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jinwoosungs · 13 days

Text

{ 163 }

anomaly.

jinwoo sung x isekai’d!fem.reader

{ you think your days are uneventful | and no one ever thinks about you… }

you had no rhyme or reason, not even a mere explanation, as to how this was possible.

you found yourself in the fictional world of solo leveling; a world that you adored with all your heart.

back in the real world...

you recall spending hours of your days binge reading the chapters of the manwha on your phone, falling in love with the amazing art style and the action sequences. it was embarrassing for you to admit, but in the midst of you reading the comic, you ended up developing quite the crush on the main protagonist, sung jinwoo.

of course, you were well aware of how he already had a canon love interest, but a part of you truly didn't care. when your emotions became too much for you to handle, that was when you would constantly search for any inserts pertaining to him, drowning yourself in such wonderful daydreams while saving each and every story you came across within the safety of your phone.

and when solo leveling's mobile game was announced-

you were the first to sign up for it immediately. once the game had launched globally for you to enjoy, you quickly dove into the game while doing your best to care for jinwoo. sure, there were some hiccups along the way, and you accidentally made him 'die' on some occasions, but still, you allowed your love for jinwoo to push you forward.

you spent some of your money on purchasing better items and weapons for jinwoo, slowly leveling up jinwoo in a more safe and efficient manner. and while you were simply enjoying the game, the last you you remember was working on grinding up jinwoo's level before falling asleep within the comfort of your bed-

only to find yourself in an unknown bedroom within an unfamiliar apartment. a gasp escapes from your lips when you look down at your hands, realizing that they looked... more colorful and bright-

almost as if you had been drawn and colored in.

a sudden knock heard on your door breaks you out of your thoughts, trailing your eyes to see your mother opening the door for you, "morning sweetheart, it's time to get up and go to classes!"

you were shocked to see that it was actually your mother who greets you with a sweet smile on her face. she was dressed in soft clothes consisting of a sweater and jeans with her arms crossed over her chest, waiting for you to get up.

"mom, i- where are we right now?"

she frowns upon hearing your question, "what do you mean? we're in seoul, your father got promoted as a hunter and was transferred to the korean hunter's association branch, remember?"

your mind was spinning. there was no way in hell this was real! your parents were both regular office workers. you had never once seen your dad with any combative abilities-

were you dreaming?

had your daydreams pertaining to solo leveling's world made you hallucinate this much?

as if sensing your confusion and discomfort, your mother goes inside your room and settles herself on your bed, reaching out a hand to you as she brushed back your hair. "honey, are you alright?"

you swallow thickly and tried to even out your breathing. "i-i'm fine! but uhm... just to double check... do you and i have any... abilities?"

your mother shakes her head and continues to gently brush back your hair. "no, we are normal civilians, but don't worry! your father will protect us..." she meets your gaze and asks in a warm and concerned manner, "did you wish to skip classes for the day? i'm sure your professors won't mind as much, since you are a university student."

you shake your head at the offer, actually feeling quite eager to explore the world of your beloved webcomic. "no mom, it's okay! i just had a strange dream... and was a little confused, that's all."

she gives you another bright smile before leaning in to press a kiss against your hair. "alright then, i'll make some breakfast for you, and you can head out to your classes afterwards."

she finally leaves you alone then, heading back out into the kitchen as you bolted out of bed to look at your reflection in the mirror. your features remained the same, yet now that you were 'drawn' into the art style of solo leveling, you knew that you were much prettier than usual.

gone were the acne scars and blemishes, and despite your figure remaining the same, you felt quite confident in it. as you touch at your face, admiring the bright quality of your eyes, you couldn't help but sigh to yourself.

"i may look better, but i still don't think i'm a match for cha hae-in."

despite how you could feel your heart pounding with excitement and anticipation at the thought of meeting sung jinwoo someday, you knew better than to get your hopes up. after all, he must have had his second awakening already and was simply doing raids and attending meetings and conferences throughout the world (as per the plot). you knew that his romance with cha hae-in would start to blossom soon, and you didn't wish to acknowledge or even be a witness to it.

in this world, even though i love it so much and would LOVE to be a badass hunter or a healer, i'm still just a civilian.

you continue admiring yourself in the mirror with an almost wistful expression. "maybe it's a blessing that i am a civilian and jinwoo is a hunter..."

that way, i don't have to meet him; i can save myself the heartache and forever remain out of his personal orbit.

you hear your mom calling out to you to come get ready and come to eat breakfast, breaking you out of your reveries as you walked out of your bedroom with a newfound eagerness.

{ ... }

[ ANOMALY DETECTED. ]

jinwoo was simply settled within his office, looking over some reports when the system showed him a new notification. he frowns at the translucent screen, hands reaching up to tap at it.

[ ANOMALY DETECTED. WOULD YOU LIKE TO VIEW IT?

YES / NO ? ]

he could feel his eyes flash purple in response, filled to the brim with concern at the thought of a brand new threat that appeared in his world.

"yes." was his simple answer, eyes becoming glued to the screen as he waited for what the system would show him-

only to feel a bit dumbfounded upon seeing a young woman walking out of her apartment. she was dressed casually with a bag slung over her shoulder, clearly a student as she made her way to the station.

"system, what makes this woman an anomaly?" he asks it casually, waiting for yet another reply. within seconds, a new screen was seen.

[ DIFFERENT UNIVERSE. ]

this message made jinwoo's eyes go wide, his anger quickly being replaced by curiosity. "and how are you certain she's from a different universe?"

[ SHE IS AWARE THAT SHE COMES FROM A DIFFERENT UNIVERSE. SHE IS THE ONLY ONE WHO IS AWARE. SHE IS AN ANOMALY. ]

jinwoo was intrigued now, hands remaining folded against his desk as his glowing, purple eyes continue to watch the woman go on with her day.

interesting... very interesting indeed.

{ ... }

even though you were simply making your way to class, you were honestly having so much fun. even though you technically haven't been out exploring seoul before, it was like you were running on autopilot, with your legs having no issue taking you to the university you attended.

there was a strange sense of familiarity that washes over you, and it almost felt like you were a character that was meant to be within solo leveling's world-

almost.

upon arriving at your university, you greet the two girls that you assumed were meant to be your friends, joining them before and after classes as you managed to enjoy lunch with them. during your classes, you were pleasantly surprised to find that you could understand the textbooks and the professor's written notes as you copied them diligently within your own notebook.

with your classes completed later that afternoon, you decided to spend some time exploring the city, basking in the beauty of the late afternoon while enjoying the sunset. as you stopped in the middle of the sidewalk while admiring the warmth of the setting sun, your phone began to ring with an incoming call from your mother.

picking it up on the second ring, you answer, "hello? hey mom, what's up?"

"you're finished for the day, right? do you mind coming home so that you can help me prepare dinner?"

"of course. i'll see you soon. i love you, mom!"

you hear her laughter on the other end. "i love you, too. stay safe, and come home soon!"

after hanging up the call, you walk with your head held high and a bounce in your step.

even knowing the dangers that were to come-

(the monarch's invasion settled within the heart of this city)-

you held no anxiety or fear because jinwoo would ultimately take care of the war, protecting everyone and everything that lived on this earth while taking on the burden all on his own.

{ ... }

jinwoo had been watching the young woman for quite a few weeks now, and he was fascinated by her carefree and happy nature.

had those who came from a different universe always remained this happy?

even when she was simply doing mundane things like...

attending classes,

helping her mother cook,

eating dinner with her parents the moment her father came home,

and simply studying-

jinwoo couldn't look away.

it was like her finding joy with the simple things in life was like a beacon of light to him. she had an inner beauty that called out to jinwoo, and he found himself desperate to know more about her.

i should meet her soon... and place a shadow soldier on her.

he swipes away at the system's screen the moment he sees her get into bed. knowing that she had class the next day, jinwoo decides to make some time to meet her once and for all.

{ ... }

"oh my god, is that who i think it is?!" one of your friends was heard crying out to you, hanging on to your arm in a tight manner as she stops you from crossing the gate.

"hm? what are you talking about?" you ask with a yawn.

"it's him! the latest s-rank hunter, sung jinwoo!" your other friend was practically freaking out, too, eyes going wide as a dreamy expression crosses her features.

of course, how could you forget? in this world, powerful hunters were viewed and treated like celebrities. as you strained to look toward the gates, you saw that it was indeed jinwoo settled near the gates. he was dressed in his usual coat and suit with what looked like a bouquet of flowers in his hand.

strange, does cha hae-in attend this university, too?

you thought to yourself, even though you were 100% certain that she only worked as a hunter-

but why else would jinwoo be here with a bouquet of flowers?

"you guys go ahead and meet him." you slowly back away from your friends, adjusting your bag as you looked toward the other gate of your university, "i just know that he is going to have a whole group of fans flocking to him, and i don't want to be late. i made plans with my parents." you lie through your teeth before making a dash away from the gate, not even bothering to reply to your friend's protests.

you were determined to never meet with jinwoo-

after all, you didn't want to even fall any more in love with him than you already were-

especially when knowing that he had always belonged to someone else.

however, in the midst of you running away, you were unaware of a pair of glowing, purple eyes that followed your every movement.

{ ... }

she's avoiding me...

jinwoo finds himself back home, barely touching the dinner his mother had prepared for him. his chopsticks kept picking at the rice, eating it a single grain at a time while deep in thought.

"oppa, if you keep going at that pace, you'll be stuck here forever." jinah teases him between bites of her own food, "seriously, what's up with you?"

not even jinah's teasing could break him out of his intrusive thoughts, earning a concerned look from his mother. "jinah, could you give me a moment to talk to your brother?"

she rolls her eyes playfully, but ultimately listens to her, standing from her seat with her bowl of rice and side dishes in hand, giving them some privacy. unable to find his appetite, jinwoo puts down his bowl and pushes it away from him. feeling her touch as she reaches across the table toward him, his chin was suddenly being held by his mother, her own dark eyes filled with concern for him.

"what's wrong, my love?"

he swallows thickly, trying to hide how he was feeling. "nothing is wrong..."

because she was his mother, he should have known better than to lie. "you're heartbroken."

jinwoo stiffens completely when he hears her words. "n-not exactly when she... ah... she doesn't know that i exist. or rather... she doesn't even wish to acknowledge me."

his mother remains silent for a few beats before letting out a soft laughter. "well, perhaps the young lady is a bit intimidated by you, jinwoo."

he could feel his eyes going wide upon hearing her words, feeling shy when she kept on laughing, "in fact, you remind me of your father. when i first met him, i was filled with such joy and love at the mere sight of him. yet... because i had never felt such a powerful sense of love before, i tended to shy away from him a bit."

his mother continues to speak with her eyes closed, "but despite my distance, your father was persistent. he never once gave up on me, always sending me sweet gifts and taking me out on fun little dates. it was through his kindness alone that he had captured my heart completely, getting rid of my doubts since i knew that he was the one for me."

jinwoo smiled at his mother, allowing her to bask in her memories with a hint of sadness felt within his heart.

"so, what are you suggesting that i do then?"

his mother finally opens her eyes before giving him a wide grin, "if she means that much to you, then you need to capture her heart... turn whatever anxieties she has for you into something softer and warmer... like love. you are your father's son, and i know that you not only inherited his appearance, but his tenacity as well..."

he could feel his heart grow lighter in response to her words, now being filled with a newfound courage. letting out a light chuckle when he stands from his seat, coming towards his mother so that he could press a kiss against her hair.

"thanks mom... for the advice. i know exactly what i need to do now."

{ ... }

ever since you first caught sight of jinwoo lingering outside of your university, you had been extra cautious of your surroundings. sure, you were well aware that he had the power to keep track of you through inserting his soldiers within your shadow-

but if you were nowhere near his periphery, then he could not insert them into your shadow, therefore, making it unable for him to watch you fully.

so in your head, there was no way jinwoo could possibly keep track of you.

about a month had passed since you and your friends saw jinwoo, and ever since then, you didn't see him (thank the rulers above). since you were much more relaxed right now, completely convinced that jinwoo being close to your campus was a mere coincidence. and who knows? maybe that was the chosen meeting place he and hae-in had agreed on.

wishing to enjoy your saturday, you finish eating breakfast with your parents before telling them about your plans of enjoying the city. of course, they let you do as you pleased while making you promise them to be home by 9pm at the latest. sealing your promise with them, you grab your bag that held your phone and wallet before leaving your apartment.

the weather was so nice, and you could feel the gentle wind coursing through your hair, making you let out a happy sigh. you stop walking and take a moment to enjoy the weather. "i knew it was a good idea to come out of the house."

"about time."

you freeze upon hearing a deep chuckle settled a few feet away from you, making your eyes go wide as you saw what appeared to be shadowy wisps forming before you.

you were left gaping when jinwoo reveals himself from the shadows, giving you a smug expression.

"did you think you could hide from me forever?" amusement was seen shining within his grey eyes, appearing as bright as silver with the way the sun was seen against them. you were caught off guard, whispering to him in a shocked manner, "you wasted your shadow exchange for this?"

jinwoo's eyes were tilted upwards in question, "oh, so you know a lot about me then?"

he ignores your flustered expression, coming closer to you as he held your chin tightly with one of his hands. he forces you to look at him, a look of annoyance with a hint of anger shimmering within his now glowing, purple eyes.

"why have you been avoiding me?"

his question comes out as strained, and you had no clear answer to give him without spilling your own secrets.

because i'm not from this world?

because i'm half in love with you due to the fact that you're my comfort character?

because i don't want to see you falling for cha hae-in and feel hurt and envious at the same time?

yet none of those words fall from your parted lips, and you couldn't stop yourself from meeting his gaze with a pout. seeing your expression, he sighs and immediately lets go of your chin. running a hand through his hair, he appears disappointed in himself when he meets your gaze again.

"i'm sorry, i was supposed to treat you gently..." jinwoo apologizes to you before taking a hold of your hand. "come on, let me take you out on a proper date."

by now, your mind was spinning, sputtering out weak protests as you could feel the heat against your cheeks. were you dreaming again? was this actually happening?

did your fantasies just come to life?

still caught in a daze, you and jinwoo had been walking for quite some time when he finally stopped at what looked like an amusement park. you look behind you to double check yourself, taking note that the skies were still perfect and sunny-

not at all swallowed up by a looming, purple gate.

a knowing smile crosses your features when jinwoo purchases tickets for you and him to go into the park, making you bask in the sweet scents of cakes, candies, with a hint of buttery popcorn. of course, thanks to his status as an s-rank hunter, he was allowed entry with you within mere minutes.

as you both walk into the amusement park, the crowd of people that once lingered quickly parted ways, their excited whispers could be heard while jinwoo kept your hand held tightly within his.

"no way, it's hunter sung jinwoo!"

"who's that with him?"

"i don't believe she's a hunter..."

"hunter sung with a regular civilian? wow, that's unheard of."

you felt your anxieties beginning to mount when jinwoo suddenly gave your hand a squeeze.

"just ignore them and don't even worry about it." jinwoo's smile manages to captivate you, and you had to look away from him (unless you wished for your heart to burst from the confines of your chest!)

why didn't you go with hae-in instead, like you were supposed to?

you didn't allow your jealousy to ruin this seemingly perfect moment with him, deciding to ask instead, "why did you want to go here with me?"

jinwoo shrugs while looking straight ahead. "i've always wanted to try and go here once... while taking a chance to get to know you better."

you blink up at him, detecting what he was hinting in his voice.

had he been watching you after all?

did he know that you weren't meant to be here-

is that why he held an interest in you?

because you weren't normal-

because you were an anomaly?

"do you want to get on that ride first?" jinwoo breaks through your thoughts, making you look up to see one of the rollercoasters. with a smile, you knew that you would enjoy each and every ride more so than cha hae-in ever could since you were still a mere civilian. such cheap thrills were still very much entertaining to you.

"yes! if it's at all possible, i'd like to ride everything at least once!" you tell him with a wide smile, squeezing his hand in response when he smiles down at you.

"sure, let's go on every ride, then."

so you spent the next several hours getting on each and every ride. while jinwoo maintained a blank expression, you raised your arms up and continued to yell with joy and happiness. each ride filled you with an exhilaration you hadn't felt in a long time.

and with jinwoo follwing you every step of the way, you only felt your happiness increase.

after tiring yourself out with all the rides, jinwoo buys you lunch consisting of a cheeseburger meal. you look over at him, seeing him sipping at his soda while not even eating. between bites of your burger, you asked him why he didn't get anything to eat.

in response to your question, jinwoo simply rests his cheek against the palm of his hand. "i'm not hungry... because seeing your happiness and smile is enough to fill me."

your eyes go wide, not expecting jinwoo to say such a thing to you. as your heart began to race in response, you saw jinwoo looking away from you with a blush and a grin. he remains quiet, allowing you to finish your meal when he suddenly asks, "i know you're probably tired from all those rides, but... do you think you can handle one last ride with me?"

your breathing becomes labored then, heart already beginning to skip beats when you realized what was going to happen next...

{ ... }

your screams could be heard as you practically cling to jinwoo while riding on kaisel's back. as the shadow monarch kept laughing at your terrified screams, you were doing all that you could to keep from puking up your lunch!

the wyvern's wings seemed to cut through the skies, picking up speed at jinwoo's commands as you held on to him in an even tighter manner. after what felt like an eternity, kaisel began to slow down its flight, landing in the midst of a forested area while jinwoo carried you down its back.

jinwoo lands against the plush grass with you still in his embrace, still giving you an innocent smile while admiring your scowling face.

he calls out your name in between his laughter, "are you alright?"

you shake your head and fought back the dizziness coupled along with the contents of your food felt swirling in your stomach. "n-no... that was practically maniacal of you, sung jinwoo."

jinwoo's laughter becomes louder now, still keeping you in his arms when he tells you with a hint of arrogance. "consider this as payback for purposely ignoring me for so long."

his words only makes the nausea get worse, filling you with anxiety when he continues to walk even deeper into the forest, not stopping until he reached a clearing that you were all too familiar with.

your heart clenched with pain at the memory of hae-in with jinwoo at this exact location, watching as a shooting star was seen decorating the night sky.

yet, with you still in his embrace, the scene was a little different.

jinwoo settles himself against the grass, placing you on his lap with his arms wrapped around you. he presses your back against his chest with a hum, never once looking away from the skies while keeping you close to him.

your heart was still racing painfully, but you struggled to find the right words to even say to him. and as you were stewing in your thoughts, you knew you had to tell him the truth.

"do you realize that i am not originally part of your universe?"

jinwoo doesn't look away from the skies, only letting out another hum as his grin seemed to widen in response to your question. "of course i know... but don't worry. it doesn't matter to me where you're from... as long as you agree to be mine from now on."

your mouth turns dry at his answer, making you turn around to face him, "w-what? how can it not matter to you? i...i tried so hard not to get in the way of your life, b-because you deserved to be happy with cha hae-in..."

he meets your gaze then, eyes glowing purple once more, "you thought that was best for me?"

your throat clenches painfully and you look away from him, only managing a nod in response.

"...is that why you were so dead set on avoiding me?"

you shut your eyes and let out a shaky "yes, i didn't want to fall even more in love with you... knowing that you belonged to her originally."

"don't be ridiculous... i am my own person and can very much choose who i wish to be with." jinwoo reassures you in between bouts of his laughter, tightening his hold on you before continuing, "i've said it before, and i'll say it again, it doesn't matter to me where you came from."

he shifts the way he held you just then, turning you around so that you were now fully facing him, with your hands against his shoulders. your face was getting hotter by the minute, and from the way jinwoo was holding you in place, you couldn't even look away from him.

"when the system alerted me to your presence, i thought that you were a threat... but the more i observed you, i came to admire you..."

shutting his eyes, you felt jinwoo gently delving his fingers into your hair before continuing, "i was honestly so mesmerized by your presence... and i kept thinking to myself... 'how are you able to be so happy all the time? how are you so filled with love for your family and friends? why did you exude so much light...?'"

jinwoo opens his eyes once more, now framing at your face with his two hands, "you being in my universe was the best thing that ever happened to me... and you being here makes me happy, do you understand?"

"jinwoo..."

your whisper of his name was all you could manage when he suddenly tightens his arms around you, bringing your head down closer to his when he perfectly slots his lips with yours, kissing you with a passion you had never once felt before as you basked in this moment with him...

a.n. - ahhhh i'm so happy at how this came out! i've wanted to do a story like this for a while, and i hope that you readers have enjoyed it as well 🥹

edit: i'm trying to make this appear in the tags, so i'm sorry if this is a double post to you! 😭

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

#sung jinwoo x reader #jinwoo sung x reader #sung jinwoo x you #jinwoo sung x you #solo leveling x reader #.stories

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constantcrisis19 · 26 days

Text

Found Family

Simon "Ghost" Riley x GN S/O

AN: So, I changed a bit about the reader and Ghost's backstory in Domestic Bliss, I went ahead and linked it just in case you might wanna go back and reread that to see the new lore. Otherwise, I hope you enjoy the newest installation to the Married series!

Word Count: 2,647

Main Page

“Evening.” Price said as he stepped into the lounge, giving the group of you a quick nod of acknowledgement on his way to the pot of fresh coffee that was sitting on the counter. He got scattered responses from the other four occupants of the room as he dug a chipped mug out of the cabinet and set it onto the counter before filling it all the way to the top with the bitter beverage.

He either wasn’t affected by the heat or was simply too impatient to wait for his drink to cool because he didn’t even hesitate before lifting the mug to his lips and taking a large gulp of what you were sure was scalding coffee while showing no signs of discomfort.

"I made some chicken carbonara for the boys if you wanted some, Captain." You mused with a grin, using the plate in your hand that you had just cleaned to gesture at the large pot of pasta that was currently sitting on the stove top.

You had started cooking on a whim earlier and Soap had wandered into the kitchen with Gaz, the two curious Sergeants immediately swarming you where you’d been standing at the stove and needling at you until you caved and admitted that you were making lunch and yes there was enough for them to have some as well.

Soap’s eyes lit up with delight as he leaned closer to the pot in order to get a better look and your eyes narrowed in suspicion as you watched him. You opened your mouth with the intent of thoroughly scolding the nosey Scot for practically shoving his face into the pasta you were preparing but, before you could even get a single word out, Gaz distracted you by pulling you into a one-armed hug.

“Soap–” You barked at the man, scowling at the side of Soap’s head when he ignored your warning in favor of carelessly dipping the tip of his finger into the sauce before popping the digit into his mouth, the Scot humming happily before pulling his finger out and going for seconds.

“Would you quit that? I swear you're worse than a toddler.” You snapped as you stubbornly pushed out of Gaz’s hold and aggressively grabbed Soap’s wrist in order to stop him from further contaminating the food, squeezing until you could feel the delicate bones grinding underneath your fingers and you saw Soap wince.

Guilt hit you like a boot to the gut once you noticed his discomfort and you immediately relaxed your tight grip so that your fingers were just loosely encircling his wrist before gently leading him away from the stove, insistently shooing the two troublemakers over to the table to wait until the food was done.

Ghost also found his way to the lounge at some point, the man as silent as his namesake as he approached you from behind and draped himself over your back, expertly ignoring the wolf whistles and jeering from the other two occupants in the room as he nuzzled his face into the side of your neck, pressing a soft kiss against your skin through the worn fabric of his balaclava.

“Hmm…” Price gave a thoughtful hum, the sound pulling you from your reminiscing and bringing you back to the present. “I suppose I can spare some time for grub… I’d be a fool to turn down your hospitality.” Price gave a dry chuckle as he walked into the kitchen.

"Well there's plenty left. I made sure to make a lot because all of you are big boys." You laughed, watching Price as he sauntered over to a cupboard to retrieve a plate before moving over to the pot of bubbling pasta in order to serve himself a heaping pile.

Price nodded to himself at the compliment, the plate in his hand looking comically small in comparison to the sheer amount of carbonara that he’d managed to spoon onto it, before he walked to the table and sat down opposite Gaz, who was in the process of messily shoveling a forkful of noodles into his mouth.

"I think you’ll like it, Captain. Simon’s on his third serving already, which is practically a ringing endorsement coming from him.” You snorted, shooting a smug look at Ghost as you gracelessly flopped down into the seat next to him with your own helping of food, your lovely husband not even bothering to lift his head from his plate as he used his free hand to eloquently brandish his middle finger.

“You don’t say? I have always suspected that Simon didn’t have a sense of taste.” Price stated, slightly amused, and you could tell that he was genuinely relaxed and in a good mood, which was rare for him.

"How dare you insinuate that he only likes my cooking because he can't taste it. You better sleep with one eye open tonight, Captain." You growled playfully as you brandished your fork at where Price was sitting across from you threateningly with a faux-insulted expression plastered on your face. “Right, darling?" You demanded in true theatrical fashion as you turned to level Ghost with an expectant stare, your arms crossed.

“Sure, dove.” Ghost answered dryly, his emotionless voice giving nothing away. Though, because you’ve known him for several decades, you knew exactly what to look for in order to tell whether or not he was enjoying himself. You knew how to look past the cold facade that he put up and saw the mirth sparkling in his dark eyes, the way the corners of his mouth curled into a barely-there smile, his body language much more honest about how he was feeling.

"Ha! See? Two against one, Captain… and I don't like your odds of seeing the next sunrise." You cackled openly, a wide grin spreading across your face when Soap and Gaz joined in, the Scot letting loose a bark of laughter that quickly turned into a coughing fit when he choked on the mouthful of food he’d been in the process of chewing like an idiot.

You glanced over at Ghost when the man dutifully pushed his full glass of water to the wheezing Sergeant, your eyes narrowing in disapproval before you smacked his bicep with the back of your hand in a wordless reprimand when you caught his mouth quirking up at corners in sadistic amusement as Soap hacked up a lung, because he was an asshole like that.

“Yeah, I’m shaking in my boots.” Price replied with a little shake of his head, his sarcastic tone slightly dampened by the genuine amusement in his voice.

"As you should be." You nodded firmly, taking a quick bite of your food and chewing thoughtfully before swallowing. "Have you seen Ghost and I in the field? We are an absolute unit. Aren't we, honey?" You declared before turning your attention back to Ghost, leveling him with a shit-eating grin.

“Affirmative.” Ghost agreed easily –like the absolute ass-kisser that he was with you– and you straightened up in your seat and leaned forward in order to press a sloppy kiss to the sharp line of his jaw, the man obediently tilting his head to give you more space to work with.

“It's time to move aside, Soap, I’m taking your spot as Ghost’s favorite. I've already got him agreeing to everything I say.” You crowed good-naturedly as you pulled away from Simon and fell back into your seat, pointing at Soap with a wolfish grin.

“Yeah right. Even if ye were the favorite, it's only ‘cuz he’s biased. Ah mean, it is his ring ye got on yer finger, ye numpty.” Soap scoffed with a roll of his eyes, the Scot taking a particularly vicious stab at the food on his plate, causing the tines of his fork to scrape over the ceramic unpleasantly.

“Aw, you sound pretty bitter about that, Soap. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you have a little crush on me.” You said with a shit-eating grin, the man in question taking his sweet ass time noisily slurping up a mouthful of noodles with a grunt of effort before lazily wiping his sauce coated chin with the back of his hand like a disgusting brute.

“Nah. Yer not mah type, love.” Soap scoffed with a dismissive wave of his hand and you raised a brow at him, placing an elbow onto the tabletop and slowly leaning forward over the table separating the two of you until Soap’s eyes flicked up from his rapidly emptying plate in favor of warily eyeing you as if you were a lit fuse.

“Is that so? Well, if it's Ghost you're interested in then I suppose I could lend him to you for a night, on one condition… I get to watch.” You whispered teasingly as you fluttered your eyelashes, watching with sadistic glee as Soap flushed a bright red and began to defensively stutter out panicked protests.

“Tryin’ to pimp me out, are we?” Ghost huffed as he kept his eyes down, his gaze stubbornly locked onto his newly refilled plate to avoid looking at anyone as he tucked into his fourth serving. How he managed to get up, get himself more pasta, and sit back down all without you noticing, you had no idea.

“It’s your fault for being so alluring, babydoll.” You purred salaciously as you sat back into your seat properly, turning to press a firm kiss to Ghost’s broad shoulder before blinking up at him as if you were an innocent angel that could do no wrong, knowing damn well that it never failed to soften the man up.

“Keep it PG, would you?” Price demanded, sounding mildly annoyed by the turn that the conversation had taken.

“Yes sir.” You said amicably as you turned away from Ghost, who had stopped eating in order to stare at you in that intense way that told you that he was imagining things that certainly weren’t appropriate to entertain during lunch with your colleagues, giving Price a half-assed salute that no doubt had him silently begging the Lord for the patience to deal with your antics.

“So, if you're disqualified from the competition on account of being married to Ghost, then we're back to square one aren't we?” Gaz asked lifting his hat up by the bill in order to scratch at his head before dutifully resettling it into place.

“Well, Ghost an’ ah have the best correspondence on comms.” Soap offered after a moment of silence, the Scot radiating a smug air that was –in your opinion– totally unfounded as he pushed his plate aside, placing his full focus onto the debate at hand.

“You call what you two cunts do over comms professional? I’d classify it as softcore porn or blatant foreplay.” Gaz blurted out with an incredulous laugh, and you had to bite the inside of your cheek until you tasted iron in order to avoid grinning like a loon when Soap’s previously self-satisfied expression was ruthlessly wiped from his face and replaced by a petulant pout.

“It still counts as proof of our unbreakable bond–” Soap began to argue adamantly, that telltale determined glint lighting up his eyes –the one that usually only reared its ugly head when the Scot was about to disobey orders and pull something crazy– and you decided to butt in and do some damage control before Soap could get too worked up.

“Now, now, boys. Let's not get too hasty, Simon can easily settle this debate for us." You interrupted Soap mid-rant and the three of you all simultaneously turned to stare at Ghost expectantly, who was scraping up the last of the sauce and noodles from his plate with his fork. "So, Ghost, who do you like being in the field with the most?" You asked, your narrowed stare looking into his uncannily blank eyes in a searching manner.

Ghost didn’t hesitate for a moment.

“You.” He replied in a flat, matter-of-fact tone and you saw Price raise an eyebrow in your peripheral vision, Soap and Gaz looking similarly stunned by the declaration.

"Hear that, losers? I'm the unequivocal favorite." You gloated as you laced your hands together behind your head and leaned back in your chair, all but preening as you smiled triumphantly at winning a competition you weren’t even technically a candidate for, at least according to Soap and Gaz.

“We just established tha’ ye weren't even allowed tae be a fuckin’ contender. It's no’ mah fault Ghost 's a shit listener.” Soap complained as he picked up his plate, sullenly pushing away from the table and bringing his dishware to the stove in order to refill it, the aggressive way he was moving telling you all you needed to know about how he was taking the loss.

“You're just mad cause he didn't pick you.” You needled at him just to be an ass, sticking your tongue out at the Scot when he flicked you off without even bothering to turn away from the pot he was digging into with the pasta spoon.

“Don’t let it go to your head.” Price told you in a mock serious tone, his mustache twitching in a way that signaled that he was trying to suppress a smile before he continued. “Don’t want you getting an ego so large that it takes two helicopters to carry it.”

"Are you kidding me!? Captain, look at him!" You spluttered incredulously, flailing an arm at Ghost, who looked utterly unbothered by the chaos that his answer had stirred. "You expect my ego not to go through the roof when a big, scary, skull-obsessed tank says that I'm his favorite teammate? I’m practically untouchable."

“So much for maintaining a sense of humility.” Gaz muttered under his breath with an exasperated shake of his head.

“Don’t get too excited. You’re still insufferable, you’re just less annoying than the others.” Ghost stated before you could reply to Gaz’s comment, causing you to shut your mouth with a click as you contemplated whether or not you were going to take offense to Ghost’s apathetic correction.

"I'll take it." You said with a decisive nod, giving Soap's arm an affectionate pat when he passed by, the Scot knocking his foot into yours under the table when he sat down to let you know that there was no bad blood between the two of you and you looked down at your wrist in order to check the time on your watch on a whim, your eyes widening when you saw how late it was.

"Ah, shit. I gotta go train the new recruits on gun safety at the range." You blurted as you rounded the table, heading for the exit to the dining room and kitchen before you paused and looked back at the four men who were seated at the table in a beseeching manner.

"Could one of you guys put whatever's leftover into the fridge when you boys are done eating?" You asked, your expression hopeful as you stared at them, waiting for one of them to volunteer themselves for the task.

“Yeah. I can do it.” Price replied with a quick nod before grabbing his empty plate and pushing to his feet. He moved to the kitchen and grabbed one of the serving bowls, a small smile on his face. It was a small task, but Price seemed perfectly content with doing it.

"I really appreciate it, Price. I'll cook you a nice breakfast tomorrow as a thank you!" You promised as you walked out of the kitchen and into the hallway, giving the four men one last parting wave before starting down the corridor.

"Alright. Who's washing the dishes?" He quipped dryly as he looked at the other three that were still in the room with him and, unsurprisingly, no one seemed particularly enthusiastic about the prospect.

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xandriagreat · 11 months

Text

Modern Nimona

Chapter 2: Nimona meets Blackheart

First chapter | Last chapter | Next chapter

Notice/warnings: rain, death (mention), runaway, thunderstorms

Author’s note: a big thanks to the co-writer @vanessafangirl13

▪▪▪

10 years later… June 15th, 2023.

"Today marks the 10th year since the death of Mayor Valerin Boldheart," a news reporter said on the screen, “and the hunt for Ballister Blackheart is still going on.”

While the news was still going on, a 15-year-old teen walked over to look at the screen.

The teen had pink red hair, red side bangs, with a shaved head in the back, pink eyes, and pale skin. She wears only dark pink sweatpants and a light magenta hoodie to hide, with her red backpack on her back and headphones on.

“This man has no place in this city. This man is vile, a murderer, a monster.” the new reporter said with a warning to any viewer watching.

“He’s perfect.” the teen said as she grinds a sharp smile.

"HEY!" A voice was heard which turned out to be the police.

The teen looked at them and then ran off laughing like it’s a game of tag.

The police dogs were already chasing after the teen but the teen was smart enough to know the way out of the cops

The teen jumped over a wired fence out of the city but not near the city wall.

The teen began to get away to the farthest tree until the coast was clear. When the cops investigated the main officer screamed in anger.

"Not again!" The officer said, angrily in defeat "That kid outnumbered us again!"

“We still don’t know how the kid does it.” a nearby rookie said.

Just then a thunder sound came by the wall. The officers looked at the wall before walking away scared.

☆

In a small tiny house in the middle of the woods

Meredith had her hair cut into a shoulder length hairdo, wearing a blue sweater, white jeans and a lab coat. She tested her test tubes while her friend, who now has a full on mustache and goatee, was fixing his new prosthetic arm that he made.

The news was playing in the background.

"Ugh, 10 years.” Meredith said, looking at Ballister. “I still can’t believe it was this long.”

Ballister was quiet as he finished fixing his black prosthetic arm. He was wearing a black shirt and black jeans.

Then it goes to the weather report, which got both Meredith and Ballister’s attention.

It began to show the weekly weather and it's going to rain for half a week.

"Looks like rain again." Meredith said, looking at Ballister.

Ballister nodded as he got his arm on, testing it to see if it works. His arm worked as it moved.

"Hope it works on the human nervous system." Meredith said as Ballister picked up a bottle.

“It does.” Ballister replied as he placed it back down.

But then suddenly they heard a huge thunderstorm, turning off the lights in the process

"I'll get the candles and flashlights" Meredith said who was about to get the candles and flashlights but then they heard the door open.

Meredith grabbed a scalpel while Ballister grabbed a broken bottle as they slowly went to the door, seeing what entered their home.

When they got to the door, they saw it empty, nothing but rain pouring down. Ballister hummed and closed the door, locking it.

"That was weird." Meredith said, looking at Ballister.

“Hey, boss.” a voice said behind them.

Both jumped and turned around to see a teen girl in their home.

'H-how Did you get in?" Meredith asked, placing the scalpel down pointing at the door and then at the teen. "You know you are trespassing on private property."

“And who’s property would that be?” the teen asked and began to look around the home. “This is a nice evil lair here.”

“What?” Meredith and Ballister asked at the same time.

"You mean straight from a comic book?" Meredith asked, knowing her knowledge of comic books.

The teen got a flamethrower on. “Oh nice!”

“Hey, put that down!” Ballister exclaimed, getting the flamethrower away from the teen.

This only made the teen go to another dangerous item as both Bal and Meredith tried to stop the teen from causing any more mayhem or making a mess of their home.

“Careful! Our weapons are dangerous for children!!" Meredith said, putting a weapon away.

“How old do you two think I am?” the teen asked, looking at them.

Ballister shrugged and guessed, “I don’t know, like ten?"

"13 to 15?" Meredith guessed as well.

The teen pointed at Meredith. “Ding ding! We have a winner!” the teen exclaimed with a chuckle.

Meredith smiled a bit while Ballister rolled his eyes. “Ok, kid. You’re a young teen, we get that.” Ballister said as he walked over to the teen. “But why are you here?”

"Yeah. You know we might have to call the police or take you to the station to report you." Meredith said, reaching for the phone.

“We can’t, Meredith.” Ballister said, looking at his friend. “I’m the most wanted right now. If we call the police, not only she is getting arrested but also me.”

"Right…" Meredith said, putting the phone away, but she knew she can't let this teen be alone.

The teen smiled at them. “Well, thank you for not calling the cops.”

"But we cannot let you be running off alone without a parent or guardian." Meredith said." I do install every type of security in this house."

“Oh, to answer why I’m here is that I’m actually here for a job.” the teen answered.

"What do you mean?" Meredith asked "Should you be in school? Your education is important, you know, It can get you ahead in life."

“I don’t go to school.” the teen answered, her arms crossed.

"Are you homeless and homeschooled? I have books in my library if you want to read, but Don't mess anything up with the books" Meredith said, showing her bookshelf filled with books.

“Could we stop talking about school stuff?” the teen asked, sounding annoyed.

"Alright then." Meredith said, popping her lips.

Then the teen looked at Ballister and walked over to him. “I’m here to be his sidekick." she said, pulling Ballister into a side hug.

Ballister gave an uncomfortable look to the teen, not wanting to be touched.

"You mean assistant?" Meredith asked, crossing her arms, knowing there's a difference between assistant and sidekick.

The teen rolled her eyes as she let go of Ballister and said, “No, sidekick. To help him with the evil plans.”

"What?!" Both said at the same time.

The teen looked at both of them. “You two look shocked by this.” she said before something caught her eye. “Oh, what’s that?”

Meredith and Ballister followed the teen. "Do you at least have some resumé?" Meredith asked after the teen. " It’s important if you want to get hired by someone."

“Uh, yeah!” the teen answered, then shoved some papers to Ballister before looking at the thing that caught her eye.

Ballister held the paper that had very disturbing drawings. Meredith was shocked but memorized by the teen's drawings.

"That's a lot of blood." Meredith and Ballister said, looking at the teen.

“You like them?” the teen asked, looking at the grownups.

Meredith and Bal looked at each other before looking at the teen, who was looking at the wall of suspects.

“Oh! Are these your next victims?” the teen asked excitedly. "No, It's not!" Meredith and Ballister answered in unison.

“It’s a suspect wall.” Ballister explained as he walked over. "And completely organized." Meredith added, sounding proud.

The teen’s excited look changed to a confused look. “Wait… are you saying that you’re not a murder?”

“Yes!” Ballister yelled, still holding the broken bottle. He looked at it and then tossed it to the side before looking back at the confused teen.

“But… the news says that you are-”

"HE'S NOT!" Meredith yelled. "I was there when it happened!"

The teen stared at the two grownups before noticed Meredith's lab and went to it, touching everything. "Hey! That's my lab!" Meredith said, chasing the teen as the teen began touching and looking everywhere in the lab.

Ballister grabbed the teen by her hood and put her down in a seat. “Alright!” he said angrily, looking down at her. “If you want to be a sidekick so badly, then could you help me clear my name? If you do, you can be my sidekick.”

The teen’s eyes sparkled and asked excitedly, “You mean it?”

Ballister sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Yes…” he said flatly as he looked at the teen.

"Ok, what's your deal?" Meredith asked, her arms crossed, looking suspicious at the teen. "What's your name and gender pronouns?"

“I’m Nimona.” the teen said, getting up and bowing to Meredith and Ballister. “I use she/her but I use any pronouns.”

"Ok, Nimona." Meredith and Ballister said together, looking down at Nimona, who was smiling big at them.

#nimona #nimona fic #ballister boldheart #ballister blackheart #meredith blitzmeyer #Modern Nimona #Modern Nimona au #nimona au

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vinegar-on-main · 4 months

Note

VINNY!!!!!!!! YOU ARE NOW ELIGIBLE FOR 1 OF MY 3 SACRED STONE INBOX FICS!!!!!! you will become eligible for the other two once you beat chapter 11!!!!! this fic was inspired from how i just spent a comical amount of time grinding in the tower of valni and decided to make some slight eirika angst out of it :3

Leap back. Raise arm. Thrust. This motion was practically second nature to Eirika now. Monster after monster fell to her blade, almost like clockwork. Move out of the way quick once they throw their arms back. Counter while they recover.

This was their… well, she had lost count at this point. It was one of their visits to the Tower of Valni. Her and her comrades had made numerous visits to this foul place in order to make sure they were properly prepared for their journey, as the seemingly endless horde of monsters that flooded this tower’s floors made excellent target practice. After everything she’d gone through so far, she didn't expect anything to go her way or according to any sort of plan anymore. Before they headed out for Port Kiris and whatever awaited them in Rausten, she wanted to be ready.

She had to be strong. She needed to. So many people were relying on her. Looking up to her. People who would die if she made a single incorrect choice. She had to make sure nothing like what happened in Renais would ever happen again. She had to protect those she cares about. So it didn’t matter how much her arm hurt. It didn’t matter how her legs ached. It didn’t matter how the endless attacks of claws and spears got closer and closer to hitting her each time she dodged them. She had to keep going. She had t-

“Eirika?” Eirika nearly jumped out of her skin as she swiveled around to face whoever was speaking to her, seeing none I thee than a certain blue-haired pegasus knight giving her a concerned look. “T-Tana!” Eirika quickly stuttered out. “Yes? Can- can I help… you?” “We were… waiting for your word. We took care of all the monsters, but you looked… out of it.” Tana explained.

Right. Right, they had cleared out this floor. Her memory was getting a little… fuzzy. It was mostly just a blur of dodging and fighting. She was fine, though.

“Are you… doing okay, Eiri? You’ve been acting a little off for a few days now. Is something wrong?” Tana questioned.

“I’m fine.” Eirika mumbled, with a quavering voice of someone who was definitively not fine. Tana knitted her brow slightly. “If you say it like that, I’m not going to believe you.” “I… I’ll be fine. You don’t need to worry about me.” Eirika stared, hoping to move on from this conversation.

“You’re pushing yourself again, aren’t you?” Drat. Tara did always have an uncanny sense of telling when something was bothering her.

Eirika simply averted her eyes and stood there in silence for a few seconds, hoping that Tana would just… give up, and go do absolutely anything else. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the kind of person Tana was. Eirika let out a shaky sigh “It’s… been a lot, these past few days. I… I want to make sure we’re ready. I want to be ready. But… I would be lying if I said this was not… taking its toll. But I need t-"

Eirika paused as Tana laid a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

“Listen, Eirika. I understand this is a lot. No one said war was easy. But you don’t have to do everything yourself. You can rely on us. You aren’t alone, alright? We’re all here to help you, and you need to know that, okay?” Eirika nodded.

Tana let out a satisfied huff. “Okay. I worry about you sometimes, so just… take care of yourself, alright?” Tana shot Eirika a playful wink. “Besides, you won’t be much help on the battlefield if you run yourself ragged, right?” Eirika cracked a small smile for what felt like the first time in days.

“Hehe… right. I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you, Tana.” Tana gave her a quick nod as she headed back to the main group to tell them of their next destination. Eirika finally took a moment to catch her breath, only now noticing how tired she was. Maybe they could call it a day early today. She probably wasn’t the only one who needed a break, and they needed to be prepared for their journey to Rausten tomorrow. A journey they would all walk down together.

BEANNN THANK YOU FOR SENDING ME THIS AUGHHHHH I LOVE THEM THEYRE SO

#asks #inbox fic #fire emblem #fe8 #fire emblem sacred stones #sacred stones #Fe Erikia #FE Tana

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secret-diary-of-an-fa · 10 months

Text

A Long, Unnecessary Love Letter to Comic Books

I’ve gotten way the fuck into comics lately, ranging from weird titles from publishers I’m pretty sure are defunct (Solar, Man of the Atom follows the ongoing adventures of an energy being whose origin story includes accidentally destroying his own timeline) to unsettling little horror tales (Gaiman’s Likely Stories disturbed me to the point of feeling physically ill once or twice) to big, bombastic superhero fair (just give me anything with Batman). It’s particularly this last category that I want to focus on, because it was while reading the 2018-onwards run of Justice League that I realised why I’ve been getting so into comics at the moment. They’re currently filling the niche that film used to fill.

You see, folks, I have a little problem when I go and see most films nowadays. The problem is very simple. While I still enjoy movies, that enjoyment is somewhat marred by the fact that NINETY PERCENT OF THE TIME I KNOW EXACTLY WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING TO HAPPEN! I’m a progressive chap- I’m a commie, a sometime-advocate for fat acceptance (obvs) and I’m viscerally disgusted every time I hear about some fresh injustice perpetrated against non-white ethnic groups by the racist-as-shit American legal system. I’d never call myself a feminist, but I accept that feminism has a point in terms of its broad complaints and aims (I part company from both rad and third wave on a fair number of specifics, but that’s probably just because of my nine foot musical penis). And yet, as most of you already know from my previous spates of bitching and moaning, media wokeness winds me up. It’s not just that it’s obviously insincere and designed to curry favour with an imaginary demographic of humourless wankers- it’s that it also hobbles any story’s ability to surprise or engage meaningfully with its own fictional universe. Give me a list of characters and tell me nothing about them besides skin colour, age and gender, and I’ll tell you who’s going to live, who’s going to die, who’ll be permitted a redemption arc, and who’ll turn out to be a ‘twist’ villain (and I use the term ‘twist’ with heavy-duty sarcasm marks). It’s cloying, constrictive and a death sentence for any kind of creativity. It’s gotten so bad that, whenever a movie does manage to pleasantly surprise me, I have to fight back tears of fucking gratitude. Progressive values are all well and good- I actively subscribe to them myself every time I go out and assassinate a member of the fucking Tory party- but modern movies and telly don’t operate from a place of deeply-held progressive values (or any values). The mainstream media’s ‘wokeness’ is just a tired list of boring tropes that cowardly, talentless screenwriters cling to lest creating something original engender cancellation.

And so, we come to comic books (and on comic books, if they have General Zod in them. Kneel before Zod? I certainly fucking will!). I was about type the words ‘even mainstream comic books are great’ but then I started laughing like the Joker watching a snuff movie, because that would have been an idiotic sentence. You see, while Superhero comics are ‘mainstream’ in the sense that they’re the thing people most associate with the medium, they still have a relatively tiny readership. In fact, I suspect that requiring their audience to know how to read is the main barrier to entry nowadays- it seems like something of a lost art.

The point is that I’ve been reading the ‘Justice/Doom War’ arc in Justice League and I’ve noticed something about it. It has a huge, diverse cast of characters from different ethnic and socioeconomic backgrounds, different genders and different belief systems and walks of life… and not even one of them is an insufferable twat defined only by their relative privilege or oppression! To give you an example, Green Lantern John Stewart is a heroic space cop who happens to be black, but the plot never grinds to a halt so he can give us a lecture on race dynamics in modern America. He’s too busy using constructs of solid light to smash the ever-loving crap out of pan-dimensional cosmic monsters. When the plot does slow down to give him time to breathe, we learn more about his conflicted yet complementary history as both a soldier and an architect than we do about his skin colour. I mean, it’s not like it never comes up- the DC universe has some ties to reality and characters do occasionally find themselves on the receiving end of racism, but if it’s not relevant to what’s happening, the story doesn’t bend over backwards to include it. Conversely, Batman is a rich white dude, but the story never feels the need to ‘hold him accountable’. His main arc at the moment is about learning to be a good father figure to a sentient, telepathic starfish who wants to be the next Robin (yeah… the 2018 run is gloriously fucking weird). Hey! Here’s another example! On the surface, Hawkgirl is the epitome of the ‘strong female character’ beloved by modern media: a ferocious, take-no-shit warrior woman with countless lifetimes of carefully-honed experience. But she’s not some bloody sexless, characterless archetype designed as a flag for empowerment rather than a person: she’s a fully-developed character. She has complex internal motivations; she has romantic feelings for Martian Manhunter; she experiences grief and loss and is changed by them; she makes mistakes that she then has to triumph over. She doesn’t get to win just because she’s the first person on hand with a clitoris- she actually has to work and go through a character arc. Surprising and sometimes unpleasant things happen to her, making her a sympathetic and interesting character who I actually want to see triumph.

I could go on… and on… and on… and on… pretty much forever. I could probably write an entire essay just on how Lex Luthor uses his wealth for selfish ends even while purporting to represent a higher cause while Batman embodies an idealised version of how those with power and money should use it for the greater good. I could talk about how Superman is both effectively an immigrant and the most endearingly Rockwellian slice of walking Americana one can imagine. I could write fucking books on what the character of Perpetua says about the modern world’s complex relationship with faith and fanaticism and where the line is drawn.

But the real point is that I don’t know what’s going to happen next! Character who would never be allowed to triumph under their own power in movies succeed. Characters who would never be allowed to fail in movies get broken by horrible events and circumstances. Arcs are never what I expect them to be about, but always make sense when I look back and consider what I know about the character’s personality. It’s wonderfully refreshing in a way we just don’t get to see much nowadays… and I started to wonder why comics are so much better than everything else going on at the moment.

I was recently reading an Editorial in Metal Hurlant (basically the French 2000AD- a comic anthology of sci-fi and horror tales published on a monthly basis). The top brass were bemoaning the niche-ness of the comic book medium, asserting that comics should be promoted in bookstores and literary circles; that there should be a widespread push for them to reach a readership and audience that traditionally don’t engage with pulp culture (my term, not theirs). And what I realised is that this would be a terrible, terrible idea- because the main reason comics are so good is because they’re niche; their small; their disposable. Consider, if you will, the mainstream film industry. A big part of the reason that it mainly produces hot garbage is that it’s too big to take risks. Hollywood (for want of a better catch-all term) has spent its entire life-cycle pursuing larger and larger audiences so it can fund more and more epic blockbusters with bigger names and bigger, bolder FX. It’s a cycle of abuse in which each new generation of films has to outperform the generation before it. Meanwhile, because the audiences have to be so vast, the people making the flicks don’t think of those audiences as individual people with specific interests and ideas and a desire to be challenged and entertained. They think of them, instead, as demographic swathes; undifferentiated and united by broad, base commonalities that each project has to play to. But people aren’t demographics and the movie industry is currently getting a royal drubbing for its decades of ever-increasing contempt-of-the-viwer. Disney in particular is haemorrhaging money because it thought it would be a good idea to make Star Wars and Indiana Jones films and telly shows for a generic set of imagined demographics instead of people who actually like those franchises and are interested in the themes and ideas that go with them. As much as watching Disney fail gives me the warm fuzzies, I have to ask: who in their right mind would wish this fate on comics?

You see, folks, comics do sell plenty of copies- more than enough to justify the fairly modest expense of printing the darned things) but the overall audience for any one title is less than half the audience for any given major film release (I did some research and applied some maths that I won’t bore you with, but the absolute top selling comic books of recent years sold under a quarter million copies overall while an average film from any of the major studios sells around half a million cinema tickets in the US alone- and then there are the DVD and streaming sales on top of that. Notice how the latter number is more than double the former number. Regrettably, data on both films and comics is jealously guarded by vested interests, so I apologise for how ballpark those figures are, mind). Meanwhile the total audience of comics in general is much narrower in certain key respects. Perhaps the most obvious point is this: pretty much everyone who reads comic books is a comic book fan, whereas not everyone who goes to the cinema is a cinephile. But what does that actually mean? Well, for one, it means that comic book readers and writers are more of community- they tend to trust one another more; leaps can be taken that would be considered too chancy when dealing with ‘demographics’. At the same time, however, the writers’ connection to the fans means they have a better sense of when something is going to alienate large sections of their audience or piss people off (something film-makers have proved either bad at or wilfully blind to lately). The result is stories that know what bold ideas they can pursue while also knowing where to draw the line.

I think another reason comics are currently kicking the film industry’s pallid white buttocks in terms of creative merit is that they’re real cheap. Paper on ink is much easier to organise and send forth into the world than a vast audiovisual experience containing hundreds of actors, countless FX and goodness-knows-how-many extras, all put together by an enormous team of people who often never get to meet one another. If I wanted, I could probably write, draw and distribute a limited run of say, fifty comics, for the price of a Payday Loan. I wouldn’t, because it’s not where my talent lies, but the point I’m trying to make is this: companies and distributors are more willing to do interesting things when there’s only pocket change on the line compared to when there’s millions or billions of dollars. It’s why we get comics like Serial Artist (about a dude who claims his paintings are of his murder victims and becomes the centre of a vast government conspiracy) and W0rldtr33 (an ongoing slice of weirdness in which the internet comes to life and starts murdering people). It’s why something comparatively mainstream like Justice League can have an arc about Batman parenting a starfish and why the whole thing becomes Dark Nights: Metal and Death Metal for awhile (the Metal comics are end-of-the-world stuff inspired by- obvs- heavy metal albums… and they’re fucking great). It’s why stuff like Metal Hurlant and 2000AD is given a chance to find readers. So do comics need to be bigger and more widely accepted? Fuck no! The fringe is always where interesting stuff happens and aiming for mainstream acceptability is, it seems to me, a massive trap. The allure of more money and better social status is like one of the bug-zapper lights that draws in the moths and then fries their brains.

But what the fuck is the point of all this rambling? Comics are good- and thank goodness, since a lot of shit isn’t at the moment. There, I got it all down to once sentence, so what was the point of the rest? Well, I suppose there’s a lesson to be learned here. I’m a writer finally starting my career; finally putting work out into the public domain with a real publisher. No, I don’t do comics: I do sci-fi and fantasy books. But the lesson’s still applicable and it’s this: it’s a lot better to be good than popular and sometimes- just sometimes- you really do have to pick between the two.

#Secret Diary of a Fat Admirer #comic books #comics #graphic novels #Justice League #Metal Hurlant #Dark Nights: Metal

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pufferfishdude · 1 year

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The Amazing Spiez: Season 1, Episode 22 Part 3

As the Super Soaker Supersizer’s reverse beam hits Megan, the super swollen spy’s body has become so engorged that she’s rolling along through the area with no signs to stopping.

This whole gives a strong clear presentation of Megan as she moves along in her near-bursting level of girth. The legs look stocky, being so big and bulky yet totally useless in grinding her to a halt. The belt continues to stay on while the skirt’s crease lines are stretched out further. Her plumped arms are forced upwards, they and her fat round face sticking out on top like a massive prop.

The roll forward shows her lower half (Pic 1), her gigantic belly (Pic 2), straight up (Pic 3), leaning forward (Pic 4), on her belly (Pic 5), downwards (Pic 6) and upside down (Pic 7).

The reverse beam hits Megan at Pic 6, actually stopping the large lass in her tracks. A great little detail is that it’s not just a sudden pause in the animation, but a little rock and lean back as she’s stuck positioned upright, causing Megan to give a look of surprise and stare down at her body (Pics 8-10). From this, she starts to shrink down further and further, and the thing that strikes me intrigued is that there’s not deflation of the body itself, just growing smaller but never reducing in shape. (Pics 11-13)

Following this shot, we see Megan tumbling forward onto the ground, now totally back to normal in shape and size (Pic 12), her brothers glad that she’s no longer “freakishly large”. (Pic 13) The wrap-up of Megan’s subplot has her accept her size after her huge experience and wishing to find the boy she likes to notices her some other way...only to discover he’s into girls shorter than him, and so she plans to see if there are any gadgets to make her smaller.

The subplot of the episode did bring to mind the Totally Spies episode ‘Passion Patties, which I covered before.

Both female on a female spy concerned about their size regarding a singular thing of interest (a too-big hat; a boy the spy is into). The main plot concerns a villain using size-changing items for their goal (fat-inducing cookies; a size-enlarging gadget). The villain gets defeated by their own objective (becoming fat and addicted; beaten by a giant spy) the spy growing larger (fat; giant with inflation) and ultimately accepting their situation. A rapid heavy-body expansion occurs in the end as well (villain; female spy).

Of course, in Totally Spies, the expansion was throughout, while in Amazing Spies, the expansion was in the climax with an added problem at the resolution for a moment of comic relief, both allowing for the arc of the episodes to reach to their natural end and lesson.

#amazingspiez #female expansion #Air Inflation #roll #giant #deflation #body inflation #television show #cartoon

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bonesbuckleup · 1 year

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1, 4, 24, and 39 BECAUSE I'M GREEDY ❤️

1. What font do you write in? Do you actually care or is that just the default setting?

Write in Times New Roman and revise/rewrite in TNR because that's what 2 English degrees and an MFA do to your brain. And then I line edit...in comic sans. No, no, listen, wait, just hear me out. Using a ridiculous font helps to find the typos faster. I don't know why comic sans is best but it is.

4. What’s a word that makes you go absolutely feral?

Oooooh...I like sharp. I like feathered. I like ruin. But most of all I like any word that's used in a weird and unexpected way in a sentence.

24. How much prep work do you put into your stories? What does that look like for you? Do you enjoy this part or do you just want to get on with it?

So I think it's George RR Martin who puts writers on a scale from gardeners to architects. Gardeners kind of plant and see what grows and prunes/shapes/trims what shows up, then architects plan everything down to the lightbulb before starting to build. I'm down on the gardener end for prep, but not at the far end. A landscaper, if you will.

ANYWAY. I like to have big moments kind of in my head--the main characters, an inciting incident, a vague concept of a middle, an end. These can move and change as I write, but they work as targets as I find my way through. Outlines tend to fall apart fast when I make them as a planning tool. (I will say, though, for big rewrites or revisions, outlines literally save my life.)

39. What keeps you writing when you feel like giving up?

I don't know if I have an answer for this, really, except that it's super important to recognize why you're wanting to give up. For me, it's generally one of two reasons: I'm either about to have a break through on a new skill, story problem, character arc, etc, or I need a break.

Because, like, look. The grind and churning out of material is important. It's good to learn how to write as a habit/job versus just when motivation strikes. If it's a break through "things are getting hard right now so I want to quit" kind of giving up, that's worth pushing through.

But also...writing doesn't always happen on a schedule. Sometimes your brain is working really, really hard in the background--about a writing thing, about a life thing, about anything at all--and it doesn't have the bandwidth to put words down on a page. You just need to take a break, and you need to trust the words are going to come back when they're ready to come back. I think the longest span I ever had was, like, 8-9 months in 2020/2021 where I literally could not write a word. No fic, no original stuff, nothing. I really thought I was done. But I wasn't, and the words came back. My writing brain just needed to compost for a bit before it could grow anything new.

#batmoniker #mail #pandering for asks #weird writing questions meme #writing

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rpking99 · 11 months

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"Mmm~! Oh Kara, you're so beautiful." Power Girl purred as she took in the Supergirl's beauty, licking her lips as she ran her eyes across the other blonde's lovely frame "I know you're my alternate universe counterpart, but holy fuck you are just so cute and sexy. Oh god, I just want to kiss you. Run my hands through your long blonde hair, bold your thin waist, slip under your tiny red skirt and-oooooh~!"

"I know Karen, I know." Supergirl panted as she looked up and down the woman who was basically her older twins "Your breasts are so big and perfect, your ass is so perfect and your muscular abs and arms and thighs... Fuck~! I know it's probably just the Pink Kryptonite, but I want you. I want you so bad~!"

"Me to, Kara. Me to. Kiss me, kiss me please~" Power Girl moaned, slowly leaning forwards to kiss her

"Oh Karen~" Supergirl moaned back, leaning her head forwards. Drawing her lips closet

"Kara~"

"Karen~"

"Kara~"

"Karen~"

"The fuck is Pink Kryptonite?!" A random voice cried out from the silence

Screeeech~

.....

"What?" They both asked as they looked at the readers

"What's Pink Kryptonite?!" The voice asked again

"Isn't Kryptonite posion?! Doesn't it hurt?!" Another asked

"Why do you always have Supergirl wearing black, writer?!" A third asked

"Alright! Enough!" Supergirl yelled out, using super breath to blow the audience back "Okay. So we have been getting this question ever since the blog started RP-ing."

"And even before then, honestly." Power Girl commented, crossing her arms under her large bouncy breasts "So.... Well. It's time, isn't it?"

"Yes. It's time." Supergirl nodded as they turned to the readers, a large suitcase opening

"Kryptonite Break Down time!" They called together

"Now. This won't be super in-depth." Kara explained "We won't be going into EVERY version of the radioactive rock, what they do in EVERY continuity, and so on. Just the big, main ones."

"Also, won't be going a lot into their origins or anything like that." Karen hummed, shaking her head "That's for your own searches."

"So... First one! Let's go!" Supergirl cheered

....

And instantly fell face first into the floor, groaning. "F-First is G-Green K-Kryptonite..." She mumbled out

"Green K is the most classic and common strands, and the version you all definatly know." Power Girl commented as she picked it up "All Kryptonite is from the same place. It's in the name, Krypton." The bigger breasted heroine threw the rock up and down in the air calmly, casually "It is chunks of the planet, affected and altered by different radiation. Mutating it's properties for when it arrives within Earth's atmosphere."

"It-It's poisonous and weakens Kryptonains." Kara grumbled in pain "I-Green K does, at least. It's radiation is like nuclear radiation for humans, in a way. It-it makes us weak, sick, it hurts, makes us unable to use our power and can... Can kill us."

"Of course, Multiverse is a thing." Karen commented "Different universes, different Kryptons and different Earth's. It's why I am uneffected by Green K, well this Green K. Minute differences in atmosphere and what not. You'd need Greek K from Earth-2 to effect me."

"I-put it away! Please!" Kara groaned

"Right, right, sorry." Power Girl nodded, dropping the Green K into a lead lined box and closing it "Technically any Kryponite that effects me should be from Earth-2, but the comics are not really constant with that."

"An interesting fact about this one is tied into Earth-3, where Kryptonian's such as UltraMan snort it as a drug." Supergirl explained "In this world, morality is inverted and Green K also does not hurt them. But UltraMan, the inverted version of Superman, grinds up and snorts it to get high and increase his powers. Which implies something.... interesting for later. Okay, Power Girl. What's next?"

"Red K." Power Girl smiled as she pulled out the next rock, a shimmering red glowing filling the air

"Oh great!" Kara mumbled as her hair suddenly turned from blonde to brown "Red K.... It is a wild card. This type of Kryptonite? It produces wild mutations. Changing hair colour, body size. In silver age comics it went as far as turning Superman into a humanoid ant and so on."

"The only exception for this strange Kryptonite is Smallville. In this TV show it heightened a Kryptonian's agression and negative impulses." Power Girl added calmly, shaking her head

"Red K isn't poisonous. But it's effects are random and potentially dangerous in their own way." Kara commented as she reached into another box "Next we have..."

"Blue Kryptonite." Supergirl commented as she held up a glowing blue stone

....

When nothing happened, Karen leaned forwards and tapped the rock a few times "Is it broken?" she asked

"No, it is." Kara chuckled "Blue K does nothing to Earth-1 Kryptonian's... Technically. It has the same effect Green K does on us to people of Bizzaro world, however. Mainly Bizarro himself and Bizarro-Supergirl. As well.... As UltraMan from Earth-3."

"Really?!" Power Girl asked in surprise "The guy who snorts Green K as a drug is hurt by Blue K... Does that mean you could snort Blue K like he does Green and get the same effect?"

"Potentially." Supergirl nodded "Not like I'm gonna do it, though. We should probably put these away."

"Right, our next one is possible the most dangerous one yet." Karen agreed. The two quickly put the stones away before they hid inside a led lined bunker "Because next we have...."

"Gold Kryptonite." They said together as the golden gem was rolled out into the performance hall

"This... It is definitely one all Kryptonian's fear. If they know what it does." Kara commented as she looked through the window of their lead lined shield

"Gold K... It removed a Kryptonian's powers. Perminantly." Karen said simply with a little, nervous, mumbled "All they say in the comics is that it... Well, it does."

"But the writer of the blog has a fan theory that is rather simple." Kara added "That Gold K basically damages a Kryptonian's cells like Green K does. But we don't feel it. No, instead it just breaks down the cells ability to process sunlight to give us our powers."

"Small exposure isn't too bad." Power Girl sighed "But even a small exposure will perminantly weaken your powers. Imagine being able to run a mile an hour, and now you're only doing 90% of that mile an hour. It's not a lot, but it's noticeable."

"And it stacks. Able to perminantly loose your powers, even." Supergirl finished "Can, can we get that gone now please?"

The Gold K is wheeled out of the room

"Thank you." The younger of the two sighed as the lead lined bunker was lowered, the pair of blondes walking out "Hey, what's next?" Kara asked the older blonde

"Well, we've covered four. The next one definatly should be the last." Power Girl hummed "We only have so long and so many pictures, so we may have to do a part two to cover some more-oooh~!"

"Karen?! What's-ahhhh~!" Supergirl asked, only to meet the same fate

The two letting out deep noises of boarderline pleasure as their bodies suffered, their eyes darkening a bit as a black gem stood on the table behind them

"Black.... Black Kryptonite." Supergirl panted as she looked down at the gem with a smirk "Bout time we got to this beauty, I missed being so free~!"

"This fees so good~!" Power Girl sighed as she ran her hands over her body for a moment "No wonder you enjoy being like this~!"

"Yeah." Supergirl giggled with a grin "Now. How about a change of cloths?"

"Of course." Power Girl grinned "After all.... We need to match our clothing with our outlook. Rules of comics, after all."

"Of course." Kara nodded, the two quickly flying off... And soon returning

The Kryptonian babes soon returned wearing all black, leather/latex kinky versions of their outfits

"Ahh~, feels better~" Power Girl purred "Mm~, so much better~! So sexy and confident and as naughty as I wanna be! No need to hold back how I wanna be!"

"Oh, yeah. The guys watching." Supergirl laughed, both women sounding much sexier "Black K... It freezes Kryptonian's from themselves. Removed their inhabutions. Their doubts, their feet of society and so much more. We act out our emotions, we are free without restraint~!"

"Smallville, and some versions in the comics, portray this as 'good and evil' and splits them in half." Power Girl explained "Normally for the two to fight each other. But again, it's just us being free~! To do as we feel~!"

"Speaking of feel~" Kara purred as she suddenly hugged Power Girl, grabbing her boobs

"Oooh~! Supergirl~!" Powergirl moaned

"Later bozos!" Supergirl laughed before pulling Power Girl into a deep kiss. Both moaning into each others lips as the curtain closed down in front of them

Keep Your Eyes Open For Part 2! Will Be Linked When Posted!

And here is the link for Part 2, all done! Hope you enjoy!

#muse questions #muse answers #comic lore #nerd talks

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thedarkfiddler · 2 years

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Encounters leading into Blackthorn.

Cirno for the Touhou, and it's very tempting to train her up for Clair but grinding is starting to get VERY tedious. This is the part of runs where laziness starts to make you make mistakes.

Rachel for Animorphs, because one of her favorite battle morphs was the elephant. Donphan is so cool, I wish it were a better Pokémon.

Cravel evolves, which is pretty cool!

This guy is acting like Lance and I when on a hot date and he invited me back to my place or something.

Puffpuff's Ice Punch was my main plan for the Dragonairs, but her damage was only good enough to take down two of them. Pinkie needed to come in and clean up, and the water typing was very helpful to resist Kingdra's attacks.

God, this moment was SO hype way back in the day.

Two encounters leading up to the league.

Clarise is a really roundabout reference to that old "be strong for mother, Clarence" comic.

Gesundheit is Cravel's SURNAME but given she's usually headcanoned as a giant snake of stone, Onix was a more fitting Pokémon anyway.

Before the League, here's my team and my boxed options. I picked up a few, last minute encounters (basically that whole bottom row).

Nothing would really make a good replacement in the moment, but Logan is kind of struggling. Only having Strength and Return means his decent Attack stat doesn't get a lot of use, and no Toxic makes him bad at stall. There's a few other team members who fill the Physical tank role, too.

Ah, well. Gonna finish grinding and tackle the Indigo League... some day! No school on Veteran's Day, so maybe we tackle the league on Friday? Time is running out, @rosesrambling! (Please continue to read this comment as an anime rival (but also are we going until Red? I think I'm going for Red even if we aren't))

#crystal 2k22

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system-of-a-feather · 2 years

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Do you have any projects your working on right now? If so wouldnt say no to a ramble about them (love watching artists/other writers talk about their passion projects)

Do I have any projects I am working on right now?

Overall I technically have one REALLY huge project going which is the said story I eventually will need to turn into a comic / webtoon when my skills are consistent and high enough. That one I've technically been working on with my writing partner for a decade about and honestly the passion and dedication the both of us have to said story has really saved both of our lives on more than one occasion if I'm honest cause it was the primary coping / processing mechanism for two teens surviving abusive households that ended up in two people with DID (well technically he hasn't been diagnosed and he likes to ignore it until it becomes an issue TM but I knew he had DID before I knew I had DID)

But like, writing wise, we've been writing it in RP format for about a decade. We had some off years while we were sorting out our friendship and figuring out how to have boundaries in the earlier portion, but we've really got a grasp on the overall story and are currently writing the prequel before we REWRITE the original story we started with when we were 12. Somewhere around the time of rewriting that story I'll probably start properly paneling and story boarding out the comic as we go, but until then I'm on the art grind.

Neither of us are in a particular rush to put the story out there though, cause the world is already really massive and we are still learning / figuring things out about it and the characters in it, and strongly do value letting it grow authentically on its own, so we are taking our time going through the prequel as the prequel will help us gain a better understanding of the world to really do the main and original story correctly.

On the art side of things, yeah I always have a project going. I actually usually am working on 1-3 art things at a time to keep myself satiated and not burnt out doing one aspect of one thing too long. I wouldn't call any of them "passion projects" since they're honestly like... if you think about a management sim like STardew Valley, its like... tasks activities and stuff and less "projects" cause I just kind of take my art really casually if its not for an art trade, commission or a gift.

I guess the closest thing to a larger scale project is that I'm trying to go about all my characters now that I'm getting a semi-consistent way I like to draw them and make it so that everyone has at least one decent art thing to use as their icon for their toyhouse gallery and like, that doesn't sound hard but the story have 40+ characters and I currently have designed 40+ characters so its a long list of things XD

I'm also trying to design as many characters up front to help conceptualize them as we write them, but also to have those as "beta designs" for whenever I get around to the proper comic.

As for like individual WIPs, I finished one really ambitious one which was actually drawing something that was a lot more illustration and scenery based than anything else and I really liked how that turned out considering it took like three hours (below the keep reading #1)

And currently my two WIPs that aren't complete is that 1) I am trying to draw a like, wall line up of busts of a basically massive family of like 15 people where I've only designed like 4 of them already and only named 6 of said characters. Doing this mainly to like, build a better image of the family and to give alpha designs to characters that theoretically exist in the world so I can have them in my back pocket if its a good idea to pull from them. The earlier art I did of the older man is the patriarch and the first bust sketch I got done for this and 2) I'm slowly trying to work on and come up with a tattoo mural for one of the characters taht i only now found out appearently has tattoos when shes older. The thing is, consider it story wise, its extremely important taht these tattoos actually tell a story and have a meaning in regards to the character, so I've been rather stumped on what I could add to it and since these are supposed to be highly meaningful things, I figured the best way to go about "finishing it" and designing it would be to leave that art infinately open until I come up with sparks of ideas of perfect images to add onto her body that represent her, much like soeone who wanted to get a sleeve / tattoo mural themselves likely would. (most recent WIP below the keep reading #2)

CW; mild suggestivity / nsfw

#alter: riku #art #art posting #art ask #art asks #ask #asks

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hazelplaysgames · 2 years

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the farm quest highlights include an Ogremon who had a friend in a Kyubimon, seemingly unaffiliated with anyone, and both were invested in a comic series. i’m actually choosing not to finish all of them right now, i need a considerable bit more time to get one, and the other is actually really hard for right now. other quests included a Kotemon, who wanted to try a Digideli Cake. not too sure if Digideli is short for “Digi-delicious,” or actually means digi-deli, but anyways.

after a quick softlock at the Digifarm computer for no clear apparent reason, effectively wasting about half an hour of exp. grinding, i’d rather just try getting a move on, so the next main quest. the Resistor Jungle has been added as a location, and the clown squad of Barone, Ponch, and Gutts reported back from a trip there about getting attacked by members of Light Fang. i think i didn’t properly mention them before: they’re the second major team in this digital world, as an equal to Night Crow, the team i’m a part of in Dusk.

our goal is to head to R.J. to contact any Fangs who’re there, and try to see what they know. and then the clown squad goes running off, probably to make this situation worse. i’ll be more surprised if they don’t.

#digimon dusk to dawn

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nenekiribookwyrm · 2 years

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August 2022 Update!

Hello again! Trying my best to soak up as much of the sun as I can before the cold winds of Fall start blowing through again. It's always tough being a scaly dragon once the cold weather moves in. Not a lot of updates for the stuff I've been working on, but there is a lot in the works. Feels like I've been saying that a lot the past couple months, but once things start to kick off I have a feeling there will be a ton to share. Most of what I have this month is talking about other folk's cool projects and some small things from me. The Mitzvot Kickstarter I talked about in the last post utterly smashed their funding goal! The final count was somewhere over $4500 when the initial goal was $500. That's really amazing and I'm so excited for other people to get the chance to read the Post-Self series, and Mitzvot by extension. I just recently finished my review from my advance reading copy (of Mitzvot) that Madison was very generous to give to me. I plan on posting that after I hear back from Madison and she is understandably pretty busy with cleaning up the loose ends after the Kickstarter. And most exciting of all, the project did well enough that Madison has money to fund a small short-story collection set in the Post-Self universe! There's only going to be about 4-5 spots available but you bet your tail I'm going to try and get in on that anthology. I've already started planning out a story idea and I'm really excited to get to writing it. In table-top news, Sahoni has released a huge expansion for his Exceptionals game that adds a ton of new stuff for players! There's new protocols, a built-out setting, and plot-hooks for your gaming group included. There's also an expansion called Streetscapes developed in part with David Fernandez that makes the game closer to comic-book superheroes in the way in which the game plays. You can get both of those over at Sahoni's itch.io page: https://bramblewolfgames.itch.io/exceptionals-expansion-bundle Sahoni also just recently launched a new game called Friday Night Event and the concept sounds awesome! It's basically acting like pro-wrestlers and trying to crack your friends up, so I know I'm going to be playing this at a game night soon: https://bramblewolfgames.itch.io/friday-night-event In addition to that, there's a podcast episode from Team-Up Moves where they play Exceptionals. So if you're looking to get a taste of what the game might be like before buying, I'd suggest checking out their episode: https://player.captivate.fm/episode/a7bbd38f-7304-47b2-a260-3eeb0e66250d I got my huge commission from Shard Wintreswolf a few weeks ago and I'm still screaming about it! It's a big image of the seven main kobolds from my novella, The Unionization of Kobolds, and she did such an amazing job. She was also incredibly patient as I asked for edits and communicated with me every step of the process. Would highly recommend seeking her out to commission when she opens again: https://twitter.com/ShardWintreswlf I'm back at that Monster Hunter grind in my free time and am steadily climbing the Master Rank to make it to MR100. I'm at about MR60 right now and I'm really excited to get to fight Valstrax at MR70 since his high-rank gear was really fun to use. I just recently finished my new Silver Rathalos set for elemental charge blade builds and it looks absolutely amazing. That's about everything I have for now! See you again at the end of the month. Be safe and make sure to get a Covid booster and annual flu shot if you can!

Posted using PostyBirb

#updates

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averagewriter-inthedark · 2 years

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Just Like Old Times | Post NWH Series P.3

Contains spoilers for Spider-Man NWH

Read previous series first

Catch up parts 1 & 2 -> Series Masterlist | Main Marvel Masterlist

Series pairings & characters: Tobey!Peter Parker x female!reader/ Black Cat (romantic), Benny Parker OC, Harry Parker, OC, Mary Jane Watson x John Jameson, Gwen Stacy, J. Jonah Jameson.

Content Warnings: mentions of flighting, blood & violence, harassment towards a woman. Profanity. Flirtatious banter & sexual tension (nothing explicit except some small grinding at one point and implications to sex) so slight nsfw. Overall fluff (writing them makes me soft), kissing, mentions of past pregnancy. Slight canon divergence | female reader (she/her)

Ch. 3 Premise: It was a quiet night on patrol for Peter Parker—but once you use the word quiet to describe something then all hell breaks loose. The vigilante finds himself in a pickle, but with the help of a certain long retired Cat it’s as if time hadn’t even passed since the last the duo last kept the streets of New York safe from harms way.

Note: THE CAT IS BACK. This is part 3 of my post NWH series following the events of my previous series. Link above to catch up before reading this chapter. This diverges canon slightly and mentions events from the Raimi trilogy. So in the comics it’s Black Cat who loves Spider-Man more so than Peter, and MJ/Gwen are the ones who love Peter for him, but for the sake of this story and the plot I’m going for I’m making it opposite with Y/n & MJ. When I get to writing the prequel then it will have more depth, but this mentions it so I wanted to warn y’all.

____________

They say once you say once it’s quiet night then you’ll find chaos unfolding soon after. New York was rarely quiet, so the fact tonight it was rather slow had Peter Parker a little on edge. Something would happen soon.

The masked vigilante was perched on one of the many buildings overlooking the city streets. After kissing Y/n goodbye after the boys were in bed, he suited up and went to work.

“Where do you think you’re going?” She had stopped him before he could climb out the window. It was pushing ten o’clock and it was usually the time he left to go on patrol.

He looked a little startled, half his body hanging out the widow while she started at him with her arms crossed. “Uhhh,” he glanced at his suit “I’m heading out?” Her lips curled, moving slowly toward him like predator on prey.

“Without saying goodbye?” She tilted her head. “Without giving me a kiss?”

He dropped his head—realizing his mistake. She was teasing him and he knew that, but just her manners were enough to fluster him.“Ahh sorry. I-I didn’t wanna bother you, honey. You were busy working on the reports—.”

Y/n giggled, bringing a hand to his chin to make him look back her. Her eyes soften, looking at him with pride and love making him melt under her touch. “You know how I get, spider. I don’t care if you interrupt me while I work—I need to always see you before you go in case its the last time I do.” Her voice went a little low, causing his heart to sped up a bit.

Peter grabbed her hand that was under her chin, kissing her knuckles and looking at her with promise. “You know I’ll always come back to you, Y/n. Can’t leave the cat without her spider now, now can I?”

“You’re damn right,” she ends her words by bringing his lips to hers. She was careful not to push against him, otherwise he could lose balance on the windowsill. His one arm went to her waist, holding Y/n against him while he kissed her back with as much enthusiasm. Her hand caressed his cheek, and after several seconds she pulled away—gazing into his eyes. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he kissed her again. “I’ll be back before you wake in the morning.”

She smirked at him, almost mischievously but didn’t think to question it after she said, “Now go be a hero.” With one last kiss he was out the window and swinging through the air.

Now just after midnight Peter was looking down the streets—eyes out for anything out of the ordinary. There were a few police chases, a guy robbing a liquor store and an accident on first street. Not much compared to a typical Thursday night.

About twenty minutes he sat before commotion filled his ears. Spidey-senses started to tingle and Peter was off swinging through the air in the direction of the sounds. The wind breezed passed him and the sounds got louder before he cut the corner and saw the scene below.

There was a group of three guys running with bags in their hands with sirens blasting from the jewelry store they had just robbed. Peter swung forward, intercepting the trio when they crossed into a back alley. As he went downward Peter extended his legs and kicked the one making him collide with the dumpster. It caused the other two to stop running, fear in their eyes. “It’s the spider-guy! Go!”

After webbing the one man down for the cops to find Peter was on his feet chasing the other robbers. They didn’t get far for the vigilante and Peter shot webs to bring them back making the bags fall from their grip. They landed on the floor in front of him with a huff, before one guy removed a knife from his pocket and started swinging at Peter.

Peter dodged his puches—landing several in the guys face, but was unexpectedly tackled to the side by the second dude. He hit the ground with a *thump* grunting by the sudden impact. The knife came down on him, but Peter shot a web to remove it from his hand causing it to fall several feet away.

A punch went to his stomach, near his now healed would from the week prior—making the man wince. Peter pushed the guy off him, flipping back to his feet to kick him into the wall. When he turned to the last guy after webbing up the other, he was surprised to see he was already down. Being strung up by the legs from a rope.

An all too familiar rope.

Peter tilted his head before laughter from above filled his ears. It’s as coming from the rooftop and when he found no one looking down he quickly shot a web to pull him up. He landed in a crouching position, already knowing who was waiting for him somewhere on the roof, but still couldn’t see her.

“I know you’re here, trouble.” He called out, strolling past discarded bins until he was at the brick wall connecting the two buildings together. There was another giggle, and he spun around to face her but she again was no where in sight. Suddenly there was a voice next to his ear.

“I like watching you.” A sensual voice said, and Peter’s head turned to the side—eyes lifting slightly. There, lying on the roof of the next building in a cat-like position and staring down at him from behind the familiar tiny mask, was Y/n. His wife and former costumed anti-hero—decked in her new Black Cat attire she donned in the alternate world. Y/n was smirking at him, eyes twinkling from the moonlight shining down on her. “Just like old times.”

Peter placed his hands on his hips, head shaking slightly. “Wasn’t expecting to see you, Cat.” She giggled, making him take a step forward so he was just barely below her. “Couldn’t wait to get back in action?” He watches Y/n lean up before swinging her legs around so they were hanging off the edge.

“I told you, Spider.” She drops down into his awaiting arms, his hands going on her back while her legs loosely wrapped around his waist. She leans in so she could brush her nose against his covered one, like a cat would to its owner. “Being in little spiders world had me think a lot about our glory days. The cat wanted to come out from her slumber.” Y/n unwraps her legs, boots barely touching the floor though her arms remain around his neck. “Don’t you just miss this?”

Peter is biting his lip beneath the mask, trying to stop himself from smirking even though she wouldn’t see it. “There’s a lot I miss,” he tells her honestly. “We had a lot of fun back then. Just the two of us—late nights on patrol while the cops both hate and love us,” she laughed at that. “It was a great time—but we still have fun now, Cat.” His hand goes to tangle in her loose hair, happy she didn’t pin it back this time.

“I know,” she hums, smiling up at him. “I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”

The reason she had left the whole crime fighting behind after switching sides was cause she got pregnant. It was a hard time for the two when she did. They didn’t know if the relationship would work—especially after Peters actions from the symbiote, his conflicting feelings about Mj not to mention using Gwen to make Y/n jealous, his anger at her when she helped him and Harry fight Flint & Eddie despite knowing she was pregnant, and then Harry dying.

It was a lot for the two. And Y/n wasn’t sure if they would ever overcome the obstacles. They were not exactly together during her whole pregnancy because she wanted Peter to figure out who and what he wanted—and she needed time from him to think, but he still supported her. He gave her the space she asked for while still being there in regards to the baby—which became babies when they discovered she was having twins.

It was a long eight months.

During that time Peter had a lot of time to think. Sort out his feelings and realize Mjs’ love for him stemmed from him being Spider-Man, whereas Y/n had fell in love with Peter as Peter Parker. When the two had met as their aliases—not knowing who they really were—Y/n felt herself becoming attracted to Spider-Man because he reminded her of Peter, unaware it was him along.

And the same was for Peter. He had met Y/n formally the day he got bitten—despite knowing she was friends with Harry and had graduated a year before him. She had been an intern with Norman at Oscorp before he referenced her to go work with Otto, and was present in the lab the day Midtown seniors were touring the facility. Recognizing Peter—and always finding him cute when they would pass in the hallways at school—she went up to him when he was talking with Harry.

He found her absolutely beautiful. They didn’t see each other after that and would be almost a year later before they were reacquainted. Peter went on to have a small romance with Mj before breaking up, shortly later he and Y/n became closer friends and he met the Black Cat—where something about her had reminded him of Y/n. The confidence, the intellect, the playfulness. He couldn’t see her face behind the mask nor did he recognize the white wig concealing her natural hair, but just the way she held herself made him attracted to her.

So when both of their identities were exposed after Otto kidnapped Y/n, it was though the missing pieces had fallen together. They both realized why they were attracted to their alter egos so much. Peter was falling for Black Cat because she was Y/n, and Y/n grew feelings for Spider-Man, because he was Peter. There was a mutual love forming and peace.

But then Mj kept trying to get Peter back—despite being engaged, and the symbiote came along.

When those events happened Peter honestly believed he lost her forever. Harry was gone and Mj was pushing her wedding month by month in hopes Peter would come around—playing with his feelings. He had had enough and the news Y/n was pregnant gave him hope. There was also the fact Aunt May threatened to beat him with her cane if he didn’t get his act together.

Peter made things clear with Mj—cutting her out of his life and he vowed to make things up with Y/n— to be there for their child.

But she needed time and space, which he gave her. So when eight months flew by and they were holding their baby boys in the hospital room, the look on Y/ns face as she smiled to Peter indicated she’d forgiven him. He had another chance. Things needed to be taken slow and there was no way he was going to screw it up again.

“What’s going on in that head of your, trouble?” Peters voice shook Y/n from her thoughts. She hadn’t realized she had just been staring at him for a good minute—where he had lifted his mask—while her mind wondered back to all those years when they were just a Cat and Spider.

She brushed her nose against his once more. “Just thinking,” she whispered against his now uncovered lips. “About us—about everything.”

Peter held her closer, thumb trailing along her suit. “We’ve come a long way. Haven’t we, Cat?” He watched Y/ns eyes light up, sparkling even more.

“It’s been quite the ride, Spider.” She giggled, pulling away and brushing past him with her hand trailing over his chest. Y/n strutted toward the opposite end of the room so she could overlook the streets. The city was full of life though it was nearing 1 in the morning, and it would be any moment before some drama would happen.

Y/n honestly couldn’t wait to get back into action with her Spider.

Speaking of spider, Peters had came behind her before crouching down right next to her. She followed his movements—going in a cat-like position, eyes scanning the ground for anyone causing trouble. Resting her head on his shoulder, Y/n thought aloud. “Thanks for getting my good side for the front cover.”

She laughed when Peter groaned, his dropping. The man knew exactly what she was referring to. The photos he had of Y/n from the morning the city saw Spider-Man chasing Black Cat were all blurry and hadn’t really captured a clear image of her face. However there were two photos that were feasible to put on cover—one of which was a little to close up for his liking where one could just barely make out the side of her profile, while the other was a behind shot completely covering her face from view.

It wasn’t a hard choice to make.

“I knew you had a thing for my ass, Parker—especially in the suit. But I didn’t think you’d broadcast it for the entire world.”

“You’re never gonna let me live this down are you?” He turned to her, seeing how she was smiling cheeky in amusement. The shake of her head made him chuckle. He turned back to the streets while Y/n trailed her hand up his back—tracing some of the lines with her gloved fingertips. The sound of police sirens filled their ears, Peter smirking under the mask and turning to his wife who was already mirroring his expression. “Ready for some trouble?”

Y/n lifts her head off his shoulder, perseverance in her gaze. “I like when there’s trouble.” Peter sent her a wink, hand coming up to bring down his mask.

“Quiet as a cat.”

“Sneaky as a spider.”

By three am, the two had successfully stopped three robberies, two car thief’s, and a guy harassing a young woman. That one Y/n had dibs on—not caring if she had caused the guy too much harm. She snuck her way above the alley he had cornered the girl in, and dropped down behind him—quiet as a cat—and before the man could blink he was thrown into a brick wall.

Y/n used her grappling hook to lift herself so she could use the brick wall as a push off and swing the guy down to his back. He hit the ground hard with a loud grunt. When he realized who was on top of him he about screamed. “Holy shit, you’re Black Cat—-.” His mouth was muffled at the last word after it was webbed shut.

Peter swung down, while Y/n pushed off the guy forming a front walk over until she was upright. Her eyes were in disgust at the man, grabbing him roughly by his jacket to lift him up. “Like harassing young girls, don’t you?” His mumbles were incoherent, eyes full of fear seeing her and Spider-Man in front of him. Y/n took another grappling device, strapping it on his waist while Peter webbed his hands and ankles. “This better be your hint to never do it again.”

The hook shot up and mounted on the gutter above, the man shrieking when he was lifted in the air. Y/n just rolled her eyes as her struggled against the webbing and rope—focusing her attention on the shaking girl beside the dumpster. “Are you okay, hun?” Her voice went from menacing to gentle when she addressed her.

The young woman’s eyes were wide, clutching to her purse to hug herself. She manages to nod weakly, bearing the two looks of gratitude. “Y-Yes. Th-thank you—so much. T-Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Peter tells her softly. “Better get home now—and stay safe.” The young woman nods, thanking them again before running out of the alley. They leave the man strapped up by the rope for the police—hearing the sirens in the distance, and Peter grabs Y/n by her waist before shooting a web to the top of the building.

Once on the roof, they run a few rooftops over till they are a good distance away—seeing the red and blue flashes light up where the alley was. When they finally stop, Y/n lets out a breath—clapping her hands together, “Phew, man it feels nice to be back.”

A giggle leaves her when Peters arms are around her waist from behind, pulling her to his chest. “Just like old times, eh?” His unmasked face goes to her neck, taking in her aroma which was a mix of her perfume that he loved with sweat from all the action they had endured through the night. Y/ns hand comes up to card her fingers in his hair while she leaned into his chest.

“Can’t believe I waited so long—you got to have all the fun,” she teases, tilting her head when he placed a kiss to her hot skin.

“You were raising two babies, Cat,” he mumbles pressing more kisses to her neck. “I think the citizens of New York would understand why you took a hiatus—not that they would ever know.” He groans when she bushes her backside against him. The thin material of their suits leaving nothing to the imagination. “Y/n,” he warns, lifting his head to give her a look of ‘Don’t start something you know we can’t finish just yet.’

“What?” she says innocently, doing the movement again and smirking when she feels his reaction beneath her. “You used to love it.”She was so referencing the nights she used to work him up on patrol so when they’d get home it would be a good time to relieve all the stress pent up.

“Not saying I don’t,” his hands go to her hips, holding her firmly. She pouts and he squeezes slightly to warn her. “But if you keep it up I’m not gonna last. And we’re in public—can’t have us getting caught and arrested for that, trouble.”

“That didn’t stop you before—.”

“Y/n….”

She huffs but smirks nonetheless. “Fine,” her tone is dramatic, but becomes playful again. “As long as you make it up to me, Spider.” Peter chuckles, leaning forward to kiss her lips but pulling away before she could try and bit his lip like she usually did to get him worked up.

“Wouldn’t dream of anything else, Cat.”

Y/n smiles, turning around so she could face him and bring the man into another kiss when sirens ring out in the night. They both turn to see flashing red and blue speeding down towards a racing car a street away. The cars turned and started speeding out of view—the couple turning to each other with mirrored gazes of ‘Time to go to work.’

Y/n pulls down Peters mask, but before giving him one last kiss. “The city that never sleeps huh, spider?”

“Just like old times.”

....................

Tag list: @secretsthathauntus , @eternalharry

#spiderman x reader #spiderman imagine #tobey!spiderman x reader #tobey!spiderman #tobey!peter x reader #tobey maguire #spiderman fanfiction #peter parker x y/n #peter parker imagine #black cat #black cat reader #vigilante!reader #marvel #marvel imagines #marvel fanfiction #avengers #avengers imagines

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secret-diary-of-an-fa · 1 year

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‘Progressive’ and ‘Perfomative Wokeness’ Aren’t the Same Thing (and, Apparently, I have to Explain this to Grown-Ups).

TRIGGER WARNING: Overexplaining; references to Marvel’s Eternals that can only serve to bring back bad memories; me going on and on about how great a movie Get Out was for bloody ages; Chris Chibnall (not just in the blog- I just thought I’d use this Trigger Warning to remind you that, sadly, he still exists).

Progressive media is great isn’t it? Good, solid lefty films and TV shows that actually have intelligent, well-thought political ideas woven into their plots in a way that makes you think and inspires an emotional reaction. They’re brilliant! I love ‘em, and we’ll be coming, by the by, to some of my favourite examples. But then there’s ‘woke’ media- media that usually has one very simple point to make- usually one it hasn’t thought about even slightly- and won’t fucking shut up about, bringing plots and even entire arcs grinding to a halt so that it can alternately insult and lecture its audience. That shit can fall down an endless staircase into a big pile of Lego that then gets melted into molten plastic by the that wildfire stuff from Game of Thrones. Today, boys and girls, we’re going to be talking about the difference. It’s a difference I’ve never articulated before, despite my well-documented political views and my equally well-documented views on the state of western culture. Largely because I didn’t think it required that much thought. To me, it’s an obvious difference- a difference that announces itself with a full blown song and dance routine and a fireworks display. But I’ve seen enough people using the terms ‘progressive’ and ‘woke’ interchangeably now to realise that I’m going to have to pull out my mortar board, rap the world’s knuckles with a ruler and do some fuckin’ ‘splainin’. Buckle in, dickwidgets, we’s gon’ get y’all some education. Yee fucking haw.

Let’s start with an example of one of my favourite truly progressive films of recent years- a film that takes one heck of a swing at modern racism and practically knocks its fucking head off. I speak, of course, of Jordan Peele’s debut flick Get Out, in which the protagonist finds himself victimised by a superficially forward-looking white family who make such a song and dance about not being racist that things seem a little off from the moment he first meets them. Ultimately (spoilers!) it turns out that they want to scoop out his brain and transfer one of their consciousnesses to his body because they’ve convinced themselves that, if they inhabit a black body, they’ll magically be ‘cool’ and ‘street’. It culminates with Chris (our hero) having to stage a violent escape/retribution-spree in order to save himself from his would-be bodysnatchers. It’s a brilliant film that works as both a piece of pure entertainment and a nuanced political argument. What does it do right? Well, aren’t you lucky? I brought a fucking list!

1) It tells an entertaining (and frankly bonkers) story that has never been done before, surprises on first viewing and intrigues on repeat viewings WITHOUT STOPPING THE ACTION TO OVEREXPLAIN THE MOTHERFUCKING SUBTEXT.

2) It allows its story and politics to feed on each other organically, with the politics lending context to the story and the story demonstrating the value of the politics. At no point does one twist wildly to accommodate the other or get in the way of the other.

3) It has a sense of humour about itself. There’s an entire comic relief character who (and this is important) is actually funny because their jokes aren’t aimed at continually reinforcing the political message or bullying certain viewers (as jokes in a lot of woke media often are) but are used to provide entertaining interludes that help to break up the main plot and enrich the tone, making the world of the film feel less one-note and more lived-in.

4) It clearly and fairly signposts its intentions. There’s no mystery box whose contents turn out to be a tedious lecture on race-hate; there’s no bait and switch; there’s no flipping of race or gender followed by an ‘ooh aren’t we clever and edgy’ moment from and for the benefit of the film-makers (and literally nobody else). No. You go in expecting a vehemently anti-racist film with a black lead who’s an original character created by the screen-writer and that’s exactly what you get. Bravo this film for not fucking me about.

The result of all this is that Get Out isn’t just fun to watch: it’s persuasive. It doesn’t just tell you ‘racism is bad, m’kay’, it focuses on specific behaviours and modes of thoughts, follows them to their logical conclusion and demonstrates what the problem is without insulting you, the viewer, in the process. It makes a compelling case without insisting that you’re the bad guy if you don’t agree with every single word- or just if you haven’t thought about it before. You can watch it as just a fun, quirky film, sure, but if you engage with it intellectually, you might find yourself thinking ‘Actually, that’s a fair point. I hadn’t given that much thought before.’

For the feminist equivalent, I’d invite you to consider The Perfection (one of only two films I’ve ever described as ‘transcendent’) which uses similar tools (but in a different way) to address the specific species of sexism that runs through the classical music world like a blue vein through cheese- a blue vein you think is just part of the cheese’s colour and flavour until this film dissect’s the cheese for you and exposes a rich seam of poisonous fucking lyrium. That metaphor may have gotten away from me a bit- but the point is that that’s another good film that’s actually progressive and makes its point in an intelligent way.

Of course, some films and telly shows are progressive incidentally- it’s just part of their DNA and their plots don’t depend on a specific leftist or liberal points. Case in point, one of my favourite films of all time, Annihilation, which just happens to have a predominantly female cast in a genre that, at the time it was made, was very male-dominated, but which doesn’t feel the need to make a big deal of it. It’s actually a film about humanity encountering a cosmic lifeform that blends and fractalises genetic structures in ways that are simultaneously beautiful and deadly. And its a love story that transcends species. And its a horror film that features bears with the voices of screaming humans. And its an art-piece that meditates on the beautiful yet unsettling character of perfect symmetry itself. And its a character study. And… you know what, just go fucking watch it. The big, obvious progressive element somehow seems infinitely less important once you’ve actually watched the bloody thing, because it’s really just a nice touch and is so far from being the main point that you just kind of stop noticing after the hand-wave that explains it in-universe.

See? These are all progressive pieces of media that I like because they’re good. And I could go on: there’s Snowpiercer (the film, not the series- the series lost me when it inexplicably decided it wanted to be a murder mystery), in which mankind’s final, world-destroying class war is staged entirely within the confines of a posh train. There’s that one episode of Peter Capaldi era Doctor Who when the Doctor helps put the final nail in capitalism’s coffin. There’s basically all the Alien films, which, aside from having an unconventional female lead way before it was cool, were also hypercritical of the military-industrial complex and the generalised exploitation of natural resources both on and off Earth. There’s Luther, which was mostly an apolitical crime drama, but which just happened to centre on a burly black cop whose race isn’t mentioned even once because it’s not the sodding point. Actually, at the time, I don’t think most viewers even thought about Luther being black- he just was. There was less need to dive into the subtext of every casting decision and line because the battle lines hadn’t yet been drawn in the idiotic culture war that every moron on the planet (on both sides of the political spectrum, by the way) simultaneously decided was happening. But that’s by the by. Frankly, we could be here all fucking day if I had a mind to list everything that’s either expressly left-leaning and liberal or contains a key liberal element and is also VERY GOOD. But time’s winged chariot and all that. I promised to explain the difference between progressive media and ‘woke’ media, so we should probably get on with that.

Well, there are actually quite a few differences, starting with whether the writers and actors have brains in their skulls or just an IOU and a couple of loose corks. However, one of the key points I’ve already talked about is that progressive media wants to persuade you. It gets you to invest in its characters and its world and, while it’s doing that, it weaves an argument that you can consider or not- and it credits you with the wit to do that for yourself and won’t make you feel like slime if you politely decline to engage on that level. Woke media, in contrast, has no interest whatsoever in persuading you. In fact, it will very often go out of its way to antagonise you. Then it’ll call you a racist or a sexist or a homophobe or a bigot for being antagonised. Then it’ll give itself a big, hearty pat on the back for striking a blow for INSERT HISTORICALLY MISTREATED GROUP HERE, even though what it’s actually done is create a wave of reactionary hate from people who were probably either undecided, indifferent or moderate regarding INSERT GROUP HERE until a pretentious bloody movie called them all cunts for no reason whatsoever.

My favourite example of the above phenomenon has got to be a film called ‘Bros’, which is a gay rom-com that’s very, very keen to let you know how down with da gayz it is. When I first saw it advertised, my initial reaction was ‘Oh, hey, that’s a neat, niche little thing. My trans gay friend S (real name deleted to protect the innocent) might get a kick out of that’. Then, when it didn’t perform as well as a typical, mainstream rom-com on opening weekend, the cast took to twitter to snidely imply that all the people who didn’t go see it were homophobes (apparently- I have to admit, this is second-hand because I haven’t been on Twitter in fucking years. I moved and now live near a Dunlop’s, so whenever I want to see a reeking tyre-fire, I just pop up there with a box of matches instead). Anyway, the point is that instead of persuading the audience it had and trying to recruit viewers through streaming platforms and DVD sales using, you know, advertising, Bros instead decided to brow-beat the audience it didn’t have (because, let’s be clear, the stars would have had their leashes yanked sharpish if those behind the film weren’t on-board with this bit of media drama). It was good publicity- it made it look like the film was taking a stand… but I don’t think it made one single person give a shit about LGBTQ rights. If anything, it will have put people off giving a shit.

But that’s a bit of a sketchy example, since the viewer-baiting took place outside of the film itself and was largely achieved through contrived social media furore. In fact, I’d go so far as to suggest it wasn’t part of the original plan but just a desperate (and very stupid) reaction to a box office ranking that any other niche title would have been overjoyed about. No, for a real, solid example of where woke media prefers to bully than persuade, we really need to look at a show where the bullying happens in the media artefact itself.

The example that occurs to me off the cuff is the fucking trainwreck that started all this shit in the first place: the 2016 Ghostbusters reboot. And yes, I know WB did eventually apologise for it and that their apology took the form of the lovely Ghostbusters: Afterlife, so I can’t really stay mad at them. But it is a great example. The antagonising of the fans started early with the casting, which involved a complete gender-flip of the main cast (despite the fact that the jokes only really work on a metatextual level if the heroes are paragons of failed masculinity- but let’s leave the analysis at the door: that ain’t what we’re here for). The film-makers then underscored that particular bit of fan-baiting by making the only male character in the main cast a witless, ineffectual moron so archly caricatured that he’d only have made sense in a below-par MAD Magazine issue… or on the Conservative back-benches. They then decided it wasn’t even in continuity- meaning it wasn’t just a badly-conceived continuation of the franchise but a symbolic replacement of it. And finally, just give the screw one final turn, they stripped out all the word-play and cleverness that defined the comedy of the original and replaced it with slapstick. Really. Bad. Slapstick. This film was tailor made to piss people off. I don’t think that was it’s main purpose- I think some idiot probably legitimately thought it would be box office gold- but between the symbolic erasure of the original heroes, the ooh-look-at-us-being-all-feminist-but-not-really bullshit of the gender-flip, the bad writing and the direct insult to any self-respecting viewer with a penis, the effect was a belittling, degrading film that was always going to alienate a significant percentage of the audience. And then, of course, call them sexist for complaining that they’d gone to see a Ghostbusters film and been given a big ol’ turd sandwich instead. And before someone with a really short memory accuses me of the same, just a quick reminder that one of my favourite movies of all time is Annihilation. And no, taste in movies doesn’t necessarily equate to political stripe, but if you insist on using that metric, you can consult the list of examples of really very good progressive media at the start of this blog to gauge my opinions using ALL the data.

For a more up-to-date example, I’d invite you to consider The Rings of Power on Amazon, which grates cheerfully against fans’ nerves by disregarding all of Tolkien’s themes and stylistic flourishes in favour of modern American attitudes and ideas (for a show set in a medieval fantasy world ostensibly based on books written in the 60s by a British man living in Britain. Who wants to play ‘Spot the Dissonance’?). Or Marvel’s Eternals. Actually, no. I’m not getting into fucking Eternals here. Even my filleting knife would get blunt trying to pick the bones out of that fucking mess.

In fact, let’s move on altogether! I’m here to explain the difference between woke media and actually progressive media- not provide a small mountain of proof that one sucks and one rocks. I feel that if I need to demonstrate something that obvious paragraph by paragraph, I might as well go and explain to a flat-Earther why the laws of physics forbid him from living on a space pancake.

I wanted to address another key difference between woke media and progressive media. Progressive, left-wing media has a consistent political ethos (see the more explicitly political examples from the first half of this blog) whereas woke media just kinda makes the right noises. Very often, its real politics are completely at odds with the noises its making, in fact. Which means- joy of joys- it’s time to talk about Chibnall-era Doctor Who. Again. And yes, even I’m sick of me at this point, but it really is the best example. Okay, let’s get this over with.

Chibnall-era Who is definitely woke. It has the first female Doctor (pity she can’t act)! It’s TARDIS crew is the most diverse in the show’s history (even bravely including a grown man who needs his Grandad’s help to ride a fucking bike. Wait, I said ‘bravely’. I meant ‘unnecessarily’). It’s got that one episode where the Doctor stops a time-travelling racist from fucking up Rosa Park’s big moment and therefore saves the Civil Rights Movement (never mind that the Civil Rights Movement was a complex, long-form struggle and the erasure of a single, admittedly important and famous moment within it still wouldn’t actually have effected its overall course by that much- it’s not like this show about actual fucking time travel that aspired, during Chibnall’s tenure, to be educational, has a duty to accurately portray the way history works. It’s totally fine to suggest that something that cost countless people their lives in a tiring, soul-crushing battle against systemic oppression ultimately boiled down to a bus seat. But I digress). So yeah. Definitely woke. But it wasn’t liberal or left-wing or progressive in any meaningful way. There’s that episode where Whitaker’s Doctor finds herself in the middle of a struggle between an evil corporation that kills its own workers and the guy trying to blow it up… and then she sides with the evil mega-corp. There’s that episode where the Doctor locks a bunch of giant spiders in a room to starve to death rather than DO LITERALLY ANYTHING ELSE, breaking with a long tradition of animal rights activism that goes way back to Pertwee’s Third Doctor. There’s that episode where she gives a lecture putting the blame for climate change on individuals and completely ignores the corporations and governments who are mainly to blame. Need I go on? I fucking hope not. The Ninth Doctor once exploded the entire top floor of a space station just for putting out programmes that kept the masses dumb and compliant. That was progressive. The Tenth Doctor had an entire arc about fighting corporate-made Cybermen. That was progressive. The Eleventh Doctor… okay, I don’t have any Eleven examples because he didn’t have the attention span to form a coherent political viewpoint, but the Twelfth Doctor once literally ended capitalism and punched a dude he was supposed to be interrogating for making a racist comment, even though it didn’t protect history or anything- he just really hated racism. All that was progressive. Chibnall’s Whitaker-Doctor was, in contrast, a walking catalogue of moral failures not worthy of the name ‘Doctor’… and that’s not progressive.

All of which leaves us with one question? Well, two if you count ‘when will this blog entry fucking end?’ But mainly, it leaves us asking ‘why?’ If woke media alienates the people who’d otherwise pay money to see it and the people making it don’t even believe the messages they’re mongering, what possible purpose could it serve? If it’s not profitable and it’s not heartfelt, what the fuck is it even for? The answer, of course, is ‘search me, mate’. I suspect that someone thought it might be profitable at one point. Fuck, for all I know, it actually is making money- the algorithms that define these things got divorced from our puny human version of logic yonks ago. All I can say for certain is that it’s a trend and, like all trends, will probably go away eventually. Unlike progressive media, which will continue being made because the people making it actually believe things and have interesting points to make. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go and cry over the squandered franchise potential of Annihilation- the film that deserved a billion sequels and got zero because western culture decided to shit itself instead. Fuckity bye.

#Secret Diary of a Fat Admirer #what were you expecting?#a mature nuanced take on a complex issue #Really? Knowing it was me writing it? That's what you expected?#Yeah. Think before you read next time

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linorachas · 3 years

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sunday's best. | bang chan

⁍ pairing — bang chan x reader ⁍ genre — fluff and smut ⁍ word count — 11.2k words ⁍ details — established relationship, domesticity, producer!chan, choreographer!reader, lots of cuddles and kissing (again), you're both really in love (again), hard smut | details under the cut ⁍ notes — part 2 of for the weekend is here! thank you so much to everyone who supported part 1 and asked for more. it gave me so much motivation to start and finish this one and i maaay have gotten a little bit carried away considering it's almost triple the size. and the smut... yea.... this could be read as a one-shot, but there’s a lot of elements from pt. 1 that i referenced in here, so please check that one out first! and also please please lmk if you enjoyed! ♥️ ⁍ summary — Day 2. Holding up your end of the deal, strawberry ice cream, and Ugly Cat bowls.

⁍ smut specifics — dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampie, vaginal fingering, one mention of the word "daddy", possessiveness on chan’s part (but not the asshole kind), a smidge of oral (f. receiving), orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, choking (but not really? just hand on throat), reader talks about liking the pain a lot, dry humping, slightest bit of cum play ⁍ little side note — please practice safe sex u guys. wrap it up. these guys are not good role models at all. be safe. also always pee after sex. plz. also this isn't proofread god bless

Saturday, 3:20 pm

“Time to fulfill my part of the deal so we can get on with yours.”

You hold your breath, stunned at the determination in Chan’s eyes. You’re distracted at the way his lips curl and at how his dimples pop out, your eyes following the line of his broad shoulders. You eye the ridges of his arms, down to the veins in his hands, parched throat swallowing when you get to his defined abs.

God, he was sexy.

You follow his happy trail, down and down until-- ah. Right. He was still naked. In the kitchen.

Your face scrunches up comically, desire disappearing as you hop off the counter and shoo him away.

“Go get some clothes, what the hell. Do you know how unsanitary it is to be naked in here? Gross, Chan.”

Staring at you in disbelief, Chan gapes, “after you just blatantly checked me out? I saw that!”

You walk past him, rummaging through the cupboards for food. “Unless you want me to come near you with a pair of scissors close to your-”

“I’m going, I’m going!” Chan shouts, as he rushes back to the bedroom, the panic in his voice making you laugh.

You’re just starting to fill up a pot with water when arms sneak around your waist and a very clingy but now fully dressed Bang Chan nuzzles his face into your neck, humming.

“What do you want me to cook for you, baby?” He asks excitedly, ready to do anything.

You snort. “Unless you can magically conjure up some groceries, I don’t think you can cook me anything at all.”

Chan freezes at that, releasing his hold on you so he could open the refrigerator and cupboards, mouth dropping in shock when he sees that there really was no food. You’ve both been so busy this week, spending most of your meals at that company, that you both probably forgot to do mini-grocery runs.

“Though we do have like, 4 packs of ramen left and half a can of spam.” You call Chan’s attention back to you, gesturing towards the food on the counter. Chan, the big eater that he was, deflates at the sight, looking exactly like a kicked puppy.

“Aw, I know that’s not enough for you, baby.” You coo, shuffling over to Chan to pinch his cheek. It starts gentle at first, but then you put a bit of pressure, narrowing your eyes. “But if you eat more than your share, I’m biting you.”

Chan yelps, nodding rapidly as your pinch his cheek harder, “okay! Okay! I won’t steal from your share, I promise, baby- ow!”

You relent soon after, pressing a sweet kiss to Chan’s reddened cheek as he scowls at you. “Good. Now let’s get cooking, because if I don’t have food in me in the next 3 minutes I really might start biting you.”

Chan jumps out of your reach at that, and you watch him with a smile as he bustles around to prepare your food. You get a bowl each after it cooks, perfectly equal in portion size. There aren’t any words being shared as you both settle on the couch, your thighs pressed together as you slurp on your noodles, putting on a drama you were both invested in. Chan doesn’t notice when you slip your one last remaining piece of spam into his bowl, too busy berating a main character for being stupid, but he does let you finish off the soup in his bowl.

You and Chan start working on chores after that, because when you were looking for the remote control under the couch, you’re greeted with a cloud of dust, making you sneeze thrice.

Chan laughs at you, but then he’s cut off by his own sneeze too. You share one look before you’re both scrambling towards the cleaning supplies.

It takes you both hours just to clean the whole apartment and do some laundry, the sky already dark when you settle back down on the couch.

Considering you literally had no ingredients to cook with, you decide to order for dinner, and there’s a small dispute as to who has to get up to accept the food and pay the delivery man. The fight is resolved with a quick game of rock, paper, scissors; Chan winning fairly, but you still complain on your way to the door.

“We should work out,” Chan pipes up suddenly when you’re both lying on your sides on the couch, him being the little spoon. Dinner was a quick affair, and now you’re both just basking in the happiness of having a full stomach.

You make a face. “Was that not enough of a workout?” you ask, referring to your spotless apartment.

Chan snorts, turning around so his front was facing you. But he slides down, making a sound akin to purr as he buries his face in your neck. “I mean, like. Yoga. Leg day reps. Jogging?”

You groan, pinching his side. “I dance for a living. You go work out. Let me rot on this couch for tonight.”

Chan laughs at that, but doesn’t pester you about it anymore. You let him rest on your clavicle as you focus on your attention to the drama that was currently airing on the TV, slightly interested now.

You’d have thought Chan was asleep if it wasn’t for the kisses that he presses on your neck, harmless little pecks that soon have a bit of teeth in them. You lean your head back, finding the action more comforting than anything, but then Chan’s tongue suddenly darts out to lick at a spot near your jaw, and you shiver.

You sigh, but you don’t push him away. Instead, your fingers card through his hair, making Chan groan happily. He stops pestering your neck then, enjoying your fingers massaging and scratching at his scalp.

But your first mistake was thinking you were safe, because suddenly, there’s a thigh slipping in between your legs, pressing against your covered mound.

“Ah,” you moan, surprised, but Chan doesn’t do anything else after that, just lets his thigh rest there. You narrow your eyes suspiciously. “I thought you were going to work out.”

“This is my workout.” Chan whispers, and when you feel his devilish smile against your skin, you knew you were doomed.

Chan presses his thigh against your clothed pussy more insistently, making you squirm. The thin material of your panties and sleep shorts barely provided any layers between you, heightening the pleasure.

His thigh flexes, and the feeling of your clit grinding down on the hardened muscle was simply too good to ignore, and you’re humping Chan’s thigh before you could even think twice about it.

“Good girl,” Chan praises when he notices your hips gyrating, leaning up for a second to press a sweet kiss to your lips. He continues to adjust, helping you find the best position for your pleasure. “Keep rubbing that pretty pussy on me, baby, that’s it.”

You moan when a hand slides under your shirt and brushes against one of your nipples, Chan rolling the slowly hardening nub between his fingers. You feel yourself getting wet embarrassingly quick, and you knew you could cum like this. Chan has made you cum multiple times before just from clitoral stimulation alone, and dry humping was no exception to that.

You’re just about to ask if he was really going to let you cum, but then Chan pulls his thigh away, and the knot in your stomach disappears.

You groan for an entirely different reason now, upset at your orgasm being taken away from you. But Chan busies himself with tugging at your shirt until you get the idea and take it off, and he immediately latches his mouth to one of your nipples, sucking.

You suck in a breath through gritted teeth, pressing his head closer to your chest as he paid attention to both your nipples, licking and sucking and biting. You were getting uncomfortably wet now, your panties damp, and you convey this to Chan in hopes that he would speed things up.

You should have known that it would just spur him on.

“You wet for me already?” Chan asks once he stops marking your breasts, facing you with a grin.

You nod rapidly. “Yes, so if you could fuck m-”

“Ah,” Chan tuts, “let me feel first.”

You don’t even get a chance to protest because Chan’s hand is already disappearing, slipping under the waistband of your shorts and panties to slide two of his fingers between your folds. You jolt at the contact, moaning as he uses those two fingers to rub circles on your clit gently.

“Chan,” you moan and he hums distractedly, leaning down to suck more marks on your skin. He slips in a finger without warning, but since you were so wet and ready for him, you took his finger in easily.

Chan curses, testing the waters by slipping in a second finger slowly, and though there was a bit of a sting this time, his second finger slides in just as easily.

“God, baby, you’re soaking.”

Chan crooks his fingers, brushing against your g-spot almost immediately, making you jolt and whine. He picks up the pace, fingers fucking in and out you fast despite your underwear and shorts restricting most of his hand movement.

He comes up for a kiss, your mouth opening automatically for him to slip his tongue in. He groans into your mouth at your obedience, free hand gripping your jaw tight. He sucks on your tongue just as he adds a third finger, and you pull away to hiss.

Chan’s fingers were long and filled you up nicely, and with how he was rubbing at your g-spot insistently, it wasn’t long before you felt your orgasm climbing up again.

“I’m prepping you, but it looks like you don’t need it with how you’re sucking my fingers in, baby.” Chan shakes his head, playful disbelief coloring his tone. “Did you think about my cock in you all day? Wanted me to fuck you that bad?”

“Yeah, yes, I- ah,” you gasp, nodding at his words rapidly. Chan leans in to kiss you again, but you manage to stop him with a shaky hand pressed to his chest, forcing him to meet your gaze.

“You held up your end of the deal,” you whisper, already breathless, “it’s time I hold up mine.”

Chan’s eyes darken, and you squeak when he suddenly sits up on his knees, free hand yanking your shorts and underwear down in one swift motion. He leans back down to get the kiss you stopped at before, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth and making you moan.

“But first,” Chan murmurs against your lips, voice leaving no room for discussion. “You cum for me now.”

Now that there was no clothing to restrict his hand movements, the pace of Chan’s fingers picked up faster, driving you crazy and making you squirm on the couch. Chan pins your hips down with his other hand so he could drive his fingers into you easily, and the wet sounds of his fingers thrusting inside your cunt was so lewd you felt yourself blushing.

It only takes a quick brush of Chan’s thumb against your clit to have your body snapping, trembling in Chan’s arms as your hole convulses against his fingers. Chan groans like he was the one having an orgasm, eyes appreciatively staring at the way your head was thrown back, chest heaving up and down.

Chan pulls his fingers out carefully, planning to just wipe them on his shirt, but then you make a noise, catching his attention. He looks up, confused, but then sees the way your gaze was trained on his fingers— which were slicked with your juices— and his cock got so hard, it started to hurt.

“Fuck, you’re filthy.” Chan whispers, but he brings his fingers up to your lips, letting you lick and suck to your heart’s content. Chan swallows as you look up at him through your lashes, cleaning his fingers thoroughly with long swipes of your tongue. For each glimpse he sees of the wet appendage around his finger, his dick jumps in his sweatpants.

You pull off slowly when you finish, eyes still locked with Chan’s. The both of you were breathing hard now, gazes intense as you stared each other down. At first, you felt like both the predator and the prey. Chan could destroy you with his fingers alone if he wanted to, but he was easy to fluster as well.

But then Chan tilts your head up with a single finger, leaning down to press a soft, slow kiss to your lips, a kiss so full of intent, lust and— love, that it leaves you breathless, eyes wide.

Chan lips quirk. “Bedroom?”

Saturday, 10:41 pm.

“Arch for me, baby.” Chan orders, breathless, hand smoothing down your lower back. You were truthfully too weak to hold yourself up already, mind numbed with pleasure, but you do your best, legs shaking with the effort to present yourself. But the pleased grumble that immediately comes out of Chan definitely makes the grueling position worth it.

You were both naked now, having shed Chan’s clothes as soon as you stumbled through the bedroom door, after you spent a good ten minutes just making out against it. Chan had shut the door with a quick kick, carrying you on the way to the bed even though it was only a few steps away.

But you didn’t complain, not when he dropped you in the middle and immediately manhandled you to your hand and knees, tugging your hips close to him with a grunt.

“That’s my good girl,” Chan leans down, whispering the words against the nape of your neck as the tip of his cock slid between your folds.

You start whining, because you were much more exposed in this position and you were being good but Chan wasn’t doing anything about it and you just wanted to be fucked. You convey your displeasure by pushing back against Chan’s cock, trying to get it to slip in you without his help.

“Want it inside, sweetheart? Hm?” Chan mumbles against your ear, teeth nipping at the lobe teasingly. “I can feel your greedy little hole twitching against me. Shit, you want it that bad?”

You nod rapidly, uncaring of how desperate you looked. Mostly because Chan liked that look on you. He liked knowing that you let your guard down around him, that nobody in the world could bring you to your knees and have you begging to be filled like he does.

Chan never explicitly shows how much he likes thinking that you belong to him, because he really does believe you’re your own person and not an object to be owned. But here, like this, with your throbbing pussy against this cock and your teary eyes pitifully looking up at him to do something, anything— it brought out a sense of possessiveness in Chan that he never knew he had.

These were the kind of feelings that only you could bring out of him. You were the only one who ever made him feel like this, and the rush of both excitement and fear over it admittedly has him going crazy at times.

But there’s nothing in the world he loves more than knowing you feel exactly the same.

He sees this in the way you tilt your head up, begging for a kiss. It has him breaking out of character, lips tugging up into a fond smile, since he’d planned to be mean and tease you for a bit. But he doesn’t resist when he leans down to kiss you, not when the urge is so strong. Especially not when your smile against his lips felt like the world’s most addicting drug.

Ah, how lucky was he to have fallen in love with you?

“Channie,” you hiccup once he pulls away, and he presses kisses down your shoulder, hiding a smile. This is why he could never be a hard dom with you. One kiss and he’s weak.

“Mhm, I got it, I got it. Just relax for me, yeah? I’ll fill you up real good, sweetheart. Just relax for me.” Chan soothes, pulling back to sit up on his knees.

He grabs a hold of his cock so he could line it up and push in, but then he can’t stop the groan that comes out his throat when the contact eases the pressure on his cock. He hasn’t been touched since you started, and with how wet you were when he pressed against you, he didn’t even need lube. His hand slid up and down easily.

You bit your lip. You were torn between enjoying the godly image of Chan jerking off to the sight of you bent over for him or finally enjoying the feeling of being filled up. Chan pleasuring himself was always a sight to see, veiny arms flexing every time his hand moved.

His eyes fluttered close, and your eyes greedily followed the line of his jaw and the long column of his throat, mouth dry with how much you wanted to suck marks on it.

But you were once again reminded why you can’t, and you were in this position for a reason.

“My end of the deal,” you start, catching your boyfriend’s attention, “was to let myself be fucked six ways to sunday.”

You pause, your hand sliding behind you to slip your own fingers into your soaking pussy. You moan when one finger slips right in, bright eyes meeting Chan’s dark ones.

“Should I have just done that myself?”

Nothing could have prepared you for the way Chan yanked your finger out, gaze hard as he locked both your arms behind you back. He was only holding your arms back with one of his hands, but the grip felt as tight as a rope.

You shiver in anticipation.

“Oh, don’t worry, baby.” Chan hisses, finally pushing his cock inside, easily slipping in with how wet and stretched you were from his fingers.

He moves slowly, determined to make you feel every inch and ridge and vein of his cock against your clenching walls. You squirm and gasp as he pushes and pushes, filling you up so well until his hips are finally flushed against your ass.

“I’ll fuck you so well you’ll feel it here,” he slides his free hand down to your lower stomach, pressing down until he almost feels his cock bulging in you, “and you’ll feel it until next weekend.”

Then he pulls back and thrusts inside again, this time slamming in hard.

You choke on a breath, eyes rolling to the back of your head as Chan goes in deep and fast. The position allowed him to reach inside you deeper than ever, and you almost swear you feel him in your stomach.

He finds your g-spot again in no time, knowing your body better than you do. You jerk in his hold when he does and a scream gets stuck in your throat, and the fact that you could feel Chan’s amusement from your reaction just made it even hotter. You had no time to breath from how hard and fast Chan was fucking you, let alone make a sound.

God, you loved it.

It’s what has you cumming in no more than three more thrusts, mouth gaping like a fish out of water as the knot in your stomach finally snapped. Chan seems to have noticed, given that you were clenching around him like crazy, and the laugh he lets out is so attractive that you feel yourself clench again.

“Aww, already, Y/N?” He teases, making you flush. He sounded smug, and you made a mental note to kick him for it later.

And though he seemed to have noticed your orgasm, Chan doesn’t stop. In fact, he shifts his position and somehow finds a way to push himself in deeper, forcefully pushing a long, drawn out moan from your throat. He makes you ride out your orgasm, eyes staring intently at the way his cock slid in out of you, covered in your juices.

“Shit, Channn,” you groan out his name, voice breaking as he continues to drive his cock into you. “I- ah, ah, Channie, please, I can’t-“

“You can,” Chan grunts out simply, as if he knew your core was already tightening for your second orgasm in a row.

You open your mouth again to plead— for him to stop or keep going? you didn’t know— but then Chan slows down, and you finally manage to suck in the breath you didn’t know you were holding.

Keeping his cock in you, Chan lets go of your arms, both of his hands now sliding under your torso to pull you up. You gasp at the sudden change in position, now sitting back on your knees as Chan’s arm wrapped snugly around your waist.

“Fuck,” Chan grunts in your ear, inhaling through gritted teeth as he thrusts into you again properly. His fingers trail down your hips and up your stomach, hands brushing up and down your skin like he was mapping it out. It tickled, and with every brush of Chan’s hand against a sensitive part of your body, you clench.

He moans lowly, the sound right by your ear and making you shiver. “You open up so well for me. You always do. So perfect for me, beautiful.”

Chan presses heated kisses on your shoulder, hands now gripping your waist tight so he could position you in a way that was pleasurable for both of you. When Chan’s lips trail higher, you subconsciously bear your neck to him, making him smile.

“Please,” you breathe out, your eyes stinging from the almost painful knot in your stomach, back so soon even though you’ve just calmed down.

“Again.” Chan exhales against your ear, hips picking up that demonic pace again. “Cum for me again.”

You moan, nodding mindlessly as Chan pulls you back onto his cock at the same time he thrusts forward. His big cock fills you up in all the right places, brushing against your sweet spot constantly and driving you crazy each time.

Since you were now being held up by Chan himself, you didn’t know what to do with your hands at this point, nails digging into your palms and creating indents.

But Chan, as attentive as ever even when he’s fucking you into oblivion, notices your hand situation and guides your arms upwards, pushing them back until your hands tangle in his hair instead.

The new position worked well for the both of you, because your back was arched to accommodate your arms, and Chan could drive his cock in that good kind of deep again.

Chan’s grunts by your ear just get you even hotter, along with his hisses every time you clench around him. He murmurs dirty praises in your ear, telling you over and over again how good your cunt felt around him and how you were taking him so well and how he’d love nothing more to be buried in you forever, so you’d never feel empty again.

The last straw is when his free hand comes up to your neck, fingers closing around your jaw so he could tilt your head up. You gasps noisily at that, tugging on his hair in surprise. You and Chan have talked about choking before, and though he wasn’t really cutting off your air, the feeling of his hand around your throat was more than enough to get you locking up around him.

Chan coos, lips brushing against your cheek as he talked you towards your orgasm. “That’s it, baby, that’s it. Let me feel you cream around my cock again,” he grunts, pushing through the tight vice-like grip your walls had around him, “Come on, gorgeous. Let me feel it. Want you to cum for me again.”

You sob out Chan’s name, unaware of the tears slipping down your cheeks as you squeezed your eyes shut and came for the second time in a matter of minutes. It was too fast, too sudden, still too sensitive from your last orgasm—

—and it was everything you ever wanted.

Chan immediately slows down when you start spasming around him, letting you ride out your orgasm slowly this time. He continues to murmur praises in your ear, pressing open mouthed kisses on the shoulder nearest to him.

You’re hiccuping and gasping his name, fingers tugging on his hair desperately. You were so lost in pleasure that you don’t notice him slowly pulling out and sitting back on his knees, pulling you back with him. He untangles your hands from his hair gently, and your arms limp at your sides now that you’re slumped over.

Chan brushes your hair back from your sweaty face when your head lolls back, and you easily accept the searing kiss that he presses on your lips. Though you were barely kissing back, breathing too hard to move your lips, you refused to let him pull away.

Chan’s kisses were like air for you during times like this, and you drink them in greedily.

“You were so good for me.” Chan praises once he pulls away, eyes bright as he stares down at you lovingly, thumb brushing against the tear tracks on your cheeks. “My good girl.”

Slipping an arm under your knees, he rearranges your positions so you could lie down on the middle of the bed. Chan lies on his side next to you, one hand propping his head up while the other hand intertwines with yours, squeezing every few seconds.

You were in a limbo, somewhere between still being conscious of your surroundings and feeling floaty, but Chan’s murmured praises and constant touches bring you back to the ground fully.

“Good?” Chan asks, sounding genuine, but you catch the smug look in his eyes.

You laugh quietly in response, eyes rolling good-naturedly, hand coming up to punch him playfully. Chan grins wide, leaning down so he could press a sweet kiss to your lips.

And when he pulls away, he brings your intertwined hands up to his face so he could place a kiss on the back of your hand too. You shudder from the sudden wave of affection going through you, feeling so lucky to be taken care of by someone as caring as Chan.

But. There was one issue.

“Channie,” you exhale, shifting to your side so you could plaster your sweaty body close to his, burying your face in his neck and breathing in his scent.

“Hmm?” He lets go of your hand so he could tuck your hair behind your ear, wanting to see your face.

“You didn’t-“ you start, indicating to the hard-on pressed against your thigh. You hear the breath he sucks in when you grind against it, but then there’s a hand stopping your hips from moving any more.

“We don’t have to.” Chan reassures, referring to your fucked out state as nicely as he could. It made you chuckle, until— “I already made you cry, anyway.”

You swat at his stomach, making him groan and laugh at the same time. He falls back onto the mattress, giggling as he shielded his torso away from your hands.

He was right, though. Your legs were already shaking, and you couldn’t even begin to imagine how sore you would be tomorrow. Not to mention the different bite marks around your body. You look like you’ve just been mauled by a wild animal.

But—

“I want more.” You whine softly, knowing it got to Chan whenever you vocalized what you wanted. You crawl up his body slowly, watching as he licked his lips. You hips lower, sitting right on Chan’s cock and grinding, and you relish in the way his teeth grits.

You lean down, letting your lips brush against his ear before whispering, “Want you to cum in me.”

“Shit,” Chan curses, hands coming up to catch your hips in a bruising grip, halting your movements again. He was definitely holding back for your sake, but you didn’t want that. You had a deal to uphold.

“Come on, daddy.” You purr in his ear, grinning when he tenses again. “Don’t you want to fuck me full of your cum?”

You squeak when Chan flips your positions, him now on top of you and your arms pinned above your head. You breathe heavily, watching as his glazed eyes rake over your marked form, like he was taking you in. Carving the way you look into his memories.

He leans down then, arms caging the sides of your head. “You drive me crazy.” He admits, voice fond despite his heated look, and you blush all the way to the tip of your ears.

“Crazy enough for you to fuck me into the mattress?” You ask, voice tilting up hopefully as you flush, but you’re cut off by your own moan when Chan suddenly spreads your legs and ducks down, tongue licking a fat stripe up your slit.

“Fuck!” You gasp at the sudden attack to your sensitive pussy, head throwing back and hands immediately coming down to grip Chan’s hair. “You- what are you- oh, fuck me.”

You could feel the puffs of breath against your clit as Chan laughed, and you hit him on the back using your foot, annoyed that he was laughing as you lost your mind. He ignores you, swirling and flicking his tongue around the sensitive nub, before continuing to dip his tongue inside you.

The moan he lets out rivals your own, and you gasp as Chan eats pussy like he’s a starved man and it's his first meal, the slurping noises he makes sounding lewd even to your own ears.

You chant his name like a prayer, squirming on the bed as you tug on his hair hard. That only serves to make him moan, which in turn also made you clench again.

“Baby,” you sob, “please. If I don’t get your cock in me, I’ll- I- please.”

Chan finally lets up at that, pressing one last kiss to your swollen clit before he kisses his way up your body.

“Yeah? You need it?” He asks, breathless, but it was clear he wasn’t waiting for an answer. He must be as worked up as you are, because there was no more teasing this time, and you gasp when you feel the head of his cock brushing against your slit.

“What the hell was that,” you demand, voice clipped because Chan was pushing inside you again, testing the waters with miniscule thrusts. You jerk each time.

“Wanted you to shut up.” Chan chuckles, but he’s cut off by his own groan when he feels your hot, velvety walls clamp around him in response. He sucks in a deep breath, feeling how wet you were from both your juices and his spit.

“Shit, baby, how are you still so tight?” Chan sighs contentedly, pressing open mouthed kisses to your cheek. He’s got his upper arms on either side of your head, and you’re so close together that your breasts press against his chest, making you jolt with every brush of your nipples against his pecs. “You fit my cock so well, got me so hard-“

“It’s cause- ah, I’m made for you, shit, right there-” you slur mindlessly, head thrown back from the pleasure as Chan drove straight into your g-spot again and again. The way he hit it so precisely each time should have freaked you out, but you were far too out of your mind with pleasure to think about it.

Chan’s hips falter at the words.

“What did you say, baby? Say that again.” Chan demands, sounding desperate, and you gather all the strength you had left to pick your head up and look up at him. With how close you were, you were pressed nose to nose, Chan leaning down even further so your forehead pressed together. You meet eyes, and you shudder at the intensity of his gaze, suddenly looking much more animalistic than before. Ah.

Bullseye.

“Was made for you.” You murmur again, clearer now, arms coming up to wrap around Chan’s shoulders for leverage as he used you to get to his own orgasm. “I take your cock well because you’ve ruined me for anybody else, Chan,” you admit, eyes shaking. “Nobody’s ever— ever going to make me feel like this. Like you do- oh, fuck!”

You feel Chan bristling at the mention of someone else, and despite your fuzzy mind, you rush to placate him. “I’m yours, baby. Just yours.” you swear, cupping his cheek and forcing him to focus his gaze on you. You needed him to understand. “Any way you want. All of me. I’m all yours.”

Chan’s hips stutter, and he leans down to press your mouths together again. He’s moving too much to have your lips locked in a proper kiss, but he nibbles your lips, breathing heavily as he whispers, “Mine.” over and over again against your jaw.

Your legs come up to wrap around his waist, ankles locking behind him. The pleasure and pain was so blurred that it was making you tear up again, but you pull him closer and beg him to go harder.

There’s a certain urgency to his thrusts now, more frantic and more desperate now that he’s let himself go, and you relish in his unrestrained groans and moans mixing with your own.

“Y/N,” he calls, voice guttural, and just the sounds of his fucked out voice saying your name has you tightening immediately again, making both you and Chan gasp. “Shit, baby, wait, I’m close- where-“

“Inside.” You beg, now nose to nose to Chan as he leaned his forehead on top of yours, eyes searching frantically. “Inside. I told you earlier, didn’t I?”

Chan groans, a loud and raw sound that vibrates against your chest, especially when he ducks his head down to the side so you were cheek to cheek now. You feel his teeth nip at your earlobe, low moans loud in your ear as his thrusts get more sloppy and uncoordinated.

“Y/N, are you-“

“I’m sure, Chan.” You turn your head, and your lips brush against his ear when you beg, “cum inside me. I want to feel it, want you to fuck your cum back into me. Please.”

Chan grunts, cock pulsing inside you at the thought. He was so close— teetering right at the edge as you continued to clench around him and whisper filthy things in his ear.

The last straw is when you tug his head back just in time, forcibly making your gazes meet when you whisper,

“Please, baby. Remind me that I’m yours.”

Chan’s jaw clenches, teeth grinding together as he finally stills and pumps his cum into you. The first spurt has you gasping noisily, clutching onto Chan tightly as he fills you up. You maintain eye contact for one glorious moment, but Chan’s eyes eventually flutter shut due to the overwhelming pleasure. You watch as his head lolls back, throat working out grunts and moans, complete bliss on his face.

The look is what triggers your fourth and final orgasm; dry and painfully, painfully good.

When he picks his head back up, your lips meet in a bruising kiss, tongues sliding against each other and teeth clacking as you both ride out your orgasm, him milking his cock inside you.

If you were filled before, you were bursting at the seams now.

Chan doesn’t pull out for a couple of minutes, the both of you catching your breath. But when he does finally pull out you immediately hiss, clearly oversensitive.

You clench unconsciously, but it’s no use, because you’re already shuddering from the feeling of Chan’s cum trailing out your hole.

Chan swallows, eyes staring intently at the way you clenched and unclenched with his cum dripping out of you, and he curses when his spent dick gives an interested twitch.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you croak out, shaking as you stretch your legs out. “If you so much as touch me right now, I might pass out.”

Chan’s lips quirk at the playfulness in your tone, but he knew there was some truth to your words. So he asks you if he can go get something to clean you up, only moving when you give him a clear response of yes. He’s back with a clean, damp cotton towel a minute later, as well as a bottle of water.

You groan in thanks when he makes you drink, patiently waiting until you’re finished to call your attention.

“Baby,” he calls, and you turn your head to face him. He holds the towel up as a form of a question, and you sigh, knowing it was better than nothing. You weren’t in any position to shower right now.

“Be careful, pl-“

“Shh.” Chan smoothes, starting by rubbing a thumb on your thigh. You were so high-strung that even that simple touch startled you, but Chan takes his sweet time and doesn’t rush you, distracting you with kisses every time you spasm.

He finishes cleaning you up soon enough, doing all the work and refusing to let you lift even a finger. You end up cuddled together after, just basking in each other’s warmth and your post-orgasm glows.

Sex with Chan was always amazing, because no matter how slow or how hard and fast you two went, it always ended in sweet kisses and cuddling. Chan never takes his hands off you, not even for a second, always attentive to your needs and wants. You wouldn’t trade it for anything in the whole wide world.

In the background, a phone pings, jolting you out of your daze.

“Babe,” Chan calls when he unlocks his phone, chuckling under his breath. “I really did fuck you six ways to sunday.”

You prop your head up on his arm, peering up at his phone lazily. The first thing you see is a picture of you on the lockscreen, taken from when you were napping on his studio couch. The second thing you see is the time and date.

Sunday, 1:34 am.

You snort, turning away from the harsh glare of his phone to bury your face in his bicep. “That wasn’t even six. That was like— three. Or four at most. I don’t know. I blacked out.”

Chan snickers, locking his phone and tossing it on the nightstand. He’ll deal with the notifications tomorrow. For now...

He turns back to you, lips tugging into a smirk as he trails the tip of his fingers down your back, making you shudder.

“Wanna make it six, then? We still have time.”

You immediately yelp, slapping his hand away and rolling off him. You wiggle under the covers, tucking it around you to shield your body away from Chan’s hands.

“Are you crazy?! I can’t even feel my lower half!” You squawk, glaring at him from where you’re peeking behind the covers.

Chan laughs, that squeaky loud laugh you love that has his whole body shaking and eyes crinkling. He crawls over to you and nuzzles his face on top of your head, giggles pressing against your hair.

“Babyyy,” he whines, still laughing. “Let me in. I’m cold.”

You narrow your eyes at him playfully. “What will you trade me?”

Chan’s eyebrows wiggle. “Your blanket for my body.”

You groan in disgust, turning your body away from your laughing boyfriend. Chan usually thinks he’s soooo hilarious, and he believes you do too.

Hiding, you bite back a smile.

“Yah,” he complains now, wrapping his lanky limbs around your burrito looking form from behind. “Come out already. I wanna cuddle.”

You wiggle out the covers soon enough, because you truthfully wanted to cuddle too, and plus, Chan’s pecs were nice to lie on. He welcomes you in his arms easy, huffing out a laugh when you smooch one of his pecs lovingly.

“I’m kinda hungry.” You admit after a few minutes, making Chan groan in disbelief.

“You’re insatiable. There’s no end to that stomach, is there?” Chan asks rhetorically, and you open your mouth to answer because you want to annoy him, but Chan catches you before you could. His hand comes up to cover your mouth, though his hand was so big that he ends up covering your nose as well. “Nope. Shut up. Quiet now.”

You laugh behind his hand, squirming and struggling until he finally relents when you lick his palm. And as if he didn’t just fuck his cum into you earlier, Chan scrunches his face and says, “Gross.”

You scoff. “You fuck me well into the next day and you’re expecting me not to get hungry?!”

“But this kitchen is so far,” Chan whines, even though you didn’t really ask him to get food for you. You’re just about to tell him that, when he adds, “-but fine. I’ll miss you for all the time that it takes you to get food.”

Chan flops back on the bed, eyes shut and clearly expecting you to leave. You squawk, pretending to be offended and swatting at his chest. “You’re just going to let your girlfriend go out into the night like that?! When I can’t even walk?!”

Chan opens one eye, amused. “The night is just 15 steps away.”

“Fine.” you huff, scooting back to your position. You drop your head down on Chan’s chest-- hard-- making him yelp. “I wasn’t even that hungry anyway. And we don’t even have food.”

He laughs, hand automatically finding its way to your hair. “I’ll get you whatever you want tomorrow, I promise. We’ll get brunch on the way to getting groceries, okay? How about that?”

You sniffle. “I want chicken.”

Chan rolled his eyes, but there was no heat behind it, just fondness. “Then we’ll get chicken.”

“‘kay.”

You sigh happily, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of Chan’s fingers carding through your hair. His pecs were the perfect pillows, and combined with your post-sex exhaustion and Chan’s warmth, you were sure you were about to fall sleep. Dreamland was one step away, and you’re just about to fall into the waiting arms of a deep sleep when suddenly--

Chan’s stomach growls. Loud.

You burst out laughing, body curling up and shaking as you turn to Chan, who was hiding his face behind his arms in embarrassment.

“And I’m the insatiable one?”

“Not one word.” Chan huffs, refusing to meet your eyes as he grabs some clothes to throw at you. They land on your face, a move you knew was deliberate because you were still giggling.

Chan was the cutest when he was flustered, and even in the dim lighting of your room, you could see how red his ears were.

So you both bundle up— in only a few articles of clothing since it was an unusually hot night— just for the sake of looking decent. Chan wiggles in some sweatpants, and you slip on his shirt and boxers.

When you get up from the bed, Chan-- ever the gentleman that he is-- genuinely panics when you flail due to your legs buckling, and his arms are around you holding you up before you could even blink.

“You really can’t walk?” Chan asks, sounding hilariously horrified.

“No-” you laugh, “don’t look so scared. You didn’t break me, idiot. I can definitely still walk, just let me get used to it.”

But Chan seemed to think otherwise, because suddenly, your feet are off the ground and you’re being carried bridal style. You yelp, arms coming up to lock around Chan’s neck so you don’t fall.

“What.” This is the second time you’ve been carried to the kitchen in under a day, courtesy of your muscly boyfriend who seemed to think picking people up was something you can do casually.

“It’d take too long. I’m hungry.” Chan huffs, and you roll your eyes, amused. Chan could be a baby when he was hungry, and this was evident in how he rummages through the fridge with little huffs after he sets you down.

“There’s nothing to eat.” He sighs, as if the both of you didn’t already know that.

You groan, leaning against the counter. “I’m pretty sure we have ice cream?”

“That’s not very healthy.” Chan frowns, but opens the freezer door anyway and grabs the tub when he sees it.

You only turn around for a second to get a spoon, but when you face Chan again, he’s already sitting cross-legged on the floor, brows furrowed as he attempts to use the lid to scoop out some ice cream. You huff out a breath, exasperated and fond at the same time.

He looks up at the sound, then grins when you meet eyes. He opens his arms then, beckoning you over, and you carefully sit between his legs. Chan shifts a little bit to the side, hooking his chin on your shoulder. You move your hair to the other side so it won’t bother Chan, and he presses a quick peck to your now exposed cheek in thanks.

You yelp when Chan places the icy tub on your bare thighs, then glare when he just giggles. Chan’s shirt was huge on you, so he pulled it over your knees, giving the tub of ice cream a blanket of sorts to sit on and sparing your thighs.

Then, he takes the spoon from your hand, stabbing it through the iced treat with all the strength of a man who works out.

It barely pokes through. The ice cream was too frozen.

But you still wow exaggeratedly in an attempt to boost his ego, squealing when Chan digs his free hand on your side and tickles you. The spoon still gets a tiny, tiny bit of ice cream though, and you hate that you still blush when Chan feeds it to you.

“I think we have to wait for this to melt.” Chan says, blowing on the tub. Your eyebrows were furrowed in confusion, giggling.

“Why are you blowing on it, then?”

“Why am I- oh.”

You laugh at the dumbstruck expression on Chan’s face, finally realizing he was unconsciously blowing on frozen ice cream. Your laugh echoes throughout the apartment, and it’s only at that moment that you realized how quiet it was. The refrigerator hums beside you two, but other than that and some cars passing by outside, it was complete silence.

You realize how dark it was too, the only light sources coming from the refrigerator, and your bedroom.

“Shouldn’t we turn on the light?” You ask, and Chan looks up from where he’s violently stabbing the ice cream.

“Eh. Fridge works. Plus it’s hot, so I’m not closing this.” Chan shrugs, then pauses when he sees the look on your face. He chuckles, pulling you closer to him by the waist. “Don’t be scared, baby. I’m right here, remember?”

“I’m not scared,” you scoff, but scoot closer to Chan anyway.

The ice cream eventually melts enough for the spoon to dig in, and you and Chan take turns feeding each other. Chan had his back against some drawers, while you were tucked between Chan’s legs, head on his shoulder and ice cream tub on your stomach. The condensation was wetting your shirt and making the cold seep to your stomach, but you didn’t mind. You were too comfortable to move.

Chan was making a habit of kissing you after he fed you a spoon, and you liked the feeling of his cold lips tasting like strawberries more than you’d like to admit. Some tongue slips in after a while, but it doesn’t go any further than that, both of you too exhausted.

The dim light of the fridge casts a yellowish hue on yours and Chan’s lower halves, creating shadows. You play with that for a moment, wiggling your legs and making shadow puppets of animals with your hands. Chan watches you silently, so silent that you think for a moment that he’d fallen asleep.

But then he drops the spoon into the tub— and all while keeping his other arm around your waist— reaches a hand out to the light so it creates a shadow, and shapes his hand into…

...half of a heart.

You grin stupidly, and the way your heart rattles inside your chest shouldn’t be normal. At all. You had to get checked out. This was the type of cheesy things Chan loved to do daily, yet you reacted to each and every one of them like it’s his first time doing so.

He loved leaving heart doodles on the whiteboard by the fridge that had your schedules in it, particularly hearts that were next to your name. He dedicates songs to you, writes about you, and even sings to you when you want him to. He stops by the practice room when he knows you’re inside, slipping in quickly to say hello and kiss your forehead, uncaring of the loud teasing from trainees.

But if you couldn’t say hello, if you were in the middle of something, he always, always made sure to leave a heart on the mirrors that were fogged up from intense dancing. Sometimes it would just be a heart, sometimes it was a doodle. Other times it was a message like; good luck, or see you at lunch, or hey sexy with a winking face.

Most of the time, it’s three simple words.

I love you, it would read.

“Yah,” Chan complains, jolting you out of your sappy stupor. “Are you going to leave me hanging?”

He’s frowning now, wiggling the little half heart around impatiently. You grin at that, muttering about how he was being a baby and making him huff. But then you finally reach forward, painfully aware of how your heart jumped from doing this one simple action.

You complete the heart, and you both watch the shadow that it forms.

Chan sighs happily, turning his head to press a quick, cold kiss to your cheek. You knew the heart wasn’t going to stay for long, since your arms would get tired, but Chan doesn’t break the heart to pull away.

Instead, he intertwines your fingers, letting the shadow from some weird version of your hands together, and it’s only then that he brings your hands back. You grin as you lean back against him again, Chan wrapping both arms around your waist and kissing the top of your head.

At 2:04 am, you sit with Chan on the kitchen floor, the refrigerator both illuminating and cooling your bodies, empty ice cream tub beside you.

2:08 am, Chan carries you back to your bedroom. Not because you couldn’t walk still, but because he loved the feeling of you in his arms, head tucked safely into the crook of his neck.

2:09 am, you and Chan slip under the covers, and you giggle when he scolds you about kicking off the blanket in your sleep. You placate him with a kiss and a promise to keep him warm.

And at 2:16 am on a Sunday, after a couple more kisses and hushed sweet nothings, you end up with your ear pressed against Chan’s chest, the beating of his heart combined with his quiet breathing lulling you sleep.

Chan stays awake for a couple minutes more, ensuring you were comfortable and finally resting. He wraps his around you when you shift in your sleep, hand automatically cupping the back of your head. Keeping you close, right where his heart was. He knew you weren’t going anywhere, but every second with you was something he knew he had to treasure.

“Y/N,” he sighed, burying his face in your hair. “I love you. So much. Too much, I think. Sometimes I love you so much that I don’t know what to do with myself.” he pauses, swallowing. “Honestly… just saying it doesn’t feel enough anymore. How can I show you I love you? At this point, I want to grab every person in the street and list out all the reasons why.”

He snorts at the mental image, shoulders shaking with quiet laughter. “That sounds a bit crazy, isn’t it? I have an infinite number of reasons… so if I do that to every single person, how long would that take me? Huh. Should I really do the math on that?” he pauses, then: “God, even in your sleep you’re driving me crazy.”

You murmur something in your sleep, catching his attention. You were mumbling nonsense, but when his hand cups your cheek, you quiet down.

Smiling wistfully, he adds, “but... I don’t care. Really, Y/N, I’ll give you all my love if it means staying like this with you forever.”

Pressing one last kiss to your forehead, Chan finally gets comfortable and closes his eyes.

He’s much more vulnerable when he knows you’re asleep because he’d be too flustered if you replied, but the responding snore you give him a few seconds later makes him laugh again. Maybe you were unconsciously trying to respond to him, maybe you were just really deep in dreamland.

Either way, Chan falls asleep with a smile on his face, and the love of his life in his arms.

Sunday, 12:47 pm.

The brunch Chan had promised turns into a late lunch, because by the time you both woke up the next-- the same?-- day, it was already quarter past noon.

True to your predictions last night, you were sore. Chan runs you a hot bath, genuinely looking worried now, but you assure him that it wasn’t something that a few painkillers couldn’t fix. But he still looked uneasy, so you raised an eyebrow.

“What, you’re gonna regret the way you fucked me until I cried?”

Chan turns as red as a tomato, and you laugh as he spins on his heel and leaves you in the bathroom, shouting something about getting the medicine.

It did hurt, but you kind of liked it, considering the reason why you were sore. Chan frowns and questions why you were red in the face when he gets back, worried you were getting a fever, but you just flush even more and shoo him away.

When you get out of the bath, the first thing that greets you is the smell of chicken. Chan must have ordered while you bathed, and your heart warms at the thought of your boyfriend remembering your hunger and craving for chicken.

That is, until you find Chan on the couch already munching on a drumstick. He looks up at you in alarm when you walk in, face guilty.

“God, you’re insatiable.” You mock with your best impression of Chan’s voice, and the attempt makes him laugh too much to be mad about it.

You gorge yourselves on chicken and soda, some reruns of an anime you both love playing on the TV. You’re barely paying attention, more focused on the fan you had turned on blowing cool air on your face and the feeling of Chan massaging your feet.

You don’t even notice that you drifted off, jolting awake to the sound of an explosion coming from the TV. You must have been asleep for a while, because the table was clear of any takeout boxes and soda cans. At that moment, Chan comes out of the bathroom, freshly showered. He smiles when he sees you squinting at him, disoriented and half awake.

“Come on, baby. Time to get groceries.”

You didn’t bother to dress up much, considering it was hot out and you were not about to put fashion first and experience a possible heat stroke. So you steal another one of Chan’s shirts, ignoring his half-hearted protests.

He had plenty of other shirts. He could use those.

Chan gives you a look when you come bounding out of the bedroom in his shirt, but you knew he liked his clothes on you. The pink tinging his cheeks was more than enough proof. Plus, you had a diversion.

“Help me?” You ask, and Chan tilts his head, confused. But then you bring out a box, velvet and rectangular and blue.

It was the box that holds the necklace Chan gifted you for your birthday, and considering your profession, you couldn’t wear it everyday, hating the thought of it being drenched in sweat or god forbid, breaking while you dance.

So you wear it on your off days, keeping it in the box most of the time to be safe. Chan chuckles, smiling stupidly as he takes the necklace out the box, snorting when you scold him to be careful with it.

“Alright, alright. Just turn around, will you?” You huff, but turn around obediently, moving your hair away so Chan could do it easily. The cool metal of the necklace settling against your neck has you shivering, but so does the soft kiss that Chan presses on your exposed nape and shoulder. The pendant— a compass— sits between your collarbones, and you hold it between your fingers gently, feeling giddy.

Chan watches you with a soft smile for a few seconds, taking you in. It’s only when he notices the time that he regretfully bursts your bubble, grabbing your attention with a kiss to your cheek and taking your free hand in his.

“Ready?” he asks, eyes shining, and your heart flutters.

“Yeah.” You smile, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. “Let’s go.”

And though your diversion had worked for a moment, you knew yourself that it wouldn’t last. Chan still complains as you walk down the street, intertwined hands swinging between you, talking about how he had nothing to wear.

“You should just walk around shirtless then.” You suggest, winking, and you barely manage to stop an embarrassing shriek when Chan pretends to trip you. There was no way you were going to fall though, because Chan had a tight grip on your arms, but you still punch him on the shoulder for it.

Chan reacts dramatically, exaggerating his yelp of pain, as if he didn’t have hard muscle surrounding his entire body. You roll your eyes, leaving him on the sidewalk, ignoring his calls of your name mixed with his laughter.

You laugh and stumble on the way to the grocery store like idiots, and the time it took for you to get there probably took twice the time than it originally would, with how much you two were goofing off. But you do eventually get there in one piece, albeit breathless and giggly.

You guys had no specific routine for grocery shopping, just that there was a limit to snacks, and it was 5 for each of you. No more than that.

(This rule is usually never followed, but you guys keep it and remind each other of it at the entrance, just for the sake of acting like you were responsible adults who could control their cravings and knew how to stick to their budget.)

Thus, grocery shopping with you was always an experience, because you and Chan were both very passionate about food and would sometimes have different opinions. It would end in tiny fights, but it gets resolved just as quickly as it starts.

Either Chan relents because you looked cute and he secretly wants it, or you relent because Chan looked cute and you secretly want it.

So more often than not, other shoppers would find two people disputing in the middle of some aisle, and it’s just the two of you hissing back and forth about the pros and cons of a certain product.

Like now.

“We don’t eat that cereal. You don’t even like how it tastes.”

“You don’t like how it tastes. I ate the entire bag when we last bought this.”

Chan raises an eyebrow. “And did you do that willingly?”

“Well, no, but-” You stomp your foot, frustrated. All the tantrum does is bring a smile to Chan’s face, which wasn’t what you wanted. You weren’t being cute. You needed him to understand. “Ah, you know I don’t like wasting food!”

“So, why, pray tell, do you want to buy that?”

“Because-” you start, and Chan flicks his gaze down to the cereal in your hands, confused. But then you turn the box around and-

Ah.

“Look,” you point at the bowl stuck on the back of the box, grinning excitedly. “They have an ugly black cat now.”

Simply put, the box that you were holding was a brand of cereal that was for kids, and the taste of the actual cereal was too medicine-y for you and Chan. However, the sole reason you had bought one before is because of the freebie the cereal came with, a small plastic bowl with a white cat painted on it.

To be honest, the cat was kind of ugly and terrifying looking, but you were drawn to it for inexplicable reasons. Chan, who was unknowing of the taste of the cereal at that time, simply nodded and let you take the box home.

The cereal itself was crossed out from the very first taste, but you’ve both grown fond of the ugly white cat bowl, sometimes using it for non-cereal things.

(Like wine, after a long, long day at work. It typically consists of the bowl being passed back and forth between you two, instead of just chugging the entire bottle down like animals. You both had too much class for that.)

Chan sighs exasperatedly, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers. But your excitement was infectious, and he finds himself smiling at the ugly little thing too.

Still, he tries to be the responsible adult and reasons, “you’re already 3 snacks past the limit. Plus, don’t we already have a bowl at home?”

“I know we do! But look at this black cat, Channie. Ugly White Cat can get a friend, plus if we get another bowl, that means we can match. Matching ugly cat bowls.” You explain, holding the box up to his face and wiggling it. “Think about it.”

And Chan did think about it for a moment. You really didn’t need another bowl, having plenty enough for the two of you and possible guests, but the prospect of matching with you…

And ugly white cat did look kind of lonely...

Fuck. He was getting too weak for this. You look at him with wide eyes, pleading and seemingly innocent, but you knew what effect that had on him.

He sighs, but there’s a smile on his face when he grumbles. “Fine.”

You cheer, pressing a long kiss to his cheek before you scramble away again, mentioning something about juice boxes.

Chan watches you skip down the aisle, grinning at the way your arms clutched the cereal box close to your chest, as if someone was going to take it away from you. He watches until you reach the end, crouching down at the selection of juice boxes.

He knew you took your juice box selection very seriously, evident in the way you were frowning and reading label packages. You looked kind of ridiculous, Chan’s old shirt bunched around your waist and a cereal box with some toy for kids tucked in your arms.

His shirt, which was entirely too big for you, starts sliding down your shoulders due to your crouched position. This reveals your neck, and he flushes when he sees memories of last night blooming on your skin.

And even from this distance, he sees the necklace and the way it glints, making you look much more ethereal.

After a few seconds, you apparently read something you didn’t like, because your head snaps up suddenly, catching Chan’s attention just so you could point at a box and make a disgusted face.

Chan laughs, despite not knowing what the hell you just pointed to. But you seem to be satisfied by his response, because you grace him with the prettiest smile, the one that he loved among your many other smiles— the one that makes your eyes crinkle and your cheeks bigger.

Chan’s breath catches in his throat at the sight. Something in his heart sings.

He loves you. He was so in love with you that it hurt, and he wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of his life by your side. To sleep with you, wake up with you, argue about groceries in pajamas with you, have matching ugly cat bowls with you, and come home with you— all of that. Always.

So when you turn back to your juice boxes, Chan hurriedly pulls out his phone, scrolling through his contact list quickly and tapping the call button on a familiar name.

Chan and you meet eyes again when you hold up two juice boxes of different flavors for him to pick. He knows immediately that you picked the orange one because he likes it, but Chan also knows that you couldn’t stand the orange flavor. So he tilts his head to the right, choosing apple.

You blink in surprise, but he could tell you were trying to hide the fact that you were giddy he picked apple. He smiles softly, heart singing again.

On his phone, the call he made finally picks up on the fifth ring.

“Hey, Bin? You busy? No, no, we’re fine. Yeah, I just-- remember the jewellery shop we went to last month? Do you still have their address? Yeah, that one. I threw mine out because I didn’t want Y/N to suspect anything.”

A pause, then he snorts, “I’m aware I just bought her a necklace, yes. But I’m not buying a necklace this time. Really. Yeah, um. Well, I think I—“ Chan swallows, eyes nervously going back to you.

You had both the cereal and juice box in your arms now, seemingly on your way back to Chan, but then you get distracted by free samples of cheese. You pretend to reject the offer for a moment, but falter in your step when the saleslady tries again. Chan snorts softly when you take five samples unashamedly, heart singing louder.

Will you wait for me? / Of course. You know I always will.

You were the only one who ever made him feel like this.

Honestly… just saying it doesn’t feel enough anymore. How can I show you I love you?

I’ll give you all my love if it means staying like this with you forever.

Your eyes meet again. You’ve balanced the plate of cheese on top of your boxes, face looking all too proud and excited as you gestured to the cheese, beckoning him over. He nods, indicating he’ll be there, and you go back to talking animatedly with the saleslady.

“Hyung?” Changbin’s voice on the other line calls, waiting for him to continue. “You think...?”

“Ah, no… I’m sure.” Chan smiles giddily, heart now creating symphonies in his chest. He’s never been more sure in his life.

All of this. Always.

“A ring. I’m buying a ring.”

#bang chan x reader #stray kids x reader #bang chan smut #bang chan fluff #stray kids imagines #bang chan imagines #stray kids smut #storiesatsea #me: scared of commitment #also me: indicates a wedding in 2/4 of my fics #chan i have feelings for u #stray kids #bang chan as a boyfriend #stray kids as boyfriends #stray kids fluff #stray kids au #skz au #skz imagines

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