maybe not how I can get drowned in my own work and never make any progress in months but the moment the inspiration for something strikes me as a lighting, suddenly I can pull off an entire 1525 thing in two nights straight. It’s quite simple and it goes more into comedy territory but it’s a homage for your underrated comedy skills, Pando! I still tried my best to make sure both Rook and Lilia could have their times to shine. I based most of the exchange in Lilia’s R Sports Card personal story with Rook (and just got off from that feeling). Have to say, I love a good unilateral passive-aggressive convo and they delivered <3

Now… any similarities of scenes from certain movies are completely my fault. I’m currently having a Die Hard and Kung Fu Panda brainrot, which is weird but it happened.

[kalifornia1025]

The Red Circle Pt. 3 (SPOILERS)

*Cutely drops my notes* 

John’s REALLY struggling with the tech. I almost feel bad for the guy (almost).

Aww the episode starts off with John asking the gang (Mariana & Sherlock) if they’re okay after finding a dead body. Always nice he checks in with them!

“The good doctor here” SHERLOCK COMPLIMENTING JOHN

Imani’s back, yay!

Oh no, poor Imani…

This exchange:

Imani: “Sorry about this” (sending another red circle pic)

Mariana: “No no no-don’t be sorry”

Sherlock: “Yes you musn’t it’s fantastic”

John: “Sherlock”

Gregson and Mariana are formerly meeting!

THE MUSIC IN THIS CASE OMG ITS SO GOOD!!!

John, you’re playing Italian Mob style music to “capture the mood”?? What happened to “not wanting to stereotype?!”

JOHN JUST REPLACE THE MIC GODDAMNIT

“Ahh do I have a PTSD friend?” John’s new method to making friends apparently 

Mariana’s right this is stupid just GET A NEW MIC!! You can still keep the old one, John!

I now have a mental image of Sherlock staring wide-eyed at a big tv like he’s in a trance and I LOVE it

Aww possible future movie nights with a new tv!!

DONALD TRUMP JUMPSCARE

Wives of Cheshire comeback HA!!

“Oh you out of your trance are you?” Seriously how mesmerized was Sherlock to the tv for John to make this joke TWICE?!

Mariana discovers the next clue, awesome!

Sherlock: “I don’t seem to have (seat)belt”, Gregson: “What a shame” Gregson you’re such a salty bitch and I love you for it

Poor John trying to get around copyright stuff

“That’s a good start, you did knock and you did say please-“ another sweet moment of Sherlock getting better with social norm stuff

Wow John is REALLY stressed, and Sherlock is NOT helping

Hehe Sherlock is an iPad kid confirmed

I’m starting to love John calling Sherlock ‘Sherls’

“What’s the Site manager like? Is he…she…they?” John says nonbinary rights

John: Ah I’ve stepped in piss”, Sherlock: “Show me the urine”…um what???

You really can’t catch a break your shoes, huh John?

I’m listening to Sherlock and John talk about possibly reaching down into toilets in order to solve the case…man I love this podcast

John: “You’re doing the next one”, Sherlock: *sharp inhale* “fine” tbf Sherlock this was YOUR idea

“The Patreon numbers are gonna collapse” no such thing sir I’ve checked and we’re all here and loving this

Sherlock: “Imani would you perhaps like to have a go?”, Imani: “No”, Sherlock: “Bugger” I love how quickly he says it

Neuralizer mention! I love the Men in Black movies so much

OOOH, John and Sherlock making the realization at the same time!

Sherlock why do you always have a gun??

NOT THE CHIPMUNK VOICES DURING AN EPIC MOMENT

“English pigs, wot?” John sounded so genuinely confused by that

AHHHHHHH CLIFFHANGERS, THE BANE OF MY EXISTENCE!!!!!!

Okay as painful as that cliffhanger is, this case is getting GOOD! I’m loving it. It’s definitely jumping up to my top five fave cases from the podcast. I was not expecting the case to be as silly as it is, and I’m absolutely relishing in it. I love the irony of John insisting this case is gonna be a bad one when I’m loving every minute of it! Alright everybody, now we just have to not die from waiting on the last part…see y’all next week!

[emberunderscore]

I know I said I wasn't going to start another project- but listen listen LISTEN

Scylla from epic the musical as like evil midas? does that make sense??? like. you know that part where it does all the bam bam bam and the the ewaewaewwae? no? fuck wait, I cant put this into words. wait a moment

I put this in my drafts for the day and Im back. LOOK AT MY VISION. PERCEIVE IT WITH YOUR EYES (warning for flash and glitching and stuff)

IF YOU WERE WONDERING YES I HAVE EDITED THE WHOLE SONG BUT ITS TOO LONG FOR TIKTOK SO IDK WHERE TO POST IT

[lilbitosunny]

"You may take those with torches. The rest continue with me. Unharmed. Do I make myself clear, Reaper?"

"Crystal, little lamb."

Close-ups and info below the cut

Hi hello to all- so I've made an evil lamb au I've decided to call the Ravenous AU. In the game, there are cannibal options and murder options and it got me thinking about doing an evil run in the game. So I started one, and now it's all I can think about.

This piece was inspired by Scylla from Epic The Musical

In this scenario; the Lamb takes a small group of followers to unlock the gateway to Anchor Deep. On their way back; the Lamb orders all but the Heretics with them to extinguish their torches.

I'll go more in-depth with the rules and lore and how I make it work in context of a story; but for now! Here are some juicy close-ups of the Reaper, his talisman, and the Lamb- Named Anubis

And yes- those shapes in the background are other followers he brought with him.

[ashonheavenscloud]

just us and the open road || h. jisung

⋆。𖦹°⭒˚。⋆ contents: han jisung x reader, fluff fluff fluff fluff, just a cute lil confession

⋆。𖦹°⭒˚。⋆ word count: 2.6K

⋆。𖦹°⭒˚。⋆ warnings: slightlyyy suggestive if you squint but not really lol

⋆。𖦹°⭒˚。⋆ a/n: another repost while i recover from all my travelling and work on other projects! this is old but still one of the ones i like the best. enjoy <3

now playing: i’m serious - day6

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

It’d been Jisung who’d insisted that the only proper way to start a road trip was a greasy bag of fast food.

Although it cut away from your already limited time, you agreed to stop at one of the joints along the way. Once the food was in your possession, the next step was getting out of the city. It was painfully slow, between the traffic and stoplights and the detour for food. You set up your phone for the music and sorted the food in the meantime; a chicken salad for you and a burger and fries for Jisung, although you snagged quite a few of the salty potato strips for yourself. At last the city began to melt away, and Jisung pulled onto one of the highways leading out of town. Buildings and little shops were replaced by wide stretches of country; tall grass, farmland and wide open air. Music filled the small vehicle as it sped forward, as if your little car was just as eager for this freedom as the two of you.

“Open the windows, baby!” Jisung crowed to no one in particular. Soon enough your hair was a mess in the wind, the sunroof was opened to the sky, and adrenaline was racing through every cell in your body. The very taste of freedom sailed along the breeze, refreshing in every sense of the word. You glanced over to see Jisung grinning, hair tangled in the wind, crackling energy alight in his eyes as he laughed with enjoyment. Your stomach was instantly filled with butterflies, and you returned your attention back to the food before he could notice your flustered state.

“Thus starts,” you broke off a chunk of burger, holding it out for Jisung to take with his teeth. “The most epic car trip that will ever grace this fine country road.”

The plan was simple: drive as far as the two of you could, stop in the middle of nowhere to see the stars, and drive back to greet the sunrise. A sleepless night had never seemed so appealing.

“Isn’t that a bit dramatic?” Jisung laughed between the food in his mouth, hands lightly gripping the steering wheel as he glanced at you, eyes turned to crescents of happiness. Gosh, you’d never seen him this light, as if leaving the city had momentarily relieved all of the burdens and responsibilities from his shoulders. That was exactly how you felt.

“This coming from you?”

“Touché.” He muttered, pouting as you poked his side. He yelped immediately, chiding, “I’m driving!”

You sat back in your seat, giggling as you stole another fry. He sighed dramatically. “I can’t wait till you’re in this seat.”

“Not for many long hours.” You teased, and Jisung snatched his fries from your grip with playful irritation.

You relented, swinging your legs up on the dashboard. Jisung glanced at you with a wry smile. “Where to?”

“Anywhere. Absolutely anywhere.” You responded, eyes on the blue, blue sky. As long as you were headed away from the city, you couldn’t care less where you were going.

“Yes, ma’am.” Jisung replied, and you knew he shared the exact same thoughts.

You’d always been like that, even as kids; completely in sync, as if you could read each other’s minds. It hadn’t taken long for him to become your closest friend. 

Friend. Right.

You shoved the sudden, uninvited thought from your head and spoke, “How do you feel about Day6?”

“Is that even a question?”

You laughed, cranking up the music and letting it blast out of the speakers. Perfect for a road trip. Perfect for drowning out thoughts you couldn’t let cross your mind.

He’d been your friend for years, and these recent… butterflies were throwing your mind off balance. Why hadn’t you noticed how cute his smile was before? Why were you just realizing how very kissable his heart shaped lips seemed? Why did you even want to kiss him??

You caught yourself staring a second before Jisung did, quickly averting your gaze to the road, pretending to admire the scenery when in reality he was the only one you wanted to admire. 

“What, like the view?” He teased, making your heart leap skyward. 

Damn, so he had noticed.

“Just making sure you didn’t get anything on your face.” You replied, hoping he didn’t notice the blush heating your cheeks.

“Sureeee-” he yelped as you poked him again, grinning. “Jeez, you really can’t keep your hands-”

“Shut it, Han Jisung.” You interrupted, pulling back and looking forward again. The damned flirt in him… you really wished he meant it, but you could never tell with him. A mystery, that’s what Jisung was.

He only smirked, eyes returning to the road. You couldn’t lie and say you were more than a little disappointed, yet you weren’t sure why.

Foolish hope. He flirts with everyone, you’re nothing special.

You tried to push away those thoughts and feelings as the countryside flew by. Eventually, you closed your eyes to relax and listen to Jisung hum along with the music filtering from the speakers, breeze ruffling your hair. Sometimes you peeked a look towards him, focused on driving, and let yourself drink in his features. Round chestnut eyes, adorable cheeks, that particular mole that sometimes gave you the most ridiculous urge to kiss it. He nearly caught you once, but you closed your eyes in time, his face inked in your brain.

In the calm, you tried to pinpoint the moment your platonic feelings towards your best friend had flipped to romantic. There were so many moments that you considered: that time you’d been bedridden with cramps, and he’d been there in an instant with a huge supply of chocolate and his Netflix password to pass the time. Or that time you’d been frantically studying for an exam, and Jisung had stayed up half the night over Facetime helping you cram any last knowledge into your brain. Or was it in the small moments like this, just side by side in your natural rhythm, where you’d fallen for him.

Between the steady driving of the car and the soothing music, you must have fallen asleep because Jisung shook you awake when the sky was tinged with sunset orange and pastel pinks.

“I almost didn’t want to wake you up, but,” he grinned, almost mischievously. “It’s your turn to drive.”

…

The next few hours of driving were filled with enthusiastic banter and ridiculously loud singing. Despite the aging heavens, your energy levels remained high in the clouds as the car sped forward underneath a dark sky. 

“...so she comes up to the counter, asks for whatever, and begins to flirt with me again.”

“Again?” You laughed at Jisung’s exasperated expression, recounting the girl who couldn’t seem to leave your friend alone.

“She really can’t seem to take the hint that I’m not interested.” He sighed, falling farther down in his seat.

You glanced at him from behind the wheel before turning your eyes back to the road, grinning, “Why not? She seems nice.”

“Oh God.” He groaned, making you laugh.

“Well, who are you interested in then?” You spoke the words before thinking about them, and instantly wanted to swallow them back up when Jisung turned his eyes to you and you had to try extra hard not to turn beet red.

“Secret.” He replied sweetly.

You sighed dramatically, to which he stuck out his tongue.

“What about you, huh?” He nudged your arm, and without warning your heart jumped in her chest. “Who’s the lucky-”

“No one.” You responded firmly, and Jisung chuckled.

“Now with an answer that fast, I know you have a crush.”

He laughed again at the redness spreading over your cheeks. Dammit.

“Well, I’m not telling either.”

“Fair enough.” Jisung propped his feet up on the dashboard, leaning back to close his eyes. “But I will find out.”

You weren’t quite sure what to say to that, so you just let Jisung nod off as you focused once more on the road.

Well, mostly focused-but how could you not get distracted by his soft little sighs in his sleep, and the small pout on his lips?

His extremely kissable lips-

You shook your head, trying to rid it of the thought, but when it returned you allowed a few small seconds to imagine it. Imagine you could kiss him, and what it might feel like to have him kiss you back. With the boy asleep beside you, it almost seemed possible.

At last, when you were certain you were in the absolute middle of nowhere, you slowed the car. Jisung must have sensed the change in pace; he shifted to stretch, and slowly opened his bleary eyes. 

Where you normally would have teased his dazed-ness, you found yourself simply staring, because he was rubbing his tired eyes and yawning and you couldn’t help but think of how adorable that was-

“Ready to see the stars?” You whispered at last, and that seemed to bring Jisung out of his sleepiness.

His eyes met yours with a glimmer of excitement. “Absolutely.”

With Jisung’s assistance, you crawled through the sunroof, hoisting yourself onto the roof of the car. After helping Jisung up as well, you turned your eyes to the glittering sky that immediately took your breath away. Without the obstruction of city lights, the sky was mapped with billions of stars that your awestruck eyes attempted to drink in, praying such a gorgeous sight would remain imprinted in your memory for as long as possible. The faint outline of galaxies trailed through the shimmering diamonds above. You swore you’d be content to stare at them every night for the rest of your life.

Maybe even for the rest of eternity, if the boy beside you was there, too. His eyes were almost glowing in the starlight, and a small smile of amazement flickered on his countenance. You didn’t realize you were staring until he caught you-damn, you were doing way too much of that today.

Instead of the anticipated teasing, however, he just smiled wider. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

You nodded. “So worth the trip.”

“Are you cold at all?”

His thoughtfulness was so endearing. You just shrugged. “Only a little.”

He scooted closer, shoulder brushing against yours and causing your heart to speed up at the light touch. He smelled nice, but you couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was. 

You attempted to distract yourself. “Ever learn about constellations?”

“What—like, the Big Dipper?”

“Yeah, I don’t know much either.” You chuckled, and Jisung grinned.

After a second of silence, he spoke up. “It’s kind of calming, don’t you think? The stars, I mean. Like—that’s the universe up there.”

“I think it’s a bit intimidating.” You admitted. “We’re so small in comparison to such a huge world.”

“I think that’s why I find it calming.” The boy murmured, and you watched him play with the sleeve of his tee as he spoke. “If I’m so small then my worries seem smaller, too. More manageable, you know? Not as hopeless.”

He seemed to get lost in his thoughts, so you gently nudged him. “Woah, you’re getting philosophical on me now?”

He laughed softly. “Whoops, guess it’s my inner genius coming out.”

You shoved him lightly, giggling. “Mm, sure.”

His smile was so wide now, and you swore he was glowing with happiness. He looked so beautiful right now that the next words kind of just tumbled out of your mouth without a second thought.

“So… who’s your crush?”

He sighed deeply. “Why are we talking about this again?”

“Hey, I’m curious!”

“I told you, it’s a secret.”

“I’m your best friend!”

“So?”

“So shouldn’t you confide your secret in me?” You leaned back on your palms, watching as his eyes reflected the galaxies above.

He was silent for a minute, eyes turning back to survey the stars. In the calm, you had time to wonder whether you really wanted to hear his answer or not, anyways. Because then that would be it. The answer.

“Okay, fine.” He turned, making your heart jolt as he leaned close to whisper in your ear. His breath was warm, his voice gentle and tinged with nerves: “It’s you.”

Words flew from your mind, taken by the night-time wind as Jisung pulled back again. The confident, irritatingly flirtatious boy’s eyes surveyed yours with an uncharacteristic apprehensiveness, his teeth trapping his bottom lip nervously. After a minute of silence only penetrated by chirping crickets, he clasped his hands together, murmuring. “You gonna tell me yours now?”

You didn’t even think about it when your hand found the back of his neck and pulled him into a firm kiss. He reacted immediately, lips moving slowly against yours, hands gingerly resting on your thighs as he leaned into the kiss, a light sigh escaping his mouth. That was enough for your stomach to explode with butterflies, your mind spinning into a daze before he pulled back, seemingly just as surprised as you. However the space between your lips lasted for hardly a second longer before he was kissing you again, more roughly this time, and every nerve of yours sparked aflame. His mouth moved with haste, like he was just as impatient as you’d been to kiss him—and you relished the idea that you might drive him just as crazy as he did you. He teased your mouth by biting softly into your bottom lip, pulling it back slowly as he broke away, leaving you stunned as your eyes batted open.

Jisung’s breathing was heavy as he opened his eyes to look at you, deep brown orbs filled with loving passion. “I don’t think I ever want to stop kissing you now.” He breathed, thumb brushing over your bottom lip.

“Then don’t.” You whispered, immediately feeling shy for such a bold statement. But all the boy did was grin giddily at you.

“Yes, ma’am.” He murmured; his hands hurriedly gripped both sides of your neck to tug you closer. He teasingly lingered a breath away from your lips before capturing them perfectly and wonderfully in his. 

And his kisses were everything. Sweet, chaste ones and fast-paced, passionate ones and everything in between. His tongue played with yours, pressing it down, digging deeper to taste every inch of your mouth. You felt his hands trail down to your hips, pushing you against the car roof as you wrapped your arms around his neck and let him take away every last one of your breaths.

And then it was just the two of you, tangled together under a dark, twinkling sky.

The night passed in a whirlwind of euphoric closeness. You talked and laughed and kissed and kissed him until both of your lips were numb. Too soon, you sadly accepted the fact that you needed to head home.

You buckled into the passenger seat and Jisung hit the gas, the beginnings of a sunrise visible in the pastel pinks and blues colouring the horizon. Tired, you leaned back in your seat. Soft r&b floated from the speakers, almost lulling you to sleep—but before you could nod off, you spoke, “Hey, Jisung?”

“Hmm?”

“I liked kissing you.”

He didn’t reply for a moment, and when you opened your curious eyes, the boy was simply watching you, eyes wandering over your whole figure, a glint of mischief in his eyes. 

“Just kissing—?”

“Shut it, Han Jisung.” It took everything in you not to smile too widely. “Eyes on the road.”

He smirked, hand coming to rest over your thigh—the damned flirt he was—and said, “You got it, babe.”

You closed your eyes with a small smile on your face, as one last thought bubbled to the surface of your mind before weariness brought you to sleep. Dear God, I am so in love.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

stray kids masterlist

navigation

[ptq3000]

ok, ok,, sleepovers with bakusquad :))

—

> the selective dorm you all go to is bakugo's dorm. he hates that everyone just agrees on his. mina would try to offer her dorm, but everyone knows damn well that she doesn't clean her dorm room as often.

> sero brings the most pillows, kirishima brings the most snacks, jirou brings movies or music (i feel like she'd have a karaoke machine), mina brings face masks or nail polish or makeup, and denki brings either video games or blankets.

> most of the time, the group doesn't even use the blankets denki brings. they just make a huge cuddle pile.

> cue the most epic night of your life though, it'll always be a chaotic sleepover. pillow fights that have bakugo as the reigning champ, mina trying to throw food into people's mouths. denki and bakugo going face to face in video games where bakugo ends up rage quitting and then sero would start recording bc denki boasts abt how good he is and bakugo explodes his ass.

> kirishima indulges in mina's girlie things bc he claims it's manly to be vulnerable. sero wouldn't give a shit abt it and denki would be very willing to join in. omg, kirishima would be the first person to have like the cucumbers on his eyes, clay facemask, nails waiting to dry. he's very calm and yes, everyone has pictures of that. even bakugo. even kirishima himself does too.

> jirou would exclude herself from some parts, like doing makeup, but painting nails together and group skin care?! hell yes, she's in!!

> bakugo....he hates it. mina definitely fights him on it and he gives in, but he doesn't enjoy it as much as everyone else does. he's getting there though..he shows interest, asking mina what certain products are supposed to do. but when she brings out the face masks,. bakugo's making it so difficult for her. he definitely refuses to stay still,, but it's still super fun!!!

> jirou + karaoke + bakusquad = so much fucking fun. mina's giving her all, bakugo straight up yells,, kirishima and sero are definitely decent singers despite them not really gloating abt it, and denki is someone who doesn't care how good he sounds but how much fun he's having.

> though, whenever denki sings, everyone's laughing too much. mina definitely almost peed herself one time and sero recorded it all. he's saved it in the group chat that everyone's in :)))

> have you gotten noise complaints? yes. has aizawa had to come over and shut you guys down? yep. did that ever stop you guys?!? hell no!! bc you cannot stop the fun that bakusquad will be having.

> most of the time,. everyone ends up sleeping at some point. but there were a couple times everyone attempted all nighters. spoiler alert!!! everyone but jirou fell asleep. she couldn't fall asleep bc denki was snoring too loud. at one point, bakugo woke up for a drink of water and when he did, jirou and him drew a mustache on denki's face.

> no. he did not know. denki did not find out until breakfast when iida asked why he had a mustache on his face. yes, jirou took pictures of that and always laughs out loud when she scrolls through her phone and finds it.

> sleep piles. sleep piles. sleep piles. it's not a bakusquad sleepover unless there's a sleep pile. bakugo and kirishima are usually the ones on the bottom of the pile. mina usually lays her head on kirishima and her legs are spread on bakugo. jirou would be sleeping on mina's stomach, back to back with sero, or by bakugo. she would probably knock some sense into bakugo if he pushed her or something. if she falls asleep, that is. sero is either back to back with jirou or on top of denki. denki is, most times, on top of everyone. everyone tries to push him off when he's asleep, but denki accidentally zaps them with his quirk in his sleep.

> everyone just fits wherever they can. it's natural and although SOME PEOPLE will complain abt it the whole time *cough* bakugo *cough*, everyone actually does have fun.

> honestly, it's a very fun time for everyone even if some people say that it's stupid. *cough* bakugo *cough*

—

a/n: heyy!! just wanted to post something so tadaa!!! have a good day, night, wtv time it is right now! <33

[writingmochi]

i only said | a visualizer and a teaser

cast: soobin ✗ fem.reader

synopsis: as you stood on the crowded train while making eye contact with the boy from the neighboring school. light shines into the dim train car as it becomes empty and filled with sand. approaching you is a humanoid figure, who calls you the king and queen of viliya—the island kingdom that is plagued with nightmares that haunt its people which you and the boy are also not immune to

genre: two lost souls find comfort, silent lovers, magical realism, meet ugly, hurt/comfort, adventure, thriller, coming of age, romance, high school au (both are 19 and in senior year), late 2010s au, modern royalty au, angst, fluff, mature content (phobias, trauma, war, explicit smut)

inspired by: music my bloody valentine's "i only said" (1991), txt's 2019-2020 star seekers music videos ("nap of the star", "magic island", "eternally"), and movies bridge to terabithia (2007) and tigers are not afraid (2017)

word count: 361 (teaser)

release: will not write so i can shock you ;) but it's going to be in 2024

message from the moon: i've been noticing a drought of epic and fantastical txt fics lately. so, i'm gonna do it myself :]

p.s. yes, late 2010s are already nostalgic enough that it can be its own au with its own style and tech

part of the loveless anthology

you always experience something weird when the train is nearing cheongdam. it is as if your senses are being attacked in a sweep when goosebumps form in a wave before it calms down. then it starts again as the train approaches the outdoor part of its journey to cross the body of water. the lights inside start to flicker as you see outside to view the han river from under the bridge, yet sometimes, it's not a river, but a beach.

the sky is the clear turquoise blue that reflects the seawater. the view of the river bank turns into sand that's lining the barrier of land and sea. you could sometimes hear the sound of crashing waves from it even if you only see the setting sky as it changes from day to night. though now, that turquoise sky is getting darker and darker, even darker than the sunset you usually see when you cross on the hanging tracks from the cheongdam bridge to ttukseom park.

then you see it: the visions.

quick timelapse of the neon street, crumbling buildings crashing down as their support couldn't hold on, humanoid beings who can fly as they attacked something dark. only the color orange highlights everything before you see flickers of a woman with long platinum blonde locks and white dress, calling out your name as your eyes are trying to focus on her heterochromia ones.

you've always held onto the nearest surface as you glance at the dots turning red between cheongdam and ttukseom park stations, breathing in and out as you felt your palm getting sweatier when you felt the whole compartment seemed to shake more and more as you approached the bridge and let the light from outside coming in. recently, the shakiness is getting rougher and the vision more frequent. but, you've always try to comfort yourself and see the boy across from you if he is okay.

because it seems like you're not the only one to notice all the things you've experienced, especially when you see him mumbling whilst staring at the red dots lighting up on top of the door when the train approaches the bridge.

taglist: @raeyunshm @leilasmom @evidive @boba-beom @kwiwin @heesw1fe @aloverga @endzii23 @fluffyywoo @camipendragon @hiqhkey @wccycc @cha0thicpisces @y4wnjunz @yeehawnana @beansworldsstuff @kimipxl @blurryriki @amazzwon @stayzentiny @rebsmoonn @angelbythewindow @ttyunz @itzzz-yerin @shinrjj

© writingmochi on tumblr, 2021-2024. all rights reserved

[inquisitively-infinitesimal]

little things from Grace Hodgett-Young and Dónal Finn’s last performance in Hadestown that I refuse to forget:

‘has anybody got a match’ and Orpheus FINDS HER A MATCH BUT HERMES GETS THERE FIRST

Eurydice’s waistcoat looks to be made out of a similar/the same material as Orpheus’ trousers

‘you wanna take me home?’ with an off shoulder moment that flusters Orpheus

Eurydice finding Hades hot, Orpheus trying to win her back (foreshadowing on how Eurydice chooses Hades/the underworld over Orpheus after Chips Are Down ???)

from A Gathering Storm until Chips Are Down while Orpheus is working on his song he conducts in time with the music … Dónal Finn even memorised some of the piano bits and mimed them on the table ????

Eurydice frequently trying to give Hermes the coins back in Chips Are Down only for them to stand there

also Hermes constantly checks the time . very time loop survivor of them

‘it’s you?’ ‘it’s me :D’ ft Orpheus pumping his fists into the air

Hades’ cunty walk on the turntable (it was like he was on a runway Zachary James makes Hades into such a personality I loved it)

the fake blood/makeup on the side of Orpheus’s face running down during If It’s True because Dónal was crying

the workers/shades taking off their work caps during If It’s True as an act of defiance against Hades

I only noticed this in act 2 it could’ve been in act 1 but Grace wore a hair band? something ? wrapped around her ring finger on her left hand

Persephone side eyeing Hades’ silly dancing in epic iii

‘you finished the song’ ‘yes!’ and the audience cheering throwing off both Dónal and Grace (Grace had to skip a line I think)

perhaps the most evil thing of all Orpheus pumps his fists into the air once he reaches the overworld only to look back and Eurydice’s still in the shade . My interpretation is that it’s following the version of the myth where Orpheus makes it out of the underworld but Eurydice has only taken one step forward/isn’t fully in the overworld when Orpheus turns back (he looks back too soon essentially)

anyway Dónal Finn’s If It’s True changed my life justice for Grace Hodgett Young she deserved a standing ovation at Flowers (I would’ve started it but one of the Fates triggered the next song before I worked up enough courage </3) and I am so glad that we’re getting a west end recording because I truly believe that everyone should hear Melanie La Barrie as Hermes at least once in their life

[lunarforager]

Who is Apollo?

Hello again, and welcome to another installment of "Introduction to the Hellenic Gods"! Today's deity is *drum roll* Apollo! He was the next alphabetically but Apollo is also another deity I have worked with myself and have a strong connection to.

---

Apollo is the name given to the ancient Greek god of oracles, healing, archery, music and the arts, and light. The Roman equivalent of Apollo is also named Apollo (makes things easy).

---

Apollo, unlike Aphrodite who we spoke of before, has one main birth myth.

The story actually begins with a Titaness named Asteria. Asteria, in an attempt to escape the god Zeus' advances, threw herself into the ocean. Where she entered the sea, a piece of disconnected land was created.

Later, when the goddess Leto was impregnated by Zeus, she was cursed by Zeus' scornful wife, Hera, to not be able to give birth on any piece of land or island. While searching for a place to give birth, Leto discovered this piece of disconnected land and gave birth to her two twins, Apollo and Artemis. This piece of land was then connected to the earth by Apollo himself and was named Delos. (For anyone wondering, yes I will be covering Artemis in this series very soon!)

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Apollo was also known by many different epithets throughout Greece and Rome. By far, the most common and most used of the epithets is Phoebus Apollo, translated roughly as Bright Apollo. This is most likely why Apollo is so heavily connected to and is seen as the god of light.

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Some interesting facts about Apollo you might not have known:

Apollo is also sometimes represented as the god of disease, and when praying to him, people would not pray for healing but instead would pray to be protected from the disease he was sending their way. This is actually seen in the first book of Homer's Iliad, where Apollo sends down a plague of arrows on the Achaeans for kidnapping the daughter of a priest of his.

Apollo wasn't always the god of the sun. This title actually belonged to Helios but over time the two were combined into one deity and/or Apollo was seen as the sun god while Helios was instead seen as the sun personified.

Apollo is a prime example of LGBTQ+ identities being present far before the start of the modern era as there are many myths and legends about the god being attracted to and being in relationships with people of the same sex such as his relationship with Hyacinthus or his relationship with Cyparissus.

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My favourite pieces of art and literature that depict Apollo!:

Apollo Belvedere by Leochares --> This statue depicts Apollo and is a copy of the original bronze statue. It is currently held in the Vatican

The Iliad by Homer --> In Book 1 of this epic, the god Apollo sends down a plague on the Achaean soldiers for kidnapping the daughter of a priest of his

Kylix of Apollo --> This piece of traditional Greek pottery depicts the god Apollo sitting on a chair pouring out wine and holding the instrument most connected with him, the lyre

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Thank you all so much for the support so far on this blog! I apologize for such a late update but I was super busy today hanging out with some friends I haven't seen in such a long time and spending much needed time with my partner! I thank Aphrodite for giving me such a lovely partner who is willing to spend hundreds of dollars on Florence + the Machine posters for me lol!