#it will never be the 90s again. it will never be the 00s again. i'm sorry.

[alphabetboyluvr]

the curious lifespan of migrating monarchs - jjk

THE CURIOUS LIFESPAN OF MIGRATING MONARCHS (& other aurelian affairs)

pairing: streamer!jk x international student!female oc (s2l)

warnings: strangers to lovers, clubbing, foul language, alcohol, vaping lol, jungkook is kinda famous, the oc is oblivious, the oc is also a foreign student who has very recently arrived in Korea!! (pls note - while i've been in korean uni dorms, i've never been in yonsei dorms specifically so don't shout at me if it isn't supeeeerr accurate), jaykay is speaking in eng for like 90% of this!!, i've also never watched a gaming streamer and had to do so for research lmao so there's a lot of guesswork going awwwn <3, the oc has tattoos, they bond over this, cute nicknames (tokki and nabi <3), one bed trope?? kinda, jaykay lives w/ yoongi and tae (they are streamers too (and dj?? (tae is a bit unhinged))), jungkook wears calvins!, a singular appearance of yoongi in his boxers!!, tipsy hookup, fingering, protected sex (woo!), desk sex, oral (m receiving), girliepop swallows <3, brief mentions of jungkook's starry eyes, lots of kisses, bunny ears, (1) mention of cross-fit

wordcount: 13011

note from holly: this was a commission done for the lovely Michelle over on my kofi page!! i don't open commissions often, but when I do I'm very lucky that the requests are so much fun. this actually ended up being way longer than it was supposed to be lol and is also available on wattpad!! also fun facts for you - I imagine the boys apartment (and jks room!) to be same as jk + jimins place in BD, just a little bigger lmao

minors dni // cross posted to wattpad

CLUB SUNDOWN WAUSAN-RO, HONGDAE SATURDAY 02:24

Time ceases to exist after the sun goes down in Seoul. It could be two, or it could be five. The only thing that really clues you in on the actual time is the DJ schedule that lights up behind the decks: 02:00-03:00, Blu-Tae.

It's some guy you've never heard of. Looks no older than you. Probably a student, just like the rest of the crowd.

His hair is as blue as his namesake, which does make you smile, and his choices aren't bad either (even if somewhat questionable). You've never heard a jazz remix of Darude's Sandstorm before, and you doubt you ever will again.

Club Sundown is just as rogue as the rest of the city after the sun goes down. Hidden in the basement—like all the best places in Seoul are—the small room is packed to the absolute brim.

Who cares for views and sunsets offered by rooftop bars when you could lose yourself in the debauchery of an eternal midnight, instead?

Drinks are spilt on strangers, and dances have lost the grandeur of old-fashioned waltzes. It's not like you could dance properly, even if you wanted to. There's just simply no space.

Like Alice, you're down the rabbit hole—and oh, how you prefer it to being in the real world. In the shadows, you can be anyone you like.

If you were sober, you'd know this is also the case for daily life. You're in a new country with no ties to your former self. Who you are is who you choose to be.

But the shadows aren't all that dark. The red lights of the club bleed into the cracks, painting everyone in the same subtle hue of danger.

They shine a little light on the identifiers of you; the thin black lines of your patchwork tattoos. Trailing up your arm, they're memories of your past selves, and an indicator of who you hope to become.

"Down this," you say to your dormmate, Rae, handing back over the drink you've just ordered from the bar. "Cloakroom, then dance."

Still carrying your winter coats, you'd wanted to check the place out before committing to it. Entry is free, but the cloakroom is the same price as a drink. It would only be worth putting your coats away if you knew you wanted to stay—and given the fact the DJ was playing O-Zone's Dragostea Din Tei as you entered, you know it's a no-brainer. While his stage name might make you roll your eyes a little, Blu-Tae certainly does cater to your tastes. When you're drunk, and music vibrates through you, it's empyrean. No place you'd rather be.

"Oh, Jesus," Rae gags as she sips the drink you've just handed her. Despite her disgust, she's laughing. Head to toe in black, dark hair loose around her shoulders, she's been your ride-or-die since you arrived in Seoul. Both international students in the same dorm, there's no one you'd rather get up to no good with. "Vodka?!"

You beam at her like you're from the heavens above, wrongfully relegated to the depths of sin. Pretend like you love vodka. It's totally not like you panicked when you saw the menu was all in Korean.

Vodka-coke is a universally understood delicacy—the easiest thing for you to order without making a tit of yourself or butchering the pronunciation. When the bartender ignored your botched attempt at ordering in Korean and answered in fluent English, you'd wanted to melt into the floor. So embarrassing.

You're here, like most foreign students, for a language course. Semester is yet to start, and as much as you've studied and practised hard, it's always different when putting it into practice.

"I'm sorry," you laugh. "It's fine—you can order next time!"

But Rae has the exact same predicament as you. If anything, your language skills are better than hers, so you really have no hope. It's vodka-cokes for the evening, or maybe highballs. Once your tipsy brain manages to compute hangul cocktail names, you'll be golden, but that won't be for another few weeks, yet.

You'll look back at this time of your life fondly, realising how simple it all was, even if it feels incredibly overwhelming right now.

Funnily enough, hope is exactly what you have: for the semester ahead, for this new life you're forging, for the opportunities that may come your way.

In fact, by the time you're on your third vodka coke, you've managed to convince yourself you actually like it. You also can't taste it, thanks to the bartender freepouring a 60-40 ratio of vodka to coke in the first drink. Your tastebuds were wiped out pretty much instantly.

Coats in the cloakroom, you're glad to be wearing thin layers. The room is stuffy; your skin sweaty. While meeting new friends had been the goal, you keep to yourself. Dance like nobody is watching. Hold Rae's hands to stay close and ward off weirdos. Quickly realise that clubs back home are slightly different. Pay it no mind. Ignore the intrusions of hands on waists, because men, disappointingly, are no different.

Or at least most of them aren't.

But most of them don't look like the man in the corner booth, laughing with his friends.

Though he is tall, he's eclipsed by his demeanour. Shoulders broad, he's in a dark T-shirt and pair of jeans. Nothing special. Nothing that warrants such a perplexed stare from you - but he's familiar. You can't place him, but he's got the kind of face you swear you've seen before.

Rae doesn't notice the change in your poise, nor how you're desperately trying to work out where you know him from. Perhaps you've seen him around your university? It's only been a couple of weeks, but people are steadily moving in. Maybe he works at the convenience store you constantly find yourself in? Or mans the front desk of the noraebang you and Rae visit pretty much every other evening?

Impossible, you think. If you'd seen him before, you wouldn't have forgotten him, or the way he constantly toys with his lip rings. Plural. There are signs up around the place stating bar rules. NO SMOKING is rule number three. You've seen his friends pass him over a vape a handful of times. Anyone else, and you'd think it was cringe. Embarrassing.

But in the midst of his laughter settling, and a fresh toke being inhaled, his eyes flicker towards yours.

Perhaps it's just because you're drunk, but you don't avert your gaze. Show no shame. The smile on his lips sinks into a smirk as he exhales. An acknowledgement. A 'hello, trouble'.

Again, any other man, you'd find the vape smoke repugnant. Nasty. Now? Watching the way he flicks his tongue against his lip rings?

You wanna know how it tastes.

Black ink weaves an intricate outline of who he is up his arms. Where he's been. Who he's been. A map, if you will, of his soul.

Much like your own tattoos, he's got thick black lines, and little else. Simple, you assume. A man of convenience. Efficiency.

You wonder if he does everything in life with the precision to match his tattoos, and as your lips wrap around the straw of your vodka-coke, you decide you'd quite like to find out.

Interrupted by Rae pulling you deeper into the crowd, your night is spent in and out of shadows. Attempt subtlety. Try not to make your occasional glances to the corner booth noticeable, just checking if his eyes are still on you. More often than not, they aren't—but sometimes they are, and that's enough to fuel your little flirt.

It's not until the sign behind the DJ booth changes from 03:00-04:00, GLOSS into some other guy that you notice your staring contest opponent has slipped into the shadows himself. The booth is void of both him and his friends. Gone.

"GLOSS has a set at another club," Rae all but yells in your ear, and even then, you barely hear her. "All the hotties left when he did. Let's go."

"Where to?!" You laugh, empty cup in hand. Admittedly, the new guy who's stepped into the DJ booth is just not doing it for you. Blu-Tae was just the right amount of unhinged with classics, whereas GLOSS was definitely cooler, but still fun. Had the club yelling curse words over trap remixes just for the fun of it. This new guy, whose name you don't care to remember, takes himself too seriously, you think.

"It's, like, two blocks down," she yells back, tugging on your wrist to drag you to the stairwell that leads you back up to the streets of Seoul. The hustle and bustle of people trying to go in different directions in the tight place forces you apart, but you figure you'll catch up with her, or that she'll be waiting at the top.

You don't know the roads well enough yet to make it to whichever club it's at alone, and quickly realise when you nearly tumble into the side of a waiting taxi that you're far drunker than expected. Knew the bartender was freepouring, but didn't realise just how free those pours really were.

"Woah, easy trouble," a deep voice sounds from behind you as you're steadied to a more stable position.

"I'm good, I'm good!" You insist, shaking off the hands of your 'saviour'. Have no interest in being a damsel in distress, or some sober guy trying to take advantage of you.

Looking down to check your laces are tied properly, you check over your shoulder to make sure the guy isn't creepily waiting for a thank you that he can turn into an intrusive game of 21 questions—'are you open-minded?' or 'do you live alone?'—but when you glance in his direction, you regret it. Notice the tattoos immediately. Recognise the eyes. Want to die.

"Oh."

"Oh," he says back with a smile, imitating you. Suddenly, the confidence you'd had earlier when looking at him from afar dissolves into nothingness, just like the alcohol in your bloodstream. You feel rather sober, but your body would definitely disagree. "You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," you nod, suddenly a little stuck for words, desperately trying to play things cool. "Are you okay?"

The pouting of his lips as his tongue runs along the inside of his cheek only serves to make you internally cringe. Men who look like him have no business being on streets like this. Should be in a museum. Strung up on the walls with the other masterpieces. Admired by everyone who looks his way.

In a way you don't yet realise, he is.

Though he's not in galleries, he's often burning into people's laptop screens. Is the background of a fair few thousand lock screens. Indeed, he is admired by everyone who looks his way, just not in the traditional sense.

"I'm not the one who just fell into a car," he reminds you, as if you could forget your embarrassment so quickly.

"Was just seeing if you'd catch me," you bullshit, the confidence you usually have returning tenfold. Was just a momentary blip. He's just a man, after all.

"Oh?" He chirps, decidedly curious. "So you fell for me?"

"Stumbled."

"Semantics."

His fluency, and the fact he just said 'semantics' so casually in conversation, clues you in on the fact he might be a language student, too. 

Could be useful study partners for each other, you think, then mentally berate yourself for already masterminding ways to see him again.

"So, where you going?" He asks, not caring to downplay his curiosity. The bartenders were free-pouring his drinks just as severely as they poured yours. The only difference is that his were on the house—'cause you were right. He does have a recognisable face. "Should probably go with you. Make sure you don't fall into the road."

"Stumble," you insist, a little pleased with the boldness of his suggestion, but not wanting to blindly agree. "My friend," you say glancing around, only to find yourself completely alone. "She wanted to go catch the next GLOSS set. So, I guess that's where we're going."

"Just down the road," he says, knowing the schedule like the back of his hand. Bounces from club to club supporting his friends, just like they would for him. If he wanted, he could get a slot up there, too. He doesn't care for it. "I'll walk with you, if you want? My friends are heading there anyway."

It's not a bad offer.

In fact, it's probably the best offer you'll get all night.

"C'mon," he nods his head to the side, encouraging you to follow him. Checks his phone for the time. "Starts in five."

If there's one thing you've indulged in since moving to Seoul, it's how safe you always feel. Security cameras are on every corner, and you've walked home countless times without any issues, even late into the night. While the place isn't perfect, it's far safer than your home country.

Still, you're not a complete idiot.

"It's not wise to follow strange men down dark alleys," you tell him.

He holds out his hand. Waits for you to shake it. Cocks a brow when you hesitate, so introduces himself.

"Jungkook. Nice to meet you. Now, can we please hurry up? I promised I'd be there."

Narrowing your eyes, you don't shake his hand. Arms folded over your chest, there is ice to your exterior, and given how warm his eyes are, you doubt it'll last for very long. May as well keep up this hard-to-get act while you still can.

Walking on past him, you call back, "Alright then. Lead the way."

In the domed mirror meant for reversing cars at the end of a tight alley, you see him laugh. "Wrong way, idiot."

Pausing, you scrunch your face up. Don't turn to face him for at least a second or so—but when you do, you're surprised to see him walking towards you. Hooking his arm around your waist, he carries on walking in the 'wrong' direction, taking you with him.

"Was just fucking with you," he grins. Nods towards a sign by another basement entrance, listing both Blu-Tae and GLOSS.

By the door, Rae is looking around like a mother duck who's just lost some of her ducklings when crossing the road. Breathes a sigh of relief when she spots you.

"C'mon," she grins, then realises who you're with. Says nothing of it, 'cause she doesn't want to be weird, but she recognises him, too. Decides she's just had a little too much to drink. There's no way it's him. Holds out her hand for you.

Reaching out for her, you're let go from Jungkook's grip, ready to get lost in the lights once more.

HAEJANG24 WAUSAN-RO, HONGDAE SATURDAY 05:53

Seoul is a city for the nocturnal. The restaurants and bars are open until the last men are standing. Given how much you've had to drink, you're surprised you still are.

Rae had dipped an hour or so ago. Had hit it off with Mr Blu-Tae himself. Seduced him with the suggestion that their couple name would be Blu-Rae. He'd said they should go to a DVD-bang. Would be fitting. See what Blu-rays were on file.

Naturally, you'd looked on with mild disgust and also admiration for how quickly she'd worked her magic. Everyone knows what goes down in DVD-bangs. Small private rooms, often with projector screens and the world's least comfortable futons, they're somewhere you hope to never end up—but also can't wait to hear all the details the next morning when Rae comes to your room for a debrief.

You'd been left under the surveillance of Jungkook.

"Look after her," Rae had instructed, then narrowed her eyes. "Or I'll destroy your reputation with a single twitter thread, Tokki."

It's a threat he's taken seriously. Knows how the internet works, and even though he's never done anything worthy of a cancellation, he also doesn't intend on starting now. The fact you seem to have no idea who he is during the daylight hours intrigues him. It's a rarity on streets like these.

Even when a few people asked for pictures with him on your walk to the hangover soup place, you didn't clock it as weird. Figured they were friends passing by, wanting to document their chance run-in. Just another memory of the night. The way Jungkook had greeted them was full of warmth, and kindness. Why wouldn't you assume they were mates?

You were also still incredibly drunk at the time, so didn't think to question it. Was keen for food, and Jungkook had insisted on hangover soup, and so that's where you are. Dishes nearly empty, far more of it eaten by him than you, you're laughing about nothing and everything all at once.

"Right," Jungkook declares, deciding he cannot hold in a question that's been tickling at his brain for the entire meal. "What the fuck is that?"

Coat left in the cloakroom, long forgotten about, your tattoos are on full display for him, just like his are for you. Up your arm they trail; a patchwork of teeny tiny identifiers. Latin phrases around skulls, birth flowers of the people you hold close, butterflies and stars. There's an ode to your favourite musician and your favourite Shakespeare quote, too. The fabric of you etched into your skin. There's no reinventing yourself, even half the world away from home.

You know precisely which tattoo Jungkook is asking about. You've asked yourself the same question a few times.

"Fuck off," you laugh.

While most of your tattoos are gorgeous, there's one that was done by a rogue artist on a girlie holiday a few years ago. What was supposed to be a seashell now looks like... well, nothing really. It's just a blob, thanks to the artist being absolutely terrible. The only solace you find in it is that your two best friends have an equally awful permanent reminder of that holiday on their bodies, too.

"It doesn't look how it's supposed to," you explain with a little pout. "I got royally screwed over."

He cocks a brow. You still haven't told him what it is. He isn't gonna ask you twice.

With a grumble, you feebly admit, "A shell."

And then he's laughing. Really laughing. Laughing so hard you think he might piss himself—which you'd actually prefer, because then he could be the embarrassed one, instead.

"I'm calling you Shelly from now on," he says with a broad smile. Has had his fair share of tattoo blunders, and knows you must've developed an affection towards how shitty it is. Would have gotten it covered up, otherwise. "That's incredible."

"You're calling me so such thing," you assure him, but you also can't help but laugh.

"I am," he tells you, then really solidifies it. "Shelly."

"Fuck off," you whine, doubling down. Scanning his arms, you try and pick out anything you can use against him, too. "If I'm Shelly, then you're Mike."

"Mike?!" He protests.

"Yeah," you insist, pointing towards the microphone on his forearm. "Mike."

"You are not calling me Mike. Do I look like a Mike?!"

"Do I look like a Shelly?!"

You've got a point. It's not the name he would have first associated with you - but it is cute, he thinks. Cute how mortified you seem. Cute how you can't help but smile.

After a little bit of back and forth, it's decided that neither of you look like your namesakes.

"Y'know, we kinda have matching tattoos," he says, holding out his arm for you to study. "Or at least, the placements."

And sure enough, below his elbow lives the outline of a bunny sitting on a crescent moon. Holding your own arm out next to his, below your elbow is a butterfly. Above it, is a teeny tiny moon.

Like Jungkook's moon, it's a crescent. Was supposed to symbolise new beginnings. You wonder what his means, but don't ask. Instead, you marvel at the coincidence of it all.

He presses his index finger against the butterfly on the inside of your forearm. The echoing chatter of the restaurant fades softly into nothingness as he says, "Nabi."

You nod. Even if you have spoken with him in English this entire time, it's nice to hear him speak in his mother tongue, no matter how minimal - so you reciprocate. Press your index finger against his bunny. Smile. Say, "Tokki."

It further confirms to Jungkook that you have no idea who he is. Has been a while since he's met a girl in a circumstance like this where that's the case. Likes the anonymity of it all. Is hiding his identity from you, and yet hasn't felt such vulnerability for years.

"Daltokki, right?" You continue, not wanting the silence to linger for too long. "The rabbit in the moon?"

You're not wrong, but you're also not entirely right.

"Yeah," he smiles regardless. "That's it."

JUNGKOOK'S APARTMENT ITAEWON-DONG, YONGSAN-GU SATURDAY 07:12

"Shhh," Jungkook quietly laughs. 

His hand is over your mouth and the other is on your hip as he guides you into his apartment. With your back to his chest, you've both been giggling for the entire ride to his place.

He had insisted that he should walk you home, and was surprised by the offense you seemed to have taken by this. You then told him that he absolutely could not seduce you, and that it was very gender-role-conforming for him to think that you were incapable of getting home by yourself.

"Maybe I should be the one to make sure you get home safely," you had said with a false sense of concern, which had made him laugh quite considerably.

In all reality, you didn't mind him offering to get you home. You just hadn't tidied your room. Didn't really expect to be taking a boy back to your place, much less one that looks like him.

Together, you'd caught the early morning bus over to Itaewon instead of a taxi, 'cause you're still on a student budget and Jungkook wasn't quite ready to blow his cover just yet.

You've been teasing him—questioning his status as a potential International Super Spy—ever since he took your hand and guided you into one of the flashiest apartment complexes you've ever been in. There was security. Doormen. A passcode for the elevator—not to mention that he was heading up to the seventh floor once you were in it. Might not sound like much, but when there are only seven floors to the entire building, it makes it the penthouse by default.

"It's not a penthouse," he'd insisted. "Plus, I live with friends. Only pay a third of the rent."

But a third of his rent is more money than you'll probably see in three months of post-grad work. You're drunk, but you're not stupid. You also know that the rental market here differs significantly from your home country. Monthly rent is cheap, but the deposits are extortionate. Sure, he'll get it back when he leaves, but to have the initial money needed for a place like this? He's not a regular student, if one at all, that much is sure.

"Not sure who's home," Jungkook whispers as you both kick your shoes off in the entryway. Given the looks of the other shoes, it's clear that this is a guys-only living situation. You're proven right when he continues, "Betcha Tae's still in that damn DVD-bang, but Yoongi might be back."

"Yoongi?" You question.

"GLOSS," Jungkook says, remembering how oblivious you are to who he is. Reaching down to grab your shoes, he isn't gonna leave them by the door. Will take them to his room. Doesn't want the boys asking questions, if they are in. Knows they'll just use it as an excuse to publicly roast him whenever they're next online together.

Given that a stream is scheduled for Sunday night, he doesn't want to tempt fate.

Their current choice of wind-up, which the viewers have been eating up, is the joke that Jungkook is a virgin. He's not, but he never knows how to defend himself without sounding like a tool, so always gets a little awkward. A lot of their viewers love it. Join in on the joke. Some take it seriously. He doesn't care.

Next month, Taehyung will do something dumb, and he'll become the favourite joke for a while. Maybe Yoongi. But for now, it's Jungkook.

None of them take it to heart. They're just a group of friends who share their gaming hangouts online, and accidentally made it to the top of the ranks.

They aren't particularly good at gaming, but that's part of the charm. Crescent Collective is how they're known: Blu-Tae, GLOSS and Tokki.

After a bet went wrong, and they all lost, they ended up with moon tattoos and their respective 'symbols'. Jungkook's is a rabbit, Tae's is a blu-ray DVD disk (because he really is committed to the bit), and Yoongi's is stars to symbolise the shine of fresh gloss. Jungkook's makes the most sense. Yoongi's is pretty decent. Taehyung's is just... Well, it's very him.

Sliding open the door into the main living area, Jungkook has to cover your mouth again when you gasp at the sheer size of the place.

"I thought butterflies were supposed to be silent?" He teases. "Quiet for me, Nabi."

His place is bigger than your family home, you think. Hushing you again, he's laughing—and then he's cursing at the sight of a half-naked Yoongi by the kitchen counter.

In his boxers, with half a clementine slice hanging from his lips, he's just as shocked to see Jungkook with you. Gets over it pretty quickly.

"Don't mind me," he says, chewing down on the fruit with a smirk. Looks towards you. "Apologies for the lack of clothes."

With your shoes hooked on his fingers, Jungkook's other large hand is still over your mouth. You're not sure you can form any words as it is, but you do notice the crescent moon and stars on Yoongi's ribs.

"Not a word to Tae," is all Jungkook says. Knows that he'll be in for a world of teasing tomorrow if he gets wind of it. "I mean it."

Holding his hands up, Yoongi's still smirking, but he is backing away into a room just off the kitchen. "My lips are sealed."

Watching as he closes the door, you wonder how much truth is in his words. Jungkook knows it's absolute bullshit. Chooses not to dwell on it. Loosens his grip on you and heads towards his own room. Turns back to check you're following him, and can't help but smile when he knows that you are.

Tossing your shoes just inside the door, Jungkook is quick to pick up a pair of jeans he'd left on the floor, before chucking them over his desk chair. He tweaks his bedding. Straightens it out. Looks a little shy as he turns to face you.

"Made it home safe," he says quietly, as you close the door behind you.

You nod. Keep a little distance. Say, "It's dangerous to sleep after drinking. Make sure you build a tower of pillows in the middle of your bed so you don't roll onto your back."

Both of you are far more sober than you were earlier. There's no need to worry about anything like that.

And yet he nods, now. Says, "You're probably right. You can always stay, though. Just to check I don't die in my sleep, or whatever."

"It'd be the responsible thing to do," you nod, wondering if he can tell just how fast your heart is beating. "But I don't have any pyjamas."

Jungkook swallows. The way he looks at you now is entirely different to how he'd looked at you in the club. Back then, he'd been bold. Flirtatious.

Now, he seems vulnerable. Needy.

"I sleep in my underwear," he tells you, unsure if you'll actually be sleeping. While he likes the idea of fucking you, part of him doesn't want to. Fears it'll ruin the magic of the unknown. The way he throbs at the mere thought of it would suggest that his hopes outweigh his fears. "I don't mind, if you don't."

The clothes Jungkook's wearing are baggy. You've seen nothing of his figure.

Reaching for the nape of his neck, he tugs on the fabric of his T-shirt. Pulls it over his head and discards it in one swift movement. The sound of it crumpling on the floor is abrasive in how it makes you feel. Raw. Unrefined. You suppose it's just a natural consequence of seeing the toned muscles of his chest. How his waist defies what you thought was possible for masculine builds, and how broad his chest is. The indent of his collarbones, and the lines of his pelvis that draw your eyes downwards.

A pair of Calvins peek just above the waistband of his jeans, and a silver chain rests around his neck. Light from the city filters in, and LED lights around his impressive computer set-up paint him in a hue of violet.

"No," you manage to reply, which is a miracle, you think. "I don't mind."

And then you reciprocate. Reach for the hem of your shirt and pull it over your head, letting the fabric fall to the floor. Seeing him swallow back his nerves, or maybe his desires, makes you feel far bolder than you should.

"It's really uncomfortable to sleep in jeans," you tell him.

He nods. Agrees. Threads the button of his trousers through its loop. Doesn't take them off yet. Waits for you to do the same. Keeps his eyes firmly locked on yours. Doesn't let his gaze wander, no matter how much he has to fight all his instincts not to fully take you in. Is still pretending like he doesn't want you in the most indecent of ways.

The room you're in right now is known worldwide. 

People set it as their zoom backgrounds. It's on Pinterest. There are YouTube videos attempting to recreate the set-up. If he were to power up his computer—which, in all fairness, is only on standby—and go live, there'd be a thousand viewers within minutes. Doesn't matter what he plays, or who he's with. He doesn't give it much thought anymore. Is just life.

Sometimes, he regrets not being a faceless streamer, but he also knows that it's part of the appeal. Connection, and the fantasy that comes with this almost dystopian, parasocial idea of it.

After all, the meeting of his eyes with yours across a busy club led you to this point. Human connection in the simplest of ways, that he thinks could culminate in the most complex of ways, too.

"Okay," he says. "So take them off."

"You want me to?" You ask just to tease a little bit, and when a smile flickers onto his seemingly nervous lips, you're glad you did.

"You think we'd be here right now if I didn't?" He says with a tweak of his brows.

"You've got a point."

With that, you push your jeans down and reveal the matching set of black underwear you're in. It's nothing special. In fact, it's not really a set, but it's close enough that it'd fool anyone who didn't know.

Jungkook, in this moment, is indeed a beautiful fool.

There's a lopsided grin on his face as he lets his eyes rake down your body. Is shameless as he indulges in you. Nods, as he bites down on his bottom lip.

"It's cold," you tell him, urging him along a little bit.

"Shit," he says without much thought. "Sorry. Was just... Yeah. Shit."

It's both endearing and wholly confusing how Jungkook flips from confident to cute. A man of duality. It makes you giggle, and then you're the one biting down on your bottom lip. Are both a little bashful. A little shy.

"I'm only here to make sure you don't die in your sleep," you remind him before it goes any further.

Looking at him now, knowing you want him in the worst of ways, it's testing all of your willpower not to just cut to the chase.

Thing is, you liked his company tonight. Want it again. Want to give him a reason to seek you out once more. Want him thinking about you in clubs, and looking for you in crowded bars. Pining. Yearning. Needy.

"It's already gone seven," he tells you, walking towards his bed. Knocks his head to the side. Silently tells you to follow suit. "Will probably only get a couple hours in."

"Better than nothing. Plus, you're actually really irritating," you bullshit as you get into bed with him. Are adamant you won't fuck him, but you do let him pull you in closer.

"Oh, yeah?" He grins.

"Mhmm," you nod, pretending as if you aren't looking at his lips. "You'll be less annoying when you're asleep."

"I'm never gonna sleep again," he assures you. "Will annoy you forever."

"I know where the front door is," you say as you stroke a few of his loose, wavy hairs back behind his ears. They fall freely almost right away, but it just gives you another excuse to play with it "I can just leave. I'm only here to make sure you don't die in your sleep. Pointless if you're awake."

"So I have to be asleep for you to stay?"

"Mhmm," you hum.

He immediately loosens his grip on you and flops into an overdramatic sleeping position. Fake snores. Gets you giggling. Can't hide his smile, either. Laughs through the god-awful noises he's making.

But it is late, and you're both tired. As much as he'd like to stay awake with you, the pull of sleep is just too tempting now that you're beneath his sheets. It's not like he doesn't wanna fuck you. His semi is very much present, but neither of you mention it.

"Y'know what's sad about butterflies?" Jungkook mumbles after the laughter dies down. He carefully begins to trace the lines of your tattoo, eyes entirely focused on the tip of his finger.

You purr a response before you fully vocalise one. "Tell me."

He glances up at you only very momentarily. Looks back down. Is quiet when he says, "How quickly they die. Spend over half their lifespan growing into these beautiful creatures, and then they have, what—A week? Two? Three, tops—and then they're gone. It's like the cherry blossoms in spring. Beautiful, and then—" He clicks his fingers. "—gone."

Stroking back some loose strands of his hair, you wonder if he's thinking about you. About this chance encounter. Beautiful, then gone.

"Just means you have to appreciate them while they're still around," you say softly. "Cherish them, because you know you only have them for a moment."

His gaze lifts to meet yours. The reflection of his LED lights makes it seem like butterflies are floating around in his deep, dark eyes, too.

There are stories he could tell you of ancient folklore; about human souls taking the form of butterflies. Of justice, and peace, and spirits. Of back in time, when tigers still smoked. He could tell you of his favourite butterflies. Of the black butterflies that are as large as his hands in the summer. Of the huge display in a museum downtown that would transfix him as a child.

Instead, he gently presses his lips against the lines of your butterfly tattoo.

The rate at which your heart is beating multiplies. Like a swarm of butterflies chasing through your veins, you've no control over the way you're feeling. He's brought your artwork to life; set the souls inside of your butterfly free, only for it to be apparent that the souls belonged to the both of you, anyway.

You know that this is one of those moments; a butterfly passing on by through your lives. Here, and then gone. Beautiful, but fleeting.

There's a shyness to Jungkook now, as he rolls onto his back. A reluctance to get things wrong. He doesn't look at you, just nibbles on his bottom lip and pretends as if the empty white ceiling ahead of him is the most interesting thing he's seen all night.

It's not.

You are.

You, and those eyes that make him feel like the butterfly on your arm is tickling at his tummy. He finds himself jealous when he faces you again and begins tracing the thin lines of your butterfly once more. Wants to embed himself into you like the ink that's carved out a home in your skin.

"Sorry," he mumbles, seemingly regretful of the tender kiss he'd pressed against your arm just a short moment ago. "Don't know why I did that."

"It's okay," you reply without much thought. Like him, you're letting the way you feel dictate the words you say. Care not for playing coy. "I liked it."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Jungkook wants to stop his mouth from letting his desires escape. The issue is, he drank a little too much tonight and his lips are a little too loose. Too bad. Can't help himself from asking, "Can I do it again?"

You're just as bad.

"Yeah," you whisper. "Please."

The way his lashes splay against his cheeks as he presses another kiss to your arm is nothing short of celestial. Like that damn moon on his arm, he's got a beauty about him that's hard to capture in words. Ethereal feels too fantastical, but gorgeous feels too dense. He resides in a realm somewhere between the two. Somewhere you'd like to stay forever.

Forever, sadly, only lasts a few hours. You've brunch plans with new friends you can't bail on yet for fear of running a friendship before it's even begun.

You see yourself out. Jungkook's still asleep. Not quite 10AM, you've a dozen missed calls from Rae, and a cold can of coke waiting for you in your fridge. Funnily enough, though, you don't really feel hungover. Must have gotten it all out of your system the night before.

It's only fitting, when you think about Jungkook on the subway home, and how soberingly drunk the idea of him makes you feel. 

YONSEI UNIVERSITY DORMS DAESIN-DONG, SEODAEMUN-GU SUNDAY 21:39

Brunch had, predictably, been a yawn-fest.

The people were perfectly nice, but you spent the entire time thinking about Jungkook; how you'd left him in a pretty slumber, the LEDs behind his computer still glowing, with not even so much as a note to say thank you.

It's not like he had any paper on his desk, and you weren't about to start rummaging around his room. You also didn't want to wake him. Part of it was because you knew you'd be saying goodbye, and the concept of that was one that you didn't like all that much.

And so your subway ride back to your dorm had been spent searching his name. He didn't take long to find. 

From the club's Instagram, you found GLOSS and quickly discovered that there was far more to both him and Blu-Tae than just being DJs. Their follower counts were wild. Numbers you know you'll never see on your own account. Verification check marks accented their display names. 

Who are you? You'd thought to yourself, incredibly perplexed by it all.

Jungkook was littered all over their pages, and yet it still took a while for you to click through to his account. You're not sure why, but think that perhaps the unknown was a nice place to reside within. Safer. 

CR3SC3NT_T0KK1 was his username—and curiously, Tokki was also his display name. Brows furrowed, you'd almost dropped your phone when you saw his follower count. It eclipsed both of his friends. 

Filled with gaming set-ups, merch drops, and general life dumps, it was pretty clear that whoever Jungkook had made himself out to be the night before was not who he was in real life. 

Equal parts offended and intrigued, you were only more confused when you saw that Rae was already following him—but not following Taehyung.

"What?" she'd beamed when you'd asked her about it after you'd arrived home from brunch, a scoop of hangover ice cream being waved around in the air with her flamboyant gestures. "He's, like, one of the biggest streamers in the country—and if I want to keep Tae obsessed with me, we need as many connections as possible. Jungkook's a frog to me, baby, not a prince. Don't you worry your little cotton socks. I'm not after him."

"I wouldn't care if you were," you'd blatantly lied in response, and then you'd giggled together at how ridiculous you were both being over boys you didn't really know.

Hovering over the bright purple 'JOIN STREAM' button later that evening, part of you holds back. Think it'd be weird. Strange. That he'd somehow know it was you.

Dipping your mouse, you tick the checkbox to join as an anonymous viewer. Take a breath. Think fuck it. Watch with bated breath as the loading wheel turns—and then he's there.

Jeon Jungkook has the kind of beauty that transcends shitty quality streams. Smiling as he jokes with one of his friends through a headset with a pair of black bunny ears affixed to the top of them, you hear a voice you almost recognise. Notice the friend he's streaming with in the top corner. Realise you do know him, too.

Hair as blue as the trees are green, Tae has just as much boyish charm as Jungkook, but also an incredibly large hickey that seems to match the ones on Rae's neck.

"Nah, can we get an L in the chat for Kook," he's teasing. Sure enough, the chat begins to explode with the letter, and Jungkook looks so pretty when he protests.

"It's not an L!"

"It is!" Tae insists. "Should have seen him, guys. Was following this girl around like a lovesick puppy—"

"No, I wasn't!"

"And she didn't even give him her number. Not even her name!"

"That's not true!" Jungkook whines. He switches between Korean and English with ease, sometimes just single words, other times whole sentences. "I have a name."

"What is it?"

"Not telling you."

"Cause you don't have one!"

"No, because you'll all make my life a living hell," Jungkook laughs—and then notices a bright blue comment lighting up in the chat. His eyes widen. "Fuck."

GLOSS: Was calling her Nabi when he got home last night Almost shit his pants when he saw me

"Yoongi, I'm gonna shave your eyebrows off in your sleep," Jungkook growls—only for the chat to start spamming butterfly emojis. Closing his eyes, he leans back in his chair, the still paused video game long forgotten about, now. Thousands of people are in their chat, and even more are watching the stream.

"Guys, get it trending," Taehyung goads. "Tweet, I dunno, bunny and butterfly emojis."

"Don't do that!"

"Hashtag find Jungkook's butterfly."

"Do NOT do that!"

"I'm like a modern-day cupid," Taehyung beams.

"I'm shaving your eyebrows, too."

Closing the stream, you sit for a moment, mouth ajar, unable to process what on earth you've just witnessed. Part of you feels as if it must have an incredibly vivid daydream; a projection of your heart's desire.

And you know you shouldn't, but when you get home from running errands the following day, you join the stream again. Blush when you notice the chat is still teasing Jungkook.

"I'm gonna block you all," he threatens them with a grin, which only encourages them to send even more butterfly emojis.

The next day is no different, nor the day after that.

He is, though. Has been letting it all play on his mind. Doesn't have much of a filter when it comes to streaming.

"What if she didn't even like me, guys," he whines to the chat. "And sees this and is like... mortified. I think I'd punch myself in the face if she ever saw any of this."

You toy with the idea of sending a comment into the chat. Something that only he'd realise was you. Thing is, you feel bad for intruding. As if you shouldn't be prying. As if you're eavesdropping on him chatting with friends, and not on the stream he's broadcasting live around the world.

Typing out a message, you deliberate your choice.

Punch urself in the face pls, tokki x the message reads. 

Simple. Effective. To the point.

But everyone calls him that, you stupidly realise, now.

And so you change the name to 'Mike'. 

Before you can even really realise what you've done, you've pressed send.

The message flitters into the chat feed. He's about to resume his game. Doesn't notice it at first.

Gives the chat one final glance, and then his eyes widen. He sits up taller. Straighter. "Mike?"

You close the lid of your laptop immediately.

"Fuck."

THE STREETS WAUSAN-RO, HONGDAE FRIDAY 23:51

"Tae is on in five," Rae squeals, dragging you down the road at lightning speed. 

You'd spent far too long at dinner, and also had far too much to drink with your food, so have been forced to make an undignified sprint to the club in an attempt to make it in before the place reaches capacity.

There's already a queue. You can see it from a mile away.

Realistically, Rae could have gotten Taehyung to add her to the guest list. He'd offered. She didn't wanna look needy, so had played it coy about her plans for the evening. 

After a single beer and soju, she'd decided that the idea of him hooking up with anyone but her simply wouldn't do.

"Shit," she sighs in defeat, looking at the queue. The direction you've come from means that you reach the entrance before you reach the queue, but even then, you can tell it goes around the block. "Are there no other clubs these people can go to?!"

There are—but this club is rammed tonight for the same reason Club Sundown was rammed the week before. People want to see the Crescent Collective. 

You didn't realise it at the time, but you'd bypassed the queue of the second club last weekend because Jungkook had been with you.

And as if by a stroke of luck, or perhaps a twist of fate, the same tattooed hand that had held you as you slept last weekend is now putting out a cigarette just a few steps away.

Eyes landing on yours, he looks away again, almost immediately. Feels embarrassed. Stupid. For the way you left him, and also for the way he knows you must know who he is, now.

Behind a red rope, he's away from the general crowd. It's sort of obnoxious, you think—but also know Jungkook is anything but.

"They're with me," Jungkook says to the bouncer, not really looking at you, but nodding in your general direction. Is deliberately keeping a little distance. Instead, he says to Rae, "Tae wouldn't want you waiting in line."

Nodding, the security guard makes way for you, stamping the backs of your hands with UV-activated ink as you walk past.

"Thank you!" Rae beams.

"No worries," Jungkook smiles right back. "He's about to start. Was just getting air. You're lucky you arrived when you did."

"Angel," she praises. "I'll get you a drink while we're in there."

You know her well enough now to know that she absolutely will not, but you don't say anything. Instead, you fold your arms over your chest as you walk, suddenly feeling all awkward in Jungkook's presence.

"Nabi," he curtly greets you as you head down the stairs.

"Tokki," you greet him back just as formally. Consider calling him 'Mike' instead, but you chicken out.

Face scrunching up, Jungkook tries his best not to cringe at himself. Doesn't know if you're addressing him by his tattoo moniker, or just calling him Tokki because you know it's his identifier online.

"How have you been?" He asks, not wanting to let it simmer.

"Alright," you say, aware of how awkward this all feels, as you descend the stairs and into the club. The music is getting louder, and soon you won't be able to hear him talk unless you're in each other's ears. "And you?"

"Alright."

Just as quickly as he appeared, Jungkook is lost to the crowd. 

He doesn't care to stick around if he's just going to be hung out to dry by you again. He tells himself that he only made sure you got in to keep Rae happy for Taehyung's sake—yet as he rejoins his friends in their booth, he finds himself desperately seeking you out again.

It takes him a while, but he eventually spots you by the bar in conversation with Rae. He can't make out what you're saying, but notices how your eyes are flickering around the room. Seems as if you're hunting for something. 

Deep down, even if he pretends like he doesn't, he hopes it's for him.

Pulled away from your search by the bartender passing over drinks to the pair of you, Jungkook feels bad. Knows the drinks are pricey in this place. Also knows, from the conversations you've already had, that you're on a tight budget. Had said that once the semester starts, you'll stop going to parties. Are seemingly unaware of the fact the parties never stop in this city. You'll learn.

When your eyes finally land on his a little while later, you're surprised by his intense gaze—intrigued by his lack of shame for being caught out. He doesn't look away or appear embarrassed. If anything, it's quite the opposite.

Girls are vying for his attention all around him, yet you receive all of it. Half the room away, hundreds of people create a sea between you both. Jungkook thinks he'd swim through it, no matter how choppy the water, if it meant he could have you right now.

You're the one who left, though. 

It's up to you to come back.

Part of you doesn't want to, but then you see another girl making advances, and Rae's horror over other girls trying it on with Taehyung seems to have rubbed off on you. The idea of it makes your skin crawl. You're drunk, and a little reactive, but Jungkook likes playing with fire.

As you work your way through the crowd towards him, he tries his best not to grin. Finds himself vindicated in his desire to be close to you, 'cause it seems like you want it, too.

Sliding in between Jungkook and the girl, you turn and apologise.

"Just need to borrow him for a second," you smile, clutching at his shirt and pulling him away from the booth before she even has a chance to protest.

With an ever-so-satisfied smirk, Jungkook shrugs towards the other girl, and lets you drag him wherever you want. He's putty in your hands, a little tipsy and desperately in need of attention from you. 

For the past week, he's played scenario over scenario over scenario in his head about this moment, and now that it's happening, he's glad he let you seek him out. Is so pleased that you actively want him just as much as he wants you.

In the middle of the crowd, you're hidden from prying eyes. It's too dark to notice any discerning features of the people around you, yet somehow, Jungkook seems like a vibrant golden light to you. Impossible to miss. Unable to ignore.

You wanna talk. Ask him about who the fuck he is. Explain that you didn't mean to leave so heartlessly.

Taehyung's set is so overwhelmingly loud, though. Can barely even hear yourself think.

As soon as he'd spotted Rae in the crowd, Taehyung had sent the bar coordinator to go and get her. She's sitting pretty up in the DJ booth, incredibly pleased with herself. Notices you and Jungkook almost immediately. Knows it'll be on Twitter in the next few hours, especially if that damn butterfly tattoo of yours is noticed.

Bunnies and butterflies have been trending for days.

Jungkook speaks, but you can't hear him.

"Huh?" You ask, getting on your tippy toes, but it's fruitless. Even as his hand drops to your waist to steady you and keep you in place, you can barely make out his words. "I can't hear you!"

He can't hear jack shit, either. Frowns. Looks around. Spots Yoongi by the booth and gestures towards the side of the room. When Yoongi nods back, it's Jungkook who drags you through the crowd, now. Just beyond the DJ booth is a little black door that Yoongi meets you by. Taps in the code. Nods in your direction.

"A pleasure," he says with a knowing smirk. Miraculously, you can hear him, but ultimately, it's because you're not in the direct line of the speakers now.

You don't get a chance to respond before Jungkook gets you into what can only described as a dark hole as quickly as he can. Romance, you think to yourself, but you also are very aware of the fact Jungkook doesn't let go of your hand, even when he's searching for the light switch. It takes him a second, but he manages to recall the approximate location quickly enough.

Dingy yellow light floods into the room. Small and boxy, it's a 3-in-1 storage room, bathroom, and dressing room for 'talent'. It's why Yoongi had the code, but you can't imagine anyone with any shred of self-respect actually using this place. The walls are the same grey tiles as the floor, and the light bulb hangs from a wire without a shade. The tap on the sink drips, and you're pretty sure there's a leak in the far corner by the mirror.

None of that matters, though. All you can focus on is the man in front of you. Though not soundproof, the room does offer a far more muted version of Taehyung's set. More importantly, it provides you with privacy.

It's been a week since you last saw him, face to face.

Though you have, admittedly, seen him what feels like a million times on low-quality streams from his bedroom.

Realistically, it's been about three times, but you think about it almost constantly.

"You left," is all he says, a little pout on his lips.

It's cute, you think, that he is so outwardly offended by such an act. You would have thought that a man of his position would have a habit of leaving, himself. Then again, you didn't know of his status when you left him in bed that morning.

"And you didn't die," you reply with a teasing smile, trying not to make it sound so severe. "You were fine without me."

"I'm not joking," he says, even if he can't help but smile at the recollection of how stupid the conversation before bed had been. "You left. It was rude."

"I had brunch plans," you tell him, reaching your hands out for his. He wants to resist. Fails. Lets you pull him closer. Incredibly close, in fact. So close that you begin to notice all sorts of things. His freckles. A small scar on his cheek. A tiny fleck of glitter on his skin, no doubt from one of the girls who had been desperate for his attention earlier. "You'd only had a few hours sleep. I didn't want to disturb you."

"Could have left a note," he says, still pouty but far quieter. You can smell the Jack on his breath. Have always hated the taste, but think you could grow to like it. "Your number. Something, at least."

"I could've," you admit, edging even closer. Closing the gap. Nudging your nose against his. But then you smile. Pull back. Tease, "And you could have warned me that I'd become a trending topic on Twitter."

Just like that, Jungkook's pout snaps into the prettiest smile. His face scrunches up, lines creasing on his nose. Beneath his closed eyes reside the sweetest little puffs. He's got the kind of face that is impossible not to like.

"Ah," he cringes.

"Yeah," you laugh at the stupidity of it all. What did he expect? That you wouldn't find out? "Ah."

"In my defence," he holds his hands up, eyes wide and innocent. "You called me Tokki. How was I to know you didn't know?"

"Oh, give over," you laugh, as he reaches for your hands once again. Pulls you closer. "You know I didn't know."

Truthfully, he does know this, but it was nice to be unknown for a little while. Nice to not second guess your intentions. Even now, knowing that you know, he feels like none of it matters. 

"Look," he begins, toying with the hem of your cropped shirt. Lets his fingertips graze your bare skin. Tries his best not to think about what you look like half-naked. Fails. "I only came out tonight 'cause I hoped I'd see you. I don't care about staying out till ass-o'clock, again."

"Think I've only just caught up on sleep," you hum, angling your chin up and giving him the perfect opportunity to make a move that goes beyond flirtatious touches.

"Exactly," he smiles, letting his hand squeeze the side of your waist. Pulls you closer. "And I've not drunk half as much tonight, but I think I could do with you making sure I don't die, again."

"Yeah?"

Nodding as he nudges his nose against yours, Jungkook is all smiles. Lets his lips line up against your pout.

"Yeah," he mumbles—then lets the word get lost in your lips.

Sinking into what it feels like to kiss you, Jungkook can't help but feel satisfaction. Has finally caught the damn butterfly he's been after all week. 

He's played a lot of games. Won a lot of battles.

And yet victory has never tasted so sweet.

JUNGKOOK'S APARTMENT ITAEWON-DONG, YONGSAN-GU SATURDAY 02:07

You retrace your steps. Get a taxi to his place, 'cause there's no point pretending like he can't afford it. Not anymore.

You're not giggling like you were the first time you were in his elevator, but it's kind of impossible to do so when your back is to the wall and Jungkook's tongue is in your mouth.

Your hands roam his body—waist, ass. If you can squeeze it, you will. Just makes him deepen the kisses. If his large hands weren't cupping your jaw, keeping you close, they'd be doing the exact same thing as yours.

The ding of the elevator pulls you apart just for a second, and then you're the one pulling him down to the corridor to his place.

He doesn't open the door. Just kisses you again. 

Finally understands what it means to get butterflies, 'cause he's got you, now, and he never wants to lose it.

Hooking his hands beneath your ass, he hoists you up. Gets your legs wrapped around him. Could go in, but where's the fun in that? There's a slight danger of getting caught. He knows the hallway security cameras will definitely pick this up. The threat that it could get leaked online, and the simple fact that he couldn't give a shit if it does, is kind of hot.

"I'm not fucking you out here," you tell him through a hushed giggle, when he rests his forehead against yours.

"Woah," he jokes. "Who said anything about fucking?"

"I can literally feel your boner, Jungkook."

"Touché."

He doesn't even attempt to downplay it. He puts you down. Gets you through the threshold of his apartment. Shoes off by the door, there's no need to be quiet. Yoongi and Taehyung are still out, and will be for hours. He could take his time if he really wanted.

But what he wants is you. Doesn't waste time. Gets you in his room. Kinda feels like you never left. Jungkook still wishes you hadn't, but doesn't mind the idea of you making it up to him now.

"So," you hum, trailing your fingertips across his desk. "This is where the magic happens?"

He smiles a little bashfully, head dropping for a moment before his eyes are on yours again. "Yeah. You could say that."

Now that you're back in his space, it's a little embarrassing just how many clues there were. A headset rests on the desk—black, robust, with his signature bunny ears secured on top—and a mic is hooked up by the monitor. The webcam doesn't look special, but the keyboard subtly glows in his darkened room. Violet, like the LEDs behind his screen.

A laptop covered in vinyl stickers is closed next to the set-up. He uses it when he's not streaming on his desktop. At least three of the stickers are of the Crescent Collective's logo.

Turning to fully face him, you rest your palms behind yourself and perch on the edge of the desk.

He gets a little kick out of seeing you so flippantly disregard the domain in which he dominates. Gives him a point to prove. Gets him closing the space between you, hands on your waist, dipping to your ass to leverage further back on his desk. Knows it's sturdy, 'cause he built it himself, but has never tested out quite how strong it really is. Thinks now's as good a time as any to find out.

Your legs wrap around his body with no thought, just the innate understanding that you want him in a way you're sure thousands of people have only dreamt of: in his room, on his desk, that damn 'Go Live' button just a few short clicks away.

Reaching beside you, there's a smirk on your lips as you retrieve his headset. Put it on him. Say, "The ears are cute, Tokki."

He rolls his eyes. Is fighting a smile, and currently losing. He's seen some lewd shit during his time on the internet and is well aware of the fanart that includes the ears and little else. Always found it kinda funny, before.

Now? He's so hard it almost hurts, and he thinks he could grow to like it.

As your arms drape over his shoulders, he takes them off. Puts them on you, instead. Adjusts the sizing. Gets them just right for you. Is attentive, like that. Pulls his head back a little, and then realises what a problem you're gonna be for him.

It's not so much the addition of animal ears that's getting him insatiable, but seeing you adorned with a crown that is so inherently his that does it.

Jungkook's no saint. He's had his fair share of one-nighters. A couple hours of fun never to be spoken of again. Since the group of them signed to their management agency, they've been repeatedly told how important it is to get NDA's signed. Something about it always feels so icky to Jungkook. Cruel, almost. Has only had a couple hook-ups since then, both with flings he's known for a good couple of years, with no fear of them spilling the beans on how prettily he whines when he cums.

You're the first new girl in a long time. He knows he should really pause things before you cut to the chase—but then your hand is trailing down his thick forearm, delicately stroking his rabbit moon with a curious smile. Decides he doesn't care.

"The ears are cute," he replies. Teasingly adds, "Nabi."

The position of your arms over his shoulders ensures the tattoos he'd traced the week before are fully displayed for him. As his eyes drop to your butterfly, you're curiously smitten by the way his lips move to press a kiss against it again.

"Suit me?"

"Mhmm," he hums, eyes flickering back up to yours. "Should also get you a pair of butterfly wings, or something."

"I'd make you wear them," you tell him with a cheeky glint in your eye. "Turn you into a butterfly, yourself. Your girlies in the chat would love that."

Jungkook knows without a shadow of a doubt he'd let you. Not for the girlies in the chat, but for you.

Ghosting his lips against yours, he's waiting for you to press down. Is letting you take the lead.

Your kisses are sweet. Tepid. Reserved.

You're feeling; his hands on your waist, the pressure of his lip rings, the presence of his nose.

And then he's feeling; your bare skin as his large hands slip beneath the fabric of your shirt, the way your legs wrap around him, the vibration of a small groan against his lips.

The skirt you're in is bunched around your hips, and the positioning is just right for you to feel how hard he is against your underwear. It's a little undignified, you'll admit, but you're impatient, so you take control. Reposition his hand between your legs. Encourage him to take things further.

"Yeah?" He checks.

Nodding into a needy kiss, you mumble, "Please."

It might've been a while, but Jungkook's muscle memory is enviable. He's the best player on the team for that very reason.

As he hooks your underwear to the side, he's pleased to be greeted with indications of your arousal. Smirks into the kisses he's giving you, as his fingertips graze against your clit. Trails his lips to your neck. Wants to hear the way you gasp as he pushes his thick middle finger inside you.

"Fuck," you sigh at the welcome intrusion. Nod, as he curls his finger almost immediately. He's got a lot to thank those damn video games for, that's for sure.

Softly moaning, just how he hoped you would, there's an arch to your back as he picks up a pace. The need to perform, almost.

Head tipping back as Jungkook fucks another finger into you, you're unable to think too cognitively. Can only think about the way he feels. The smell of his hair as he presses kisses against your neck, and how prominent his collarbones are as your nails trail up his toned torso.

"Feels so good," you tell him. Move the hand of yours that's been resting on his shoulder to his hair. Tug on it a little. Elicit the prettiest of whines from him.

There's something to be said for making a man—especially one of such strength, stature, status—so weak. Gets you all giggly. Jungkook can feel the satisfaction ripple through your entire body, and it just makes him groan against your neck even more.

"You're so wet," he praises, pulling back to study your face as he plays with you. Lets his thumb stroke up against your clit ever so gently. Revels in the way you get a little shaky. Twitchy. With those damn bunny ears, you really are like a little rabbit. Jungkook finally understands why the fan artists choose to draw him in such a way. It is hot. "You're making me so fuckin' hard."

And then you're giggling again.

"Is it a joke to you, huh?" He smirks. Looks down at your pussy, all swollen and sopping wet for him, in the hazy violet light of his room. Knows that his throbbing cock is gonna stuff you so fuckin' full that laughing won't be an option. Is desperate for it. "How badly I want you is just a big joke to you, huh, bunny?"

The way he groups you in with his moniker is too damn hot.

"Dunno," you rasp, desperately trying to hold off the orgasm that's building inside you. "Fuck me and find out."

Reaching for the button of his trousers, you're quick as you wrestle his jeans down over his ass. Don't bother pushing them down entirely. Just enough to get his boxers exposed, and in turn, his thick cock. Hard and engorged, his desperation for you is evident. A small patch of precum seeps through the fabric of his boxers. He curses as your thumb strokes against it.

"Condom?" You ask, knowing you've got none on you.

"Hold that thought," he says, regretfully pulling away from you.

Watching on as he pushes down his jeans, and strips himself of his shirt, you're at a loss for words. You've seen him like this before, but it's so much hotter knowing that he's gonna be fucking himself into you as soon as he possibly can.

Jungkook could very easily lead you to his bed. Get you comfy. Reach to his bedside cabinet for a condom. Fuck you how he likes—doggy-style, minimal face-to-face contact—and be done with it all very quickly.

Instead, he says, "Stay here."

Doing as you're told, you watch on as he walks to the cabinet, and retrieves a condom. Admire his back, and his broad shoulders. The valley of his spine, and the hard work he's put into crafting his physique. Smirk to yourself as he dips into his boxers. Strokes himself. Once, twice. Tears the packet open with his teeth, just like you were always taught not to do, and rolls the latex down his thick shaft.

"What?" he smirks as he walks back, realising your eyes are transfixed on his cock.

You say nothing. Smile. Hold your hands out for Jungkook to take, just so you can pull him back even quicker.

Lips pressing into yours as he closes the gap, Jungkook is all smiles. Rubs the head of his cock against your pussy, gathering up your arousal all over his tip. Lines himself up with your entrance. Waits for you to give him the go-ahead.

Hand on his ass, you pull him closer. Edge the crown of his cock into you. Whimper. Beg. "Please."

Sinking into you with a laboured grunt, he's surprised with how much tighter you are around his cock than you were with his fingers. Wet and warm, there's an undeniable pleasure that sparks through his body as he gets familiar with the way you feel.

Slowly, his hips begin to pick up a pace. As his tongue strokes into your mouth, there's no dignity to the way he's taking you. The increased pace means heightened moans, and it's not just you—it's him, too.

"Shit, yeah," he grits. "So fuckin' tight, aren't you?"

Whining, you nod into his kisses. Are at his entire disposal as he grips your waist, proving exactly why Tokki is the perfect nickname for him.

As much as he likes the ears, he's a little worried that he might fuck you so hard they fall off. Doesn't wanna break them, and definitely doesn't wanna think about the story the boys would make up when they go live tomorrow to tease him—but also really wants to fuck you harder.

Which is funny, cause the way he tugs them off with such desperation and tosses them down, you'd be forgiven for thinking he couldn't care less about breaking them. Doesn't give you a chance to say anything, 'cause his big hands are cradling your face, bringing you in for desperate kisses once more.

There's a lewdness to the sounds you make together, but Jungkook knows that if he was an entirely different kind of streamer, you'd make bank together. Wonders about the way it would look on camera. Worries. Pauses.

"You good?" You check a little breathlessly as he reaches behind you, just to tug the wire to his webcam from the plus.

"Yeah," he nods, still fiddling around behind you. Smiles in the hedonistic haze as your lips find a new home on his neck. Strokes your hair gently, and presses a kiss to the side of your head. Quietly says, "Just making sure there's no way in hell I accidentally start streaming."

You hum, all purry and pliant. "People would pay good money to see it."

While he agrees, and has had the same thought process, he doesn't care. "You saying I should be charging you for this?"

"Oh, no," you say all very sweetly. "You should be paying me."

"I'll pay you with orgasms," he promises, knowing that it's a rare currency for one-night strands.

You smirk. Pat the top of his head. "Sure you will."

If there's one thing Jungkook loves, it's a challenge.

Pulling back, he turns you around. Gets you bent over his desk with zero opposition from you. Rubs himself against your soaked cunt, then asks, "Yeah?"

"Yeah," you smirk, and then settle into a sigh as he pushes into you. The feeling of fullness from Jungkook is one that's hard to compare. So thick, and fat, and heavy, his cock really is just as impressive as he is.

With one hand hooked at the crease of your thigh, the other holds the top of your shoulder. Gets you pushed down onto his cock as far as you possibly can be. There's a slight reflection in his streaming plaque beside the monitor, and you're pleased to see just how intensely focused he is on you, brows furrowed, pretty pink lips resting ajar. The silver of his lip rings and chain catch in the light, and you find you can't look at him for too long. He's too hot.

But then he's reaching down for your clit as he fucks into you. Has your legs shaking. The waves of a familiar sensation begin to lap against the shores of your pleasure.

"Fuck," you whine. "Feels good. Keep it like that."

Jungkook knows better than to ignore your requests. Does as he's told, the pressure of his fingers on your clit only deepening. Rubbing calculated circles against you, he knows just how to work you up. Gets you whining. Mewling. Moaning.

"Gonna cum, aren't you?" he smirks, as his own high builds.

"Fuck—"

"C'mon," he husks, feeling your walls tighten around him. He doesn't stop his relentless chase. Will win your orgasms fair and square. Continues pounding into you. Pace fast, strokes deep, he's everything you could ever want and more—and then he's slowing. Keeping you plugged, nice and deep, but focusing on the way he's toying with your clit. "You know you wanna cream for me. All over my cock, pretty Nabi. C'mon—"

"I'm close," you all but whimper. "So—fuck. So close."

"Yeah, you are," he tells you—and then your legs are shaking, pussy tightly clamping around his cock, one hand tense against his desk while the other grabs at his wrist. Uncontrollable, is the way you whine for him. It's so needy—so desperate and pathetic—that it's almost a sob. Jungkook doesn't ease up. In fact, his hips gain a little pace again as your orgasm shatters around you both. He's breathless, but manages to choke out, "Flithy fuckin' cunt. Feels so fuckin' good. Fuck."

The frail limpness of your body as the orgasm smokes away is cute. Jungkook loves it. You're so weak for him. He fucks into you still, chasing his own high, and your whines only get louder. It's overwhelming, but you never want to lose the feeling.

It doesn't take much. Just a minute or so of your tight cunt, and Jungkook is pulling out. Even though he doesn't ask you to, you get to your knees as he tears the condom off.

"In my mouth," you beg, and who is he to reject such an offer?

Jerking himself to completion, Jungkook is all pretty and pathetic when he cums, too. Looks at you with eyes so starry you'd been forgiven for thinking he was a descendant of the constellations.

He milks the final few spurts of himself onto your wet tongue, and curses when you press dainty kisses to his tip. Stroking your tongue against him, you don't want to waste a drop. Look up at him and find that his eyes are resting shut from the pleasure of it all.

Silence surrounds you both, just your beating hearts and laboured breaths filling to the room. He helps you up. Holds you tight. Hugs you for a little while, then presses a kiss to the side of your head. "Thanks."

"My pleasure," you giggle - and then he's smiling, too. Feels vindicated by his irrational thoughts about you over the last few days. He pays no mind to the fact you're still technically dressed, and he's basically naked.

As he sorts himself out, you perch back up on his desk and languidly swing your legs. Enjoy the thought of memories plaguing him whenever he tried to play his little games over the next few days.

"You wanna grab a shower?" he offers. "Food, too? Dunno about you, but I'm fuckin' starving."

"Same," you nod, biting down on your bottom lip. "I'll go wash up, you sort food? Are places still open for delivery?"

Checking his phone for the time, Jungkook is surprised that it's closer to midnight than it is to his morning alarm. Only a handful of places will offer delivery at this time, but that's enough.

"Works for me," he says with a yawn, then opens what you had assumed was the closet door. Reveals an en-suite and knocks his head to the side. "Get your shower. Gimmie a shout if you need anything."

Tiles large and grey, it's the perfect counterpart to his bedroom. A little dark, but it's only because Jungkook hates using the big light. Always flicks the small light switches instead. There's a window overlooking the city, and even though you're only seven floors up, the hills of Yongsan-gu mean that he's got a view you could only dream of.

You're about to start the shower up when he calls through. "Is pizza good?"

"Pizza's good," you call back with a smile. Look yourself in the mirror and wonder how the fuck you ended up in the bathroom of arguably the most famous person you've ever met. Decide it's better not to question it.

The shower begins to cascade down, even if your sins are washed way, you know you won't be able to forget the feeling of Jungkook so easily.

Truth be told, you won't even try.

YONSEI UNIVERSITY DORMS DAESIN-DONG, SEODAEMUN-GU SUNDAY 21:13

"L in the chat," booms the voice of Taehyung through your laptop speakers. His trademark grin rests on his face as he teases Jungkook.

You've only just opened the stream. Instantly, you focus on the prettily lopsided smirk of Jungkook's lips. You've learned it's an almost permanent fixture on his boyish face. Shaking his head, he's adjusting his headset. Making it a little looser so that it'll fit him properly.

No one is questioning it.

What they are questioning, is where the fuck that pretty purple bruise on his neck has come from.

"Cross-fit," Jungkook just shrugs, knowing that it's the colloquial term for suspicious bruises after some idol used the same excuse. Blatant horseshit. Jungkook doesn't care.

"I've never done cross-fit, but I know you're bullshitting," Taehyung snorts.

The chat seems to agree with him.

"Thought I was a virgin?" Jungkook states a little cheekily, making reference to Taehyung's usual banter. "How else would I get one?"

Taehyung knows better than the retort. Knows that Jungkook could very easily slip something about Rae into the conversation.

Virgin? You type through a message on a private discord chat with Jungkook. He'd set it up the day before. Has already sent you, like, a thousand messages. Is what can only be described as obsessed—but it's mutual. Could have fooled me.

As his eyes glance down to his laptop screen, he fails to hide his smile. Had opened your chat on there, cause he didn't wanna accidentally broadcast the messages onto his stream. Despite this, he doesn't care that there are nearly 10,000 people in his stream merely minutes into it. Is far more interested in his chat thread with you. Replies immediately.

Stop distracting meI'm working</3

Giggling as the message pings through to you, there's a giddy quality to the way Jungkook makes you feel.

He'd spent the day in bed with you after your night together. Had wanted you to stay when he started streaming that evening. Said he'd only be an hour or so, and was incredibly pouty when you did leave.

It had just been him on last night's stream—headset off 'cause he didn't wanna adjust it back yet, hoodie on to hide his neck. The other boys were nursing hangovers, so he could do what he liked.

What he did do had you incredibly curious. Was just chatting. Talking to the comment section. Sleepily reeling off facts he'd recently learned about butterflies. Debating over their lifespan.

You're not naive to the fact that Jungkook does this streaming stuff as a profession, and are aware that the more people talking about his stream on other platforms, the more viewers he'll get.

Made sense for him to add fuel to the butterfly-related fire by talking about them.

Had sent you a message earlier that evening to ask what kind of butterfly you had on your skin.

A Monarch, you'd told him.

"See, the thing is," Jungkook had rambled to his viewers a little later on. "Most butterflies have super short lifespans—Monarch's included."

Eyes all starry, lights in his bedroom purple as per usual, he'd looked cosy. You wished you'd have stayed.

"But there's a specific kind. Migrating Monarchs. They're the last of their generation—the final butterflies of the year," he marvelled at the magic of it all.

His facts were a little hazy, but he knew enough. Had been down a you-shaped rabbit hole all afternoon.

"And they migrate, right? Move away from home—somewhere warmer—and then it just extends their lifespan. 180 days. Not 30. That's six months. Six months. It's a long time. It's not fleeting. Not in the slightest."

It's also, curiously, exactly how long you're scheduled to stay in Korea for.

"I dunno," Jungkook had just sighed, a little forlorn, trying to make sense of his thoughts.

He bit down on his bottom lip, stroking his thumb against the hard plastic ears of his headset, then focused on the camera again. Wondered if you were watching. 

He simply shrugged. Said, "Counts for something, though, right?"

#byholly #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook ff #jk ff #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #bangtan fic #jungkook fluff #streamer!jungkook #non idol au #bts fanfic #bangtan ff #jungkook fic #jeon jungkook x reader

[gaiathemexicanbeauty]

it only takes a taste | mike schmidt x reader

word count: 1.6k

warnings: none! this is just pure fluff and maybe kind of slowburnish lol

this was loosely based off of it only takes a taste from the waitress musical! :3

idk i just really like the idea of late nights with mike even if he's too tired to even think straight lmao

also don't ask what time period this takes place in, i was born in 2004 and know like 2 things about the 70s-90s or whenever the movie takes place bc its never explicitly mentioned

i also do not regularly bake or cook so do not be afraid to go to my comment section and tell me if something sounds off

i love this man ok, i have said it 1000 times already but i've been in love with him ever since i first saw him when i was like 12 or 13 and was even more so obsessed with rebornica's mike design for YEARS. 12 year old me would have an aneurism if she knew about the fnaf movie

you let out a long yawn, one hand reaching up cover your mouth so as not to potentially ruin the mood of any customers around; granted, there was only two and they were graveyard shifters from somewhere outside of town but customers are customers. you'd been working at sparky's for a couple of months now, figuring it was an easy way to make some cash and keep food on the table. of course, you hadn't accounted for the very long hours that passed where you half debated trying to sneak away since no was around from 2-4:00 am: your boss would kill you, though, and you wanted to stay employed.

soft oldies music plays in the background as you glance over at the clock ticking away on the wall. just as you move to grab a rag to clean the counters for the 5th time during your shift, you hear the bell above the entrance jingle and don't even have to look up to know who it is.

mike wasn't a regular at first, just someone who popped in at random and very quietly asked for a coffee. after a while of starting a new job, he started coming in at almost 11:00 pm everyday and always asking for the same thing: just a plain, black coffee. "seriously?" you had said with a smirk the first time he said his order to you, your eyes widening at the attitude you had just given a customer. fortunately, mike was quick to respond with a tired but good natured laugh, his hands folded in front of him. "i'm all ears if you have other recommendations." he mumbled with a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, giving you instant relief.

now, it was just clockwork. "hey." mike sighs with a soft sigh, rubbing a hand over his eyes as he takes a seat at a chair by the counter you were standing behind. "coffee machine is kind of acting up tonight, you're gonna have to give it a minute. want anything else while you wait?" you say as you approach the counter, giving him a quick smile. mike is about to decline your offer, his lips parting to say something before his eyes land on something on the farther end of the counter. "what about that? still good?" "you're just in time. i was going to take the rest of it home." you say with a smile, walking over to the cake stand holding an apple pie with only 3 slices left of it. you take the lid off to plate it, handing it over to mike with a hum before bringing him utensils. you don't even get the chance to bring up to him that the slices have been sitting there for a couple of hours, blinking in shock at the way he's quick to start eating.

you turn your back to start taking down the chalkboard advertising the special from the day before, giving mike his one moment of quiet you were sure he needed. you start to think about what your day will consist of once you're done with your shift, dreading having to clean your room before you can actually sleep. "did you make this?" "yeah. why, is it bad?" you say with a chuckle, turning to look at mike again; your eyes widen a bit at the way mike is looking at you, his own eyes looking at you like he can't believe what he just put it in his mouth. "no, no, it's..it's really good, like. really good." your cheeks redden a bit at the sudden compliment, pushing a piece of hair behind your ear as you occasionally glance at him enjoying the pie you'd made; you wouldn't say you were amazing at cooking but you definitely knew enough to make a meal that would do more than just feed you.

it also didn't help that you'd been harboring a crush on mike for the past month. that you were aware of, he didn't have a partner of any kind but that might have been more to do with the fact he didn't have time for one than anything else. you at first brushed it off as just not having contact with anyone your age that late at night, just enjoying his company when nights got lonely. but you couldn't deny the way you would style your hair a bit differently or try a new perfume in the hopes of getting a compliment from mike; to your absolute pleasure, he almost always pointed it out. now to hear this sudden praise for your cooking took you out of your element.

"thanks, really, but i make it all the time. i can make thousands like it and they'll all be the same." you say with a light chuckle, crossing your arms against your chest as you look over at the cake stand sheepishly. "then maybe you should consider getting a day job making these instead." mike says between bites, giving you a playful smile. you can't help but scoff despite the smile on your face, looking over at mike again. "well, if it's that easy, maybe YOU should quit your job and come and join me. keep me company." the two of you have a quiet laugh, your cheeks reddening at the indirect compliment you had paid him. once his plate is empty, you take it away from him just to have an excuse to do something with your hands (also to get away from the almost fond look that mike was giving you right now, definitely not on par for him). there's a tense silence between the two of you before mike speaks up, clearing his throat when he speaks. "uh, i tried making that at home. the pie, i mean. i don't remember what kind it was right now, but it definitely didn't end as well as that." he says with a nervous laugh, hands folded in front of him again as you hear the coffee machine start to pour out his drink.

"well, what exactly did you do wrong?" with surprisingly no hesitance, mike goes on to tell the story of how sure he was about this recipe he'd seen in a catalogue, going above and beyond to make sure this "stupid thing" (his words) came out right. little did he know leaving his creation unattended for even a second would result in smoke pouring out of the oven and having to throw out a charred-black pastry; "and then abby went and acted like we could just go and do it all over again and.." mike starts, hands waving around uncharacteristically as he finished off his story. he caught the way you were trying to hold back a laugh, fingers pressed to your lips that were etched into a small smile. "it's ok, you can laugh all you want. i never tried doing it again." you can't help the laugh that leaves you once he gives you his full permission, still trying to keep your voice down. "i-i'm sorry, really.." you giggle once you've calmed down, rubbing your hands over your face before you start to walk around the counter to where mike is sitting. "but that's not how making a pie works. you can't just leave it like that or give up on the process that easily."

mike makes a face that says 'i'm listening', shrugging his shoulders when you sit on the stool next to him. "making a pie is like.." you start with a sigh, hands propping up your chin in thought as you look up at the clock. "you just know when some things feel right. if something is too much or too little, whether you need to start again or not. lord knows i've had to redo entire pies because the crust wasn't flaky enough or the filling didn't taste like apples enough." you say, chuckling a bit as you remember all the times you'd slaved away for almost entire days trying to nail down the perfect home recipe. you take a minute to think again, sitting back a bit as you smooth down your apron tied around your waist. "and it also doesn't help if you make something just to make something. when you bake or just cook a plain old steak, you have to make it like you're crafting a story or making a song. all of my best meals were made with someone or something in mind."

your cheeks go red again when you realize the very unprompted ramble you went on, a nervous laugh leaving you as you look down at your lap. "sorry, you totally don't have to-" "no, no, i-" the two of you jump a bit at the way you both try to speak first, sheepish smiles tugging at your lips before you go quiet again. the bell above the door jingles and you don't have to look up to know the two of you are alone now. "i like hearing about that sort of stuff. i really only hear about it when i'm here with you and it's..nice. different." your heart soars and you can only hope that mike can't somehow feel or hear it, trying to give him a warm smile without saying something you'll regret. you get up from your seat with a when he checks his watch, knowing that's code for 'i need to go' even before he stands. you're almost sure he'll leave without saying anything which you are simultaneously grateful for and hoped he wouldn't do, already busying yourself with some other menial task. "hey."

you look up almost as soon as he speaks, seeing the smile tugging at his lips and not able to contain your own. "save those leftovers for me. i hope it still tastes like you were trying to make it for me when i get back." he says, a smug look in his eyes as your lips part a bit in shock. you try to call out to him before he jogs out to his car, taking off accordingly.

-> ta da its done! :D &lt;-

this was honestly less romantic than i wanted it to be but i promise that my brain is racked with thoughts of him literally EVERY DAY so mayhaps i can write something else that's more up to par one of these days

but thank yall for reading! :D i haven't been able to pump out a oneshot like this for a while and it felt good to write something longer than a couple of paragraphs, i have missed this account sm 🐺💗 love yall and i hope that you all are having a fantastic day!

#mike schmidt #mike schmidt fanfic #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #fnaf #oneshot #x reader #fnaf movie #five nights at freddy's #josh hutcherson #michael schmidt x reader #fnaf x reader #fnaf x you

[tanadrin]

i think you can make a plausible argument that it was the cultural reaction to 9/11 that killed the star trek franchise for a long time. without rehashing the politics of the 00s too much, there were two possible reactions to something like 9/11, what we might term the "oklahoma city" reaction and the reaction we actually got. 9/11 could have been viewed as a major tragedy but ultimately a criminal act, one which had to be dealt with by the civil authorities like the mcveigh bombing or other notable incidents of deadly terrorism on US soil prior to that date. instead though it was largely conceived of as a foreign military threat, encouraged no doubt by an administration that wanted to pursue a more vigorous foreign policy, and we got, well--*gestures at the first two decades of the 21st century*

this really soured the national political mood--it made the cultural zeitgeist one of paranoia and violent revenge fantasies. it gave us 24, and Taken, and while I'm not sure it's wholly responsible for the reboot of BSG (there's a throughline there with Ronald D. Moore's other work) it certainly contributed to an environment that was receptive to it. and i think in that environment 90s end-of-history optimism about the future, though it should have been a welcome corrective to all that cynicism and paranoia, simply felt like an anachronism. enterprise did last a few years, but only four seasons in total, the shortest run since TOS. the only movie we got in that era before the big hiatus was Nemesis, a movie about terrorism and a foreign threat that just felt kind of weird and incoherent.

and that was the problem for star trek in that era: if you take the utopianism out of roddenberry's future, you're not left with anything interesting. utopianism is the whole justification for these guys exploring space and going boldly and whatnot, the whole reason why the federation is worth rooting for over any of the other guys. i think a big reason the jj abrams movies fail to have any real substance is that they try to make star trek an action-adventure thing, when that was never its strong suit--indeed, TOS fight scenes are notoriously bad!--and it really took until discovery before people were willing to make star trek qua star trek again.

but even then, there's a degree of pessimism at the core of (some of) post-hiatus star trek that sits uncomfortably with the show's original utopian vision. some of this is just the usual metastasization of conceits that worked better as one-offs or very sparingly at most, comparable to the way the borg got beaten into the ground by voyager. but the heavy reliance on elements like section 34 and the mirror universe and the postapocalyptic future and the crapsack alpha quadrant of picard all to me speak of a certain yearning for utopia--a nostalgia for the utopias of the 90s--but much greater cynicism about the relevance of utopian fiction to our day-to-day lives.

#this is not to knock bsg #i like bsg a lot! #but it is really such an artifact of its time #star trek

[p-redux]

So, more info from Hyrox Glasgow 2024! Again, thanks Team for all the DMs, I really appreciate you! ❤️

Reminder of what I posted yesterday.

And

So, today, I get this video of Sarah Holden competing at Hyrox Glasgow, and you can CLEARLY hear Sam Heughan cheering her on. Sam's voice is at the very end. At the beginning, you hear a man with a thick Glasgow accent pronouncing Sarah's name Serah. That's NOT Sam. There's also a woman's voice. And at the END of the video, you can hear Sam's unmistakable "C'mon, Sarah!" This was shared by one of the Team and I saved it to my YouTube Channel. Enjoy!👇

I also received this DM with additional info. 👇 Posted with permission.

Here's the pic where Sam is tagged. 👇

And Sarah posting she got FOMO aka Fear Of Missing Out and spontaneously competed today in the women's open race. 👇 She definitely matches Sam's energy level! I'm tired just looking at her. 😊

Anyhoooo, I also got some conflicting info regarding whether Sam competed yesterday after all. I was alerted to this Tweet. 👇

And then I received this DM from someone I've never talked to. 👇

It's all very confusing. On the one hand, it is weird that if Sam competed, he never posted anything on his own IG. On the other hand, Hyrox DID post his results as if he DID compete yesterday. 👇

If Sam decided to not compete and wanted to give his slot to someone else, why wouldn't Hyrox be able to substitute the other man's name? Everything is computerized, so I don't see why they couldn't have made the change easily. Also, isn't it fraudulent to post results with Sam Heughan's name if he wasn't the one competing?

On the flip side, if Sam didn't actually compete, then he literally went to Hyrox to watch Sarah! Those saying "No, he went to watch his friend, Valbo. who also competed." Yeah, except Valbo didn't compete until 6:00 PM yesterday, and Sam was there at 12:00 PM, when the women's competitions started. Literally RIGHT THERE where Sarah was competing. 👇

No reason for Sam to be there 6 HOURS before Valbo was competing if he only went to support Valbo. 🤷‍♀️

I ran out of room to post pics since Tumblr limits to 10 pics, but I also got a DM saying Sam got a bunch of new Instagram follows who are Sarah Holden fans. That leads me to think they went to follow him because they saw him with Sarah at Hyrox.

So, that's it for now. I'm in the process of vetting someone from the Glasgowish area who approached me with some Sam and Sarah info. If she and the info check out, then I'll post it.

PS. I'm hearing from people that my usual haters and assorted newish haters are gnashing their teeth about my #samarah posts...same as it ever was. This has happened any time I've ever posted about Sam possibly dating someone. If you look at my track record for the last 10 years, my info has been at least 90% accurate. No one in the Outlander fandom would have known about Cait and Tony, and Sam and Cody, Abbie, Mackenzie, etc if not for my INSIDER source info, and me posting it FIRST. Facts, people. So, the hate makes no never mind to me. I keep doing me. I'm here for those who want the info. If that's not you, go somewhere else. Simple as that.

Oh, one more thing...the LIE that I have a restraining order against me from Sam resurfaced in my Inbox. Let's use our brains once in our lifetime, shall we? If I had a restraining order or a cease and desist, I wouldn't still be here, now would I? Doh. 🤦‍♀️ My blog is just like any celebrity news blog. It's called freedom of speech, peeps. And in the USA people have died to protect this right. That's all, folks.

#samheughan #sam heughan #sarah holden #samarah #hyrox #hyrox glasgow #big red oliver #valbo #results #haters gonna hate #freedom of speech

[redjaybathood]

To elaborate, I don't have an issue with people having different takes on the character. Give me two Jason stans and you will get three versions of Jason. It's inevitable with how different his comics are thematically and in how they depict Jason. Jason in the 00s was a villain and a foil, Jason in 10s was a major character in his own right. Jason now is mowed down by Zdarsky and told interesting stories with by Rosenberg. Jason is back to grassroots type vigilante he never really was in Martinborough's work. Jason was a sweet child pre-Crisis and was intentionally moved toward a tragedy in Starlin's run. Jason was an afterthought, a cautionary tale, a ghost of subconsciousness, a fridged woman, a foil, again - or first, in the 90s and early 00s. Titans Jason - the only live action depiction of Jason - was a case of missed potential; great drama material, but with speed-run of the UtRH storyline with unnecessary changes made him inconsistent.

If you consider him a psycho, okay, it's there in Morrison's work. If you want to say he's morally inconsistent, you can point out how he went from Bruce's foil to Dick's to Tim's, even Mia Dresden's. Which, it all required tweaking, because these four are not the same, so their foil couldn't be either.

But isn't it the case with all the characters? "Catwoman cares about Bowery" the only thing she cares for the last ten years with any consistency is her boyfriend. That's not who she is anymore. Why would you insist someone to pick your version of Catwoman but you refuse to acknowledge that other fans can do the same with their favorite character?

And you, Jason fans, who are always self-disparaging, who always feel the need to get other characters' fans approval, the need for disclaimer: Jason Todd is a Terrible Person, I'm Not Like Other Jason Fans Who Deny That - can you stop? Like what even makes you like him as a character and not a function, if you think he's so terrible, so hypocritical, so this and so that, without any reason or explanation? No, I am serious: what is it that makes him so compelling for you? If he's irredeemable, if he's a loser, if he's all second-hand fanons, if he's a lesser Helena Bertinelli or Selina Kyle or anyone else?

#jason todd #fandom discourse

[mylittleredgirl]

20 questions for fic writers

tagged by @geneeste. :) i may have done this one before, but tumblr blog search was traditionally unhelpful and i have several very important things i should be doing, so here we are <3

1. How many works do you have on Ao3? 219

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count? 655,471

3. What fandoms do you write for?

stargate atlantis is the runaway lead, then sg-1, 90s/00s treks, the x-files, and a grab bag of other things. only two fics so far for m*a*s*h but the forecast looks good!

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

no sooner met (star trek voyager, j/c, eight years of friends-to-lovers in 5k or less)

career day (stargate sg-1, clone!sam/jack, damn that sure was a choice to go back to high school amirite)

next chapter (the good place, chidi/eleanor, the intimacy of reading)

first date (star trek voyager, j/c, falling in love again)

occupational hazards (the good place, chidi/eleanor, eleanor would rather not be the architect)

5. Do you respond to comments?

eventually!!!! i tend to keep nice ones on my home page for a while to cheer me up and then sometimes they get buried. i wake up nights like "damn the good place fandom really went all out with amazing comments on that random fic in like 2018 and i never replied," so maybe i need to go through my inbox and belatedly clear my cosmic debts.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

twilight (stargate atlantis, sheppard/weir, what if john didn't break the cycle). strong on style but real weak on comfort.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

weaving loose ends (stargate sg-1, sam/jack) ends with a wedding! in twenty years of writing romance fic, that has maybe only happened once?

8. Do you get hate on fics?

not yet! but the year is young.

a fic of mine did cause a dramatic fandom schism once, in the dancing with the stars fandom no less. a splinter fan group created in exile! a mod claiming to be personal friends with the stars! everybody storming out and then blocking each other! so my fic did cause hate, but somehow i personally escaped unscathed. i didn't even get blocked. (lesson: in some spaces, rpf is encouraged until They Fuck. second lesson: if you start a fire and then stay very quiet, everyone forgets about you.)

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

i do!! i guess!! but i'm struggling with it right now and it's giving me a complex. and "what kind" is like......... vanilla het fic for the most part tbh. gauzy curtain vibes, even. basically, i have to really sit and think about whether to rate something M or E, you know?

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

nope!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

nope!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? 

yes, but not since the x-files days. rip geocities webrings we salute you for your years of service.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

no, but i think i'd like to! passing chapters back and forth sleepover style like "haha write your way out of THIS" would be fun. (or collaborating in a more mundane way, i guess....)

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

john sheppard/elizabeth weir (stargate atlantis). first fic in the tag and i'm still fuckin there. three years on tv and a lifetime in my goddamn brain.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

realistically, i'm feeling pretty down on the chances that i'll ever finish ANY wip that's longer than 20k, but the two long ones withering on the vine that i'd like to finish are a sam/jack sg1 episodic soulmate fic and "what if janeway went undercover with the maquis instead of tuvok: the novel."

16. What are your writing strengths?

stealing one of geneeste's answers because "character complexity" is a good one! i don't feel satisfied with any fic unless i feel like i have learned something new about a character, or highlighted it in a new way.

my more specific strength, according to @coraclavia, is missing-scene fics that weave through an entire series canon to make a thesis statement (they are In Love).

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

😭 i can't write anything long 😭 i really wish i were different 😭 i envy those of you with staying power who can return to a story after going to work or writing something else and keep plugging away at it. i used to write sprawling things when i was a teen, but since becoming Adult With Job now many years ago, i've totally lost that skill!!

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

haaaahahahaha. talk about a weakness. i literally couldn't bring myself to write a fic that required dialogue in Ancient from stargate, a language that -- i cannot stress this enough -- is not even real. i'm like "well maybe i'll study latin for three years and then analyze all the episodes where they speak it to reverse engineer the differences so i can write the bastardized space latin correctly" GIRL WHY. JUST FUCK IT UP.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

first completed story that i recall would have been star trek voyager in my early teens, and by the grace of rural internet and some kind of prescient sense of self-preservation, it does not live online. first internet-published fic was several years later, for the x-files. for better or worse, that one can still be found.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

i think pieces (stargate atlantis, sheppard/weir, catharsis through sex pollen) might be the new best, and i had a lot of fun writing erasers on pencils (stargate sg-1, clone!sam/jack, catharsis through truancy).

--

i am sure many of my fic-writer-meme friends have done this already but @ussjellyfish if your answers have changed since whenever you did it last; i'd love to hear how @havocthecat, @anretc, and @coraclavia would answer this; and blowing dandelion meme seeds over the fence to the mash fandom: @remyfire!

#when i say i write short one-shots i just did some napkin math #and my average word count is below 3k and several of my longest 'fics' are collections #NOT BEATING THE ALLEGATIONS #fic asks #mai fic #i think i might find this under one of those tags the next time someone tags me so i will know for sure i've done it...

[thursdaygrl]

now that i'm back in indie i figured i'd make a little wishlist of some things i want now that i've had some time to think about it. this'll be a mix of plots/dynamics and some more basic things to elaborate. if you like this i'll come to you for plotting!

age gap romances cause i'm trash and i can't help it. especially if inspired by this but i'm down for any kind of dynamic really. i'm down to play either but i have a slight pref for playing the older muse and would be down to use one of my muses (adrian or moira), or one of the fcs i like but don't have a set muse for yet (gina gershon, jeffrey dean morgan, madchen amick, raúl esparza, joe manganiello, adam driver, mari yamamoto, david harbour).

toxic intense weird f/f stuff always pls. inspo.

if i don't have a logan/veronica from veronica mars inspired enemies to lovers thing.. i will cry.

i need exes or even like they never even got that far. situationship to enemies to friends to lovers? the gruelling path back towards being together again. i want PAIN. inspo.

👀 possibly some slightly kinkier smutty stuff i miss it

hot & heavy by lucy dacus inspired — the angst of your first love, homoerotic teenage best friend angst coming back to haunt you, bitterness and nostalgia mingling in the worst way, you hate her and you still love her after all this time. optional: period piece (70s, 80s, 90s, early 00s), a dead friend dragging them back to town, one of them is still closeted. 

scooby doo inspired, college cryptid/supernatural hunters  — they’re the only ones who believe and maybe that’s okay, could be a mumu/could utilise npc characters if we’d like a group. optional: more of a buffy style scooby gang who are solving problems/include creatures in it. 

normal people vibes. always. i need it. i will die.

figure skating or dance partners one of my favourite tropes ever!!!!

sister's bf or female best friend plot for dove. i love complicating the relationship with her sister further.

literally anything for elias where i can explore their backstory and have them fall in love.

messy choreographer/dancer thing for grayson.

best friends to lovers for jacob.

good girl/asshole or a kind of grumpy/sunshine dynamic for letha. someone who pushes her out of her shell.

anything for river. always. that's literally my favourite muse.

messy fwb with feelings for rowan.

any sort of opposites attract dynamic for sosie. she's a bitchy rich sorority girl with a bad attitude, i'd love for her to meet her match.

a rivals/enemies to lovers dynamic with a rival soccer player for stevie. alternatively stealing a friend's girl who she thought was straight.

i'm predictable and want a younger sister's best friend thing for warner i don't care!!!! it's fun!!!

#indie rp #indie smut rp #indie bi rp #indie lesbian rp

[lazaruspiss]

What ur fav Batman-adjacent character says about you (WARNING: not to be taken seriously)

Batman: there's like three different wildly different divisions of y'all. dude bros who only watch the movies, tumblrinas who only read the fic, and people who want to study this fucked up old man like a bug.

Robin (Dick): a sucker for the classics. you're either pretty wholesome or fucking deranged (affectionate).

Nightwing: gay and/or trauma. not applicable to new52 fans. i don't know who that Nightwing is. never met that man before in my life.

Robin (Jason): really into poetry. probably processing a lot of not-so-good things.

Red Hood: gay and/or trauma (but you're still into poetry). either really eloquent and well thought out or one of the shittiest people I've ever met in my life. most are the former, don't think about it too hard.

Robin (Tim): "he was a sk8r boi, she said c u l8r boi". you're a late 90s/early 00s kid and/or enjoyer. probably at least a mild Nightwing fan by extention of Tim's whole deal.

Red Robin: you're sad, tired, and need someone to project onto. or you're just into femboys. the most likely to get into the weirdest fandom beef.

Robin (...Tim? Again?): what's happening in there (new52)??

Robin (Damian): you have more patience than others for difficult kids. or you just read a fanfic with his edges sanded off and have never met a human child before.

Batgirl (Babs): you need to grow up a little. or you only read new52. are you okay?

Oracle: you like a woman who is a bit /too/ mean to you. you've also been completely done dirty by DC and i send you my sincere condolences.

Robin (Steph): you're a bit of a goofball, and you may or may not have a complicated relationship with an older man.

Batgirl (Steph): I'll be real with you, I keep forgetting that even happened. I think she gets called flat chested and mistaken for Damian's girlfriend or something? I'm so sorry.

Spoiler: you want to kill your dad and go out for milkshakes with the gang after.

Batgirl (Cass): "...tumblrinas who only read the fic, [or] people who want to study this fucked up [woman] like a bug." sometimes the two are distinguishable by whether or not they acknowledge her as an adult.

Orphan: same as prior, but you like Batman less.

Batwoman: woman-liker. probably a bit representation starved.

Alfred: you're either trying too hard to be different or you haven't spent enough time with your grandparents to realize that they're probably just as fucked up as everyone else.

#if u take this too seriously im sueing u

[inscrutable-shadow]

the sanguine thread that binds our fate

@crash-bump-bring-the-whump asked:

21 “Please be okay. Please be okay, please be okay—” with dealer's choice for oc c:

a/n: this got. very long lol and tumblr ate the version i answered your ask with i'm sorry :/ i edited it all over again just for you

tumblr hates my experimental prose so please do read it on ao3 if you can ily

contains: mild gore, nausea (no vomiting), panic attacks, prescription benzos, car accident, m/m romance, blood drinking, alcohol

did my best to make sure the gist of all the code segments were properly explained in the prose so that if you're not programmer brained it makes sense still lol. temperature units are kelvin, all velocities in m/s, force in newtons, BAC in mg/dL.

Takes place during the Divine Descension arc, during which the Archfey gives up aer divinity for a year to live with Thanatos on Kepler 22-b, a human colony designed to replicate the late 90s/early 00s. Ae works at a coffee shop and goes to a knitting club. :) not relevant i just thought you should know

Rea liked it when Thanatos came to walk aer home from work. Ae was perfectly capable of making the journey on aer own, of course — it was only twenty minutes and ae could actually cross the street without supervision — but when Thanatos came, they could walk with their fingers laced together and he would smile while he told aer about his day in the office or at home and it always seemed as if nothing could be wrong in the world.

ambient.temperature = 298 proximity.scan(Thanatos[lover]) = true return emotional.state(happy!)

It was a bit strange thinking of aerself as "Rea." Ae always called aerself Space in aer own head, because that was what Time called aer, but ae was certainly not the Divine Reality or even the Archfey in this so-much-more-mortal body. Rea wondered sometimes if ae was truly experiencing what it was like to be human, or if it was merely what it felt like to be a sapient concept with its soul bonded to an artificially-woven human brain. Ae would never know anything different, so ae supposed it didn't matter. Ae liked being Thanatos's Rea. The concept-made-human turned in lazy circles, passing Thanatos's hand from one of aer own to the other as ae revolved aer way down the street

angular.velocity = 63 linear.velocity = 1.2 radiant.temperature[Thanatos[lover].hand] = 302 return emotional.state(happy!!)

"Rea." Oh, yes. Thanatos was talking now. Time to pay attention. Thanatos's image tilted slightly as ae halted aer spinning to look at him.

system[vestibular].recalibrate()

"Yes, my love?" Ae grinned. Couldn't help it, really. Seeing his face had that effect on aer.

He smiled a little too. "I'm glad you're having fun, but we need to cross the street now, all right? We need to be careful."

"Can I press the button, Thanatos?"

"Yes, you can press the button. And then we're going to look both ways, right?"

Ae laughed. "Of course, my love. Look both ways carefully. I have not been hit before, have I?" Ae'd only jumped out into the street once chasing a butterfly, and now he had to behave this way every time. Rea had just forgotten ae wasn't the Archfey at the time. A concept could get very used to being indestructible.

Ae pushed the button. A robotic male voice indicated that the two of them should "wait." Rea slipped one hand into the pocket of aer khaki slacks and the other into Thanatos's hand. He squeezed back and gave aer a smile, though the brown eyes behind his spectacles were gazing off into the distance and bringing his thoughts with them. What was he thinking about? Ae couldn't feel his soul now the way ae could when ae was Reality. It was… strange. As excited as ae was for all the new ways ae could experience Thanatos now that ae was mortal, ae missed that. Knowing when he was hiding his feelings. Seeing through his little lies. Not that ae couldn't do that now. It was just a slightly more troublesome matter of analyzing his facial expressions and tone of voice. That was all right. Rea was here to learn, after all.

Thanatos[lover].soul.resonance = NULL visual.input[walk.sign.status] = "red" Thanatos[lover].get(emotional.state).ping(callback()) self.interoception.alert(hungry) Thanatos[lover].fetch(emotional.state) = {positive, pensive, loving} action.required = none return emotional.state(happy!)

The walk sign changed to the white figure of a man mid-stride. Rea had asked Thanatos about this, and he had explained that it was an indicator to people who may not read the local language that it was safe to proceed. Rea did not read any language, but it didn't matter, because Thanatos was there, and he could. The two of them looked both ways, Thanatos normally, and Rea in a comically exaggerated manner calculated to get him to laugh, and then he led aer into the street. This was a quiet road close to the apartment complex, and there were no indications that there had been anyone down it for several minutes at least.

"What do you think about Brian's tonight, dearheart?" Thanatos said suddenly, breaking his train of thought. "Put you in something nice, take you out on the town? Maybe a movie after?"

A date! Thanatos was going to take aer out on a date! And to aer favorite restaurant too. Ae still got just as excited about it every time, even after all the millennia they'd spent together. "Yes, yes! I am hungry. Should I wear the blue dress? Or the argyle sweater? And can we see the one with the Matthew Damon? I like that one. Or we could- oof!" Ae sat down hard on the pavement, the tender flesh of aer wrists scraping open and sending shocks of pain up aer arms.

self.interoception.alert(pain!!!) self.damage.percentile = 10 update.status(injured[dermal.hand[quan=2]]) analysis(cause[injury])) = fall analysis(cause[fall])) = Thanatos[lover].push[force=68] analysis(cause[Thanatos[lover].push]).ping(callback()) return emotional.state(confusion)

What had happened?

visual.input[identify.shape] = "ford f-150" vehicle.speed = 35.9 self.danger.percentile = 92 analysis(cause[Thanatos[lover].push]) = reduce(self.danger.percentile) Thanatos[lover].danger.percentile.ping(callback()) proximity.scan(Thanatos[lover]).ping(callback()) proximity.scan(Thanatos[lover]) = false proximity.scan(Thanatos[lover]).ping(callback()) return emotional.state(panic!!)

It was so much information all at once, ae was struggling to process it all. There had been… a car? And Thanatos had… pushed aer out of the way. Where was he? Where was Thanatos? The truck had come out of nowhere. Ae hadn't sensed it at all, and Thanatos must not have either, or he would have done something before he did. He had enhanced hearing, heightened reflexes. Rea didn't, ae was a mere mortal now. Where was he? Where was he?

Focus. What did ae remember? Ae'd turned back to talk to him, he'd pushed aer in the chest, ae'd… seen the truck hit him. By the celestial river. Ae'd seen it hit him. He'd been sent… flying… calculate the angle. Probable trajectory. There!

visual.input[identify.shape] = Thanatos[lover] Thanatos[lover].danger.percentile = 40 Thanatos[lover].damage.percentile = 70 visual.input[identify] = Thanatos[lover].blood!!! Thanatos[lover].soul.resonance = NULL return emotional.state(panic!!!!)

Oh, gods, he was a mess. Skin already starting to purple, limbs sticking out at unnatural angles, blood streaming from his temple and his nose. It looked like he'd tried to shield himself with Shadow, but hadn't been able to get enough of a barrier up in time to make a difference. He wasn't conscious. He wasn't breathing. Rea couldn't breathe. Aer eyes prickled with tears that quickly obscured aer vision and flowed down aer cheeks to splash Thanatos's face. Was he dying? Was he dead? No, surely not. He was a vampire. Blunt force couldn't just kill them. He'd told aer that. They needed silver or to cut out the heart with wood. His heart! Was it intact?

His tie was ruined, of course, and ae pulled it off, extremely aware of the bruising on Thanatos's throat and the conspicuous stillness of his chest. He didn't need to breathe. Ae knew that. But he almost always did, unless he was doing something that would be easier without it. Would they ever…? No. Can’t think about that. Check his heart. His sweater-vest was torn already, and ae didn't know why ae was so painstaking in unbuttoning his shirt when it was clearly ruined. A horrible purple-and-black bruise spread over Thanatos's chest, but there was nothing that could have impaled his heart. He was safe. Wasn't he?

Thanatos[lover].soul.resonance = NULL analysis(predict("life without Thanatos")).ping(callback()) Thanatos[lover].damage.percentile = 80 analysis(predict()) = exception.failed Thanatos[lover].soul.resonance = NULL

Thanatos's left arm wasn't broken, and ae delicately took his hand in aer own and lifted it to aer lips, still struggling to process what was happening. He couldn't leave aer like this. He had to be safe. "Please, Thanatos," ae whispered, "please be all right… Please wake up. I cannot—I am not ready to go on without you. I cannot… do this alone, please, Thanatos, I need you—" His sleeve slid downward with the movement, revealing the jade bracelet containing the Divine Reality's power. Ae could take it, give up aer mortality and get aer soulweaving back, maybe be able to do something for him. He wouldn't want aer to do it. He'd guarded the power so carefully, kept it out of the hands of both usurpers and Rea aerself. They'd both been so determined to finish the experiment. But if he needed aer, then the experiment would just have to be a wash. Ae had the rest of eternity to experience humanity. He only had one life.

Thanatos[lover].soul.weave(form[physical].repair) return error("access denied. requires administrator permissions.") initiate("DivineReality.runtime") error = "ACCESS DENIED" await(input(JADE.BRACELET.AUTH.KEY)).ping(callback()) return auth.output("authenticating...")

Rea pressed aer fingers to the stone, awaiting the surge of magic that would signal the return of the Divine Reality, but instead of the hot burst of power, ae felt cold fingers grasping at aer wrist. "What are you doing, my love?" The effect of Thanatos's admonishing tone was rather diminished by the way it scraped from his battered throat and had him hacking up chunks of tissue afterward. Rea screamed, then burst into tears.

"Divines, I thought you were dead! How could you do this to me? You are so cruel!" The words were familiar, a staple in their arguments, filling space while ae tried to gather aer scrambled wits. "I -I wanted to help you. I thought that if I got my power back I could-"

"Shh, love, it's all right." His voice could always soothe aer, as damaged as it was. "Vampire, remember? If a little blunt force could kill me permanently, I wouldn't have made it this far. I just lost consciousness for a moment, that's all."

How could he be so calm? Half of his bones were broken, he must have been in a monumental amount of pain. It was even his broken arm he was gripping aer wrist with. Was he used to this? Was this what the war had been like for him? Ae felt so useless and lost. He was always there for aer and ae could never help him when he needed it. Aer mental processes were sparking and stalling, ae needed his direction, anything to make it all stop. "W-What do I do? How do I help you? Than, I-"

Thanatos smiled gently up at aer. "Breathe, dearheart. It's nothing a bit of blood can't cure. Let's focus on getting me out of the street so someone doesn't try to hospitalize me, mm?" Rivulets of his liquid Shadow were already flowing out to drag his shattered limbs back into position. He was so brave. "Don't think I'll be walking any time soon. Are you well enough to carry me? Don't worry, I don't think I could be in much more pain than I already am…" So he could feel it. Was he staying strong just for aer?

Wordlessly, mechanically, Rea lifted Thanatos into her arms. The familiar movement felt so horrifically wrong. Ae'd carried him thousands of times: to the bedroom for sex, back to his own bed after, to the sitting room to watch television together when his curse ailed him, into and out of the bath, just for fun. Without the kisses and laughter, with him so awfully still, trying not to alert her to his suffering, it was of no comfort, and sent lances of distress through aer heart. Ae blanked out between the street and balancing him on aer knee to fit the keys in the lock. A singular directive, “get Thanatos home,” held system failure at bay. Once the door had closed behind aer and ae'd laid Thanatos carefully on the couch, though, it all caved in.

system.respiratory.exception = "conflicting input data" system.motor.exception = "system memory low" sensory.input.exception = "conflicting input data" analysis(cause(system.error)).ping(callback()) error = "analysis failed. system memory low" system.process[sort=memory][0] = "panic.runtime" forcequit(panic.runtime) error = "panic.runtime failed to quit" admin.override(forcequit(panic.runtime)) error = "panic.runtime failed to quit" admin.override[master](forcequit(panic.runtime)) error = "panic.runtime failed to quit"

Ae crashed to aer knees, choking on nothing with a fresh flood of tears blurring aer vision. Aer ears rang and her lungs spasmed. Eyes squeezed shut, swallowing fitfully against nausea. Ae hated when this happened. Ever since the kidnapping, those three nights when ae thought ae'd never see Thanatos again, the panic would claw at aer chest and strangle aer at the worst times. At least ae could let him out of aer sight without breaking down, now, but what if this reset all aer progress? Rea felt like aer mind was shaking itself apart.

"-ea? Rea! Reality, come back to me, come on!" It was Thanatos's voice. Thanatos's hand on aer cheek. Thanatos's patient concern grounding aer for a moment. "Where are your pills, Rea?"

The Xanax. Yes. It could stop this. "In the drawer…"

"Get them. Take your pills, darling. While they kick in, I'll take a little drink, and that should help, too. I'll be fine here for the few seconds it'll take you to retrieve them. Go on, Rea. Keep breathing. We're okay." Yes. Ae'd take the medicine, and then ae could help Thanatos…

Aer hands shook as ae turned the white tablet out into aer palm and swallowed it dry. Returned and sat on the floor in front of the couch, aer back to Thanatos. Executing commands in sequence. Running in standby mode. The gentle kiss and whispered "easy, love" that Thanatos pressed into aer neck before his fangs sliced through both the flesh and the alarms going off in aer mind were a shield against the relentless thoughts. His venom filled aer veins and everything stopped.

self.interoception.alert(pain) self.damage.percentile = 2 update.status(injured[dermal.neck])) analysis(cause(injury)) = Thanatos[lover].feed() self.danger.percentile = 0 Thanatos[lover].input(venom.runtime) self.venom.concentration = effective.percentile[60] error = "panic.runtime failed" system.alert("reduce euphoriant concentration before running panic.runtime") system.process[sort=memory][0].ping(callback()) error = "failed to sort. complex processes restricted." return emotional_status(hazy[positive])

"I love you, Thanatos. Thank you," Rea whispered, and though he couldn't answer, the soft chuckle and gentle squeeze of aer shoulder were enough of a response. Despite his calm demeanor, the desperation in his swallows and the way he trembled against aer back betrayed just how badly he needed this. He must have been fighting so hard not to alarm aer. Rea loved this man with all of aer heart. This foray into mortality had put so much load on him, and he never once complained. Instead, he dressed aer in the mornings, cooked aer meals, helped with her nightmares and panic attacks, and still had time to both work and take her out on dates. He fought off those who wanted the Divine Reality's power for themselves, even though his offensive capabilities were relatively weak. He was incredible. Ae didn't deserve him.

Eventually, Thanatos's fangs detached from Rea's neck, and he sealed the wounds with his tongue, as was his habit. He let out a deep groan as he lay back on the couch, clearly exhausted but not wanting to take more than ae could give. He already looked better, with the bruises on his face and neck beginning to fade and his breath no longer crackling in his lungs. "I don't think I'm feeling Brian's tonight. What do you say we order in instead, eh, love?" he murmured with a smile, fingers pulling at aer sweater. Ae leaned into his touch.

"Pizza?" ae asked. "And box wine? And can we watch Sherlock Holmes? I will bathe you and change your clothes."

"Sure. And you don't have to do that, dearheart. I'll be walking on my own soon enough."

Ae shook aer head. "I want to. It’s the least I can do." He'd taken so much care of aer lately.

A chuckle and a kiss. "Very well, then.

self.interoception.status[hunger].ping(callback()) Thanatos[lover].soul.resonance = NULL proximity.scan(Thanatos[lover]) = true self.interoception.status[hunger] = 0 self.interoception.alert(full!!) self.interoception.alert(fatigue!) self.alcohol[blood].concentration = 0.06 emotional.state().ping(callback()) error = "failed to fetch. use analysis.parse(self.emotional.state) for complex data"

Thanatos hadn’t made it through the opening sequence before his eyes fluttered shut. Rea, with a stomach full of cheese and dough and a head full of boxed Bordeaux, felt aer eyes getting heavy as well. Sleeping on the couch next to him felt very… normal. Or at least as normal as a manifestation-turned-mortal dating a vampire could feel, probably. Ae could almost forget that half of aer lover's bones were shattered and that he'd likely need a few days before he could get out of bed. His chest rose and fell just as gently as it always had, with no indication that twenty minutes ago he'd been trying not to flinch as the last of his wounds clothed in the bath.

Bathing him had been an arduous affair during which ae was fairly certain he'd had a flashback induced by his own post-traumatic stress, as evidenced by the faint outline of a ritual sigil that appeared on his chest, the same way it did after his worst nightmares. He'd just gone silent and unresponsive, and all ae could do was finish as quickly as possible while trying not to jostle him too much. When he looked up at aer, ae couldn't tell if he was seeing his Rea or a stranger. To aer relief, he'd bounced back once he was clean and dry again, but the utter helplessness Rea felt in that moment was the most foreign emotion ae'd ever experienced.

Ae was the Divine Reality, the most powerful being in the universe. Fourteen billion years of being able to warp reality at a whim hadn't prepared her for four thousand with aer handsome vampire or even a single one as a mortal. Everything was new and loud and difficult, and without Thanatos at aer side, Rea might have given up on the whole thing and just chosen to wait out entropy in aer cottage. He'd changed everything, ae owed him so much, and right now, ae couldn't even protect him the way ae always had before. Ae was weak, useless. But he didn’t care. He'd never asked for much more than aer companionship, and that ae was determined to give, no matter what.

The television droned on and Thanatos began to snore softly. He'd be so embarrassed if he knew. Always so obsessed with his suave vampire image. Ae smiled gently, threaded aer fingers through his and let aerself drift, praying to whoever could hear (aerself? Time?) that whatever wind of fate had brought them together would not change.

taglist: @athenswrites, @albatris

#thanatos iuventus #the archfey reality #original fiction #my writing #writeblr #coy writes #whumpblr #coy whumps #wip: rwtv #divine descension arc #wip: ieiunusverse

[dailycass-cain]

Detective Comics #1079 brings a lot of plot points Ram V has been spinning this arc to a head, including the one involving Cass. So here are my thoughts on the penultimate issue.

There's just a fondness I have for this series as THE Batman comic right now. It has an aura of late 90s to early 00s Batman comics spun in a modern angle.

I feel quite at home with this run.

All the protagonists are given their due here. No one is cut short, and we get teased with more entries (because Ram V did say EVERYONE would get their moment and three characters have been quiet until this issue) as the arc reaches its final crossing.

There are a lot of emotional bits here from Lian/Jade's stuff (which feels like we're getting to the final bits for them sadly, which I hope we don't) to the badassery of Azrael (gawd I want more of him in this run).

Then there's Cass's section with Freeze.

It makes complete sense that with Selina's plan in full effect if you haven't figured it out now, that Cass's part was a distraction and an attempt. To get the Orgham distracted so Selina could steal her prize.

It just feels so opposite to what's being presented in Batman and Catwoman comics along with the whole Gotham War debacle, and how rewarding this run is to seeds to prior Ram V runs (Catwoman) and this one.

This is an event done right, with stakes presented as high, villains who are quite imposing, and an emotional rollercoaster ride.

It's said in panels what the Reality Engine does, and we've seen it in action when Bruce tried to stop it. But dammit I SO want to see a story on Cass's struggle against it.

We see it teased in this issue, but a hardened warrior like Cass against this thing? GIMME!

The art here just looks so warped until the predictable occurs. Freeze betrays Cass and Selina's plan. He gets what he wants, and chills out.

Though Selina DID anticipate this, it wasn't her real goal which she does achieve in the issue.

However, I'm curious about what will come with Freeze having access to the Reality Engine and if Cass will have a role in stopping it?

I'm guessing YES.

Though it sort of feels like Cass's role in this arc has come to an end. I mean it feels like it but who knows. That said if it was and this is the final appearance of Cass in 2023.

Dang, I want more Ram V-written Cass goodness, please.

I am curious just how much damage both she and Freeze did as the latter did set off a "freeze bomb" that she escaped from, but there's no telling (until future issues) how the Orgham will recover from this setback.

I'm glad this arc was "bi-weekly". Though, as much kudos I give to the writer, both Jason Shawn Alexander and Liam Sharp deserve so much credit for this arc too. Everything they've drawn in this arc just CLICKS with the writing.

Again, this was another stellar issue, and I can't wait to see where this arc ends. As basically, Selina has won. The question is can she run away with that win or will someone ELSE sneak in? I think the latter might occur.

Look, I know it's highly unlikely but I kind of want a Flamingo vs Cass or Azrael fight. Just two hardened folk going against a foe like Flamingo? Gimme. Let Bruce take on Hurt and finish the Barbatos plot.

Though part of me wonders are Jean Paul and Barbatos linked?

Or even Cass and the Bat Demon?

These just avenues never explored given Jean-Paul did become Batman and is sporting said batty costume in this arc.

This was another fantastic issue on this run and I just wish we'd talk about how AMAZING this series. That and how when this is collected in complete form how KILLER this story will be even more.

#cassandra cain #dc comics #my thoughts

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

All right, I did a post yesterday about the Cowgate incident of 2003, which started because I read the disappointing news that the site of the incident will be closed to the public when I'm in Edinburgh this summer, and I literally read it during a brief period of being awake in the middle of a fever dream. And then of course I made a post about it, because if you wake up in the middle of a fever dream, you always have to post about the real-life incident that most resembles the content of an actual fever dream.

This made me realize it's been a little while since I've actually watched that video, I went through a year or so of re-watching it at least once a week (mainly because it became a go-to re-watch when drunk, particularly near the end of the night when I no longer wanted to focus on anything coherent or longer than a few minutes, personally I'd never want to be at a comedy show while drunk but I do see why they'd do this for a drunk crowd, it appeals to that side of the brain), but I hadn't seen it in six months or so. I thought, I've probably been building this up in my head a bit in the six months of not actually watching it. The idea of Cowgate as a weird drunken fever dream (though one enjoyable thing about it is that besides Adam Hills and the entire audience I'm pretty sure the people involved were sober, as that was sort of the Chocolate Milk Gang's thing, getting their name specifically because they were the only people who didn't get drunk at late-night Edinburgh shows, instead they went for milkshakes across the road) had become a running joke in my mind and sometimes my Tumblr references, but at this point it's more of a symbol than anything else. After writing that post that ran with the joke of it being an iconic violent ritual, I thought it would be fun to spend some of my sick day at home re-watching the actual video, expecting to find that it just looks like relatively expected raucous comedy show shenanigans, not quite as mind-breakingly weird as I remember.

...Guys, it's exactly as I remembered. It's so weird. I've made multiple deep dive Cowgate posts before, but not for at least six months (I think the last time I did it one was for the 20th anniversary, August 26 last year, so almost exactly six months, actually), and I think six months should be long enough to make me allowed to repeat myself on the subject. Because there's almost nothing I haven't said before, but watching it again made me want to say it all again. And I do mean almost - I think I did discover one new detail while watching it between fever dreams yesterday. It's pretty good.

Okay, first of all, here's the video in all its glory:

I cannot emphasize enough how much the first time I came across this it was 2 AM and I had no context for understanding where they were or what was going on. Since then, I have figured out: it's a show called Late 'n' Live. It takes place on many nights throughout the Edinburgh Festival, at a venue called the Gilded Balloon. The Gilded Balloon is owned by Karen Koren. It burned down in 2002 and was rebuilt nearby, this video is from 2003, in the rebuilt venue on Teviot Place. The Late 'n' Live event runs from around 11:30 PM to around 3:30 AM and consists of a bunch of comedians who come on, sometimes to do their own sets and sometimes to do shit like this, managed by a compere, and after that they bring out a band and it turns into a dance floor. At this time, it was known for being a bearpit with a drunk and rough crowd that sometimes got violent. For several years in the late '90s and early '00s, it was famous compered by Johnny Vegas. It was then compered, throughout the early- and mid-00s, by Daniel Kitson. I mean I think there was some crossover, obviously they didn't just have one compere for an entire month and people besides those two guys did it too, some people had to get some sleep at some point. Anyway, these are all things that I know as a direct result of the rabbit hole I went down after finding this video and needing to understand what the ever loving fuck was going on in it. I actually know a lot more than that about Late 'n' Live, but there isn't time for it all right now. I've watched a four-part BBC Scotland documentary series about the history of Late 'n' Live. I watched a Tim Minchin documentary mainly because I like Tim Minchin but a little bit because it had a lot of the Gilded Balloon in it and that was relevant to my Late 'n' Live research. I have an entire folder on my hard drive called Late 'n' Live and it has too many files in it.

One of them's a gif of David O'Doherty throwing his entire body with abandon onto different things at Late 'n' Live in different years: onto Jason Byrne in 2003, onto the floor in 2005, and onto Daniel Kitson in 2007. All clips I found in entirely different sources and decided they needed to be together.

Anyway. I'm getting off topic. Already. Cowgate. The point is Cowgate. I named the incident Cowgate because that's the name of the neighbourhood where the original Gilded Balloon was, and, you know, it was a cow. A cow and what looked like it had to be some sort of scandal. I think it's very clever.

So here's the thing. After I first found that video, which seemed like a tiny relic of one of many moments of one of many nights on one of many years that this stuff went on, and I set about obsessively looking things up for weeks to try to figure out what they were doing, in the process I came across a second video that also happened to capture the same moment. Amazing stuff.

The former video was on the Gilded Balloon's YouTube channel, and seemed to have been filmed officially by the venue staff. This latter one was a montage of videos taken throughout the night by an audience member who apparently had whatever people used to film things at gigs in 2003. Wouldn't have been a camera phone back then.

This video shed a bit of light on some of the essential mysteries of Cowgate, but didn't actually answer many, and to be honest it asked more questions than it answered. Obviously, one of the main questions I had about Cowgate was "Where did the cow come from?" I'd wondered whether the Chocolate Milk Gang had somehow procured it, or whether they took something that was already there. Both options would open up a lot more questions, such as where did they get it, and if it wasn't there because they specifically put it there for the purposes of taking it apart, how did they get permission to take it apart?

The longer video suggests that it's the latter. It shows Daniel Kitson earlier in the night, messing around with the cow the way he might if its presence on stage were a surprise to him as well as to the audience.

The other essential question is "Why did they attack it?", and this earlier scene may suggest a possible reason. From the dialogue, it seems that Kitson jumped on top of it because the crowd told him to, and then the crowd keeps shouting other cow-based challenges at him, and he makes fun of them for suggesting challenges that are too easy (jump off it, touch it, etc.). The video then cuts, but it is possible that he challenged the crowd to ask him to do something difficult with it, and they said to tear it apart, and then it escalated. That scene seems to be from the beginning of the night, and we know the actual Cowgate ritual was the last thing that happened in the night, because right after they finish Kitson brings the band out and that occurs after the comedy ends. So it's possible that they could have come up with the challenge at the beginning, spent a few hours sourcing various weapons, and then done this at the end.

That theory of course brings up other questions, like how they decided on the weaponry. And, again, why they were allowed to do that. The answer to that question depends on where the cow came from, which I still don't know. I once spent a week looking up the International Cow Parade because I thought maybe it was part of that, but I don't think so anymore. It has the word Metro on the side of it, and someone in the YouTube comments called it the Metro cow. So it was probably an advertisement, not an art piece. But I wouldn't have thought your allowed to take apart a company's advertising installation. Maybe it was going to be destroyed after the festival anyway? Also, why was there a cow-based Metro advertisement on the floor at a comedy gig anyway?

I'd like to go through the video in further detail, as I've done many times before, but not for six months so I think I'm allowed a new one, and also I've come up with one (1) new fact (theory) so that's worth doing the whole thing again. I've just spent two days sick in bed, please allow me to indulge in this.

- Right at the beginning, the "three chances" thing still confuses me. That line really suggests that this is a challenge, not just a weird stunt, that they are being tested to see if they can do it. Possibly tested by an audience that was told to come up with a more difficult idea for something the comedians could try with a cow.

But what are the paramatres of the challenge? To take the cow apart, sure, but the "three chances" line implies more specific restrictions. Did they try this two other times earlier in the night and weren't able to do it? Perhaps tried it earlier with fewer weapons? Or did "three chances" mean three people are allowed to work on it? Doesn't seem likely, as Kitson jumped in fairly quickly and made it four.

- Adam Hills sounds like he's referencing something with "literally bottle it". I know "bottle it" is a expression that means "fuck it up", but I don't see how that's literal in this case. Was there a bottle involved? What would bottling it mean in this instance? Failing the audience's challenge? I don't even know for sure that it was an audience challenge, that's just a guess based on the beginning. It could be something else entirely.

- The part where John Oliver, Demetri Martin, and David O'Doherty scurry across the stage like squirrels makes me laugh every time. Why are they all bent over? What are they hiding from?

- David O'Doherty appears to be the only person who came out carrying a weapon. In the first shot of the guys attacking the cow, DO'D is hitting it with a hammer that he presumably brought from backstage. The other two are pulling on it with their bare hands. Then, in a detail I find hilarious, Demetri Marin reaches behind him and grabs what appears to be a chisel off the floor. I guess what probably happened is he did bring that with him from backstage, then put it down, and we just see him pick it back up. But the editing makes it look like he's tried pulling the horns, it didn't work, so he turned around and grabbed the nearest tool, like a character in a video game that just finds useful weapons lying around.

- It also makes me laugh that Adam Hills used his rap-based narration to make sexual jokes about the cow, while Kitson puts his hand over his mouth/in the air like a rapper, to show he's totally on board with this gangsta rap thing, but also, they have shit to and it's (presumably) nearly 4 AM, so the actual content of his lyrics is going to be to give useful practical advice on how to get this job done. Because they're not combining the tools, and you really need to use the chisel and hammer together or it'll never work.

I enjoy the way at this point, John Oliver takes just the briefest break from attacking a facsimile cow with his bare hands to look up Kitson, looking quite impressed with his approach to the situation. "Yes, thank you Daniel, finally some helpful ideas instead of just cowfucking jokes, now let's get that chisel over here."

- It can be hard to see in the darkness, but this whole thing is basically a Kitson and Oliver-oriented plan. Kitson shouts at DO'D to "combine the chisel and the hammer". John Oliver then points like he's directing a play, getting DO'D to bring his hammer to the other side.

DO'D does this, but puts the hammer down on the ground over there, instead of combining it with anything. That's when Kitson taps DO'D on the back like a pretend wrestler tagging in, possibly deciding that if he stays on the sidelines rapping all night, they'll never get this done and be allowed to leave. So he pushes DO'D out of the way, and takes his spot next to John Oliver. Then he reaches down and grabs a random chisel off the ground, again like a video game character. Then he reaches over the cow and picks up the hammer that DO'D has discarded (like a video game character), so he is now combining the chisel and the hammer. At the same time, John Oliver has physically taken the first chisel out of Demitri Martin's hand, and starts working on the same end as Kitson. Now they're getting somewhere.

- This is one of those videos that's funny every time if you keep running it back to watch the same eight seconds over but this time focus on a different person. DO'D tries to get in after Kitson straight-up stole his spot, leans in but can't find an opening, gives up and walks all the way around them both to try the other end of the cow because clearly the Kitson and Oliver dream team have this end sewn up.

- Then, there's a curveball: someone with the word CREW on the back of their shirt comes out of absolutely nowhere, and hands John Oliver a lead pipe, like a character fucking Clue(do, depending where you live). Where did this come from? Do most stages have large bits of piping lying around backstage? Was John Oliver supposed to bring it on stage with him but forgot it so they had to run it out to him? Or did those crew people decide that they're not making enough progress, someone had better find a large pipe and bring it on stage and hand it to John Oliver so we can all go home.

I've been writing this post so far while watching the official video - the one off the Gilded Balloon YouTube channel - but I think you get a much better view of this specific part from the way it was captured in the montage by an audience member. It's another part that I find incredibly funny. John Oliver is methodically working away with Demitri Martin's chisel and his own hands. Then someone hands him a large weapon, and he immediately raises it above his head like a sword and starts whacking the thing full tilt. Scares the shit out of Kitson on one side of him and DO'D on the other. They both jump, Demitri Martin just cautiously circles away.

In the words of a John Oliver bit that is long outdated but lives on in our hearts and my DVD collection... whaky stick. Whacky stick!!!

Kitson, after initially jumping, responds by choosing to imitate John's style, and starts raising the hammer over his own head to attack it with full force in the same way. While DO'D literally cowers in the corner:

And Demitri Martin continues to do what he's been doing since John took his tool away, which is to run his hands over the body of a cow like a mechanic sizing up a car. He has contributed almost nothing to this operation. I don't even think Demetri Martin knows how to take cows apart. Too busy turning letters into numbers and stuff.

- After getting over the initial excitement of waving a pipe around wildly, John Oliver employs the more thought-out strategy of using it like a lever, trying to prise it open at the seam. Kitson gets in beside him and starts attacking this same seam, striking the weak spot repeatedly with the hammer. In the background, DO'D and Demetri Martin appear to try jumping on the thing.

This is the strategy they're still employing the moment the cow finally comes apart:

I've observed this from multiple angles, and at first I thought Kitson deserved the most credit for breaking it, but now I think it was mainly John Oliver's work. Definitely a team effort though (or at least a dual effort, not sure how much the other two helped, though to be fair the bigger boys took their tools away). It comes apart at the exact spot where Kitson was hitting it with the hammer, you can see Kitson give it a hard kick, then one more strike, then put his arms up in celebration as this strike breaks it in half. But I'm pretty sure it was John's leverage from behind him that allowed him to split the thing.

- At this point they all contribute to pulling it the rest of the way apart; Kitson and Martin hold the top half while Oliver and DO'D take out the bottom. This is another part I find very funny - the way they're so matter-of-fact about handing it out to the audience. Look at John Oliver and David O'Doherty marching this across the stage like they're workers delivering a coach or something:

- Then the camera shows the cow being crowd surfed. The YouTube comments say: "The Metro cow got smashed in two and crowd surfed over everyone out the back door". In his lyrics, Adam Hills talks about taking it up the Royal Mile. The Royal Mile is the street outside, so all this suggests that they continued to take the cow outside and down the street. Was that part of the challenge? Was the initial plan to take the thing apart and then have it carried through the streets of Edinburgh? How far did this cow go?

- I have so far compared them to video game characters, board game characters, tag-team pretend wrestlers, a mechanic, and delivery workers. But my favourite thing to compare them to is probably at the end, when they celebrate like football players who've just won a big match.

"Great work everyone, good hustle out there, really pulled together as a team. Okay, now hit the showers. I want to see you all dressed and ready for milkshakes in ten minutes flat."

- There is so much going on in this video that I find it easier to not try to focus on it all at once, I have to do one thing and then backtrack. So now that I've gone through the whole video while looking at what the rest of them were doing, I need to backtrack and go over the lyrics to Adam Hills' song.

Question: Did Adam Hills think he was going to have to do this alone, or was he supposed to have Kitson co-MC-ing, but then Kitson jumped in partway through? Because I think the latter may have happened. Kitson was the compere for the whole night, as we see in the montage video.

Adam Hills If you had three chances Would you take them? Or would you quite literally bottle it?

As I said before: don't know what he's talking about there. What got literally bottled? Why three chances?

His palms are sweaty, his hair is sweaty He's ready to shoot spaghetti He's got a cow on stage It's got red horns, it's all the rage

This is veering wildly off topic, but I just want to mention that that Adam Hills got his off the cuff "stage/all the rage" rhyme because he'd heard DO'D use it in a freestyle rap battle with Daniel Kitson, that we know from the montage took place earlier than night (another one of my favourite videos, but we don't have time to go into this one right now):

It's cow tipping, it's not quite shitty Get that cow down in this city Take it up the Royal Mile, attack it with a hammer Kitson's on the stage, he's [?] with a hammer

Again, how far did the cow go? They had clearly planned from the beginning (of this song, at least) to have it out on the Royal Mile. YouTube comments confirm it left the building.

David O'Doherty's going up the ass It's time to fuck this motherfucking class Fuck the udder (x4) Let's get this udder fucking cow out of here

After all the times I've watched this video, this is the first time I've noticed that Adam Hills tried a pun on "mother fucking" there. Glad he's having a good time.

Daniel Kitson Davey, Davey, what you need to do Is combine the chisel and the hammer

Finally, some useful fucking advice.

Adam Hills There's Martin, Demitri Martin The Perrier win has left me smartin'

This was August 26, Hills' song mentions later that it's the last night of Late 'n' Live for that year, so the Perrier Awards had just been given out. In 2003, Demetri Martin won the main award over other nominees: Reginald D. Hunter, Flight of the Conchords, Howard Read and Little Howard, and Adam Hills. Adam Hills, who had also been nominated the previous year, when he lost to Daniel Kitson, and the year before that, when he lost to Garth Marenghi. So he is actually being, as a YouTube comment said, a pretty good sport to jump in and have fun about it. If I were him I'd probably resent losing out an award again and then not even getting to smash shit up.

John Oliver, he's the man If that pipe won't do it, nothing can David O'Doherty, he comes from Ireland, the land of the green Daniel Kitson, he's got a hammer He's also got one motherfucking stammer

I quite enjoy the way no one responds to any of this. Adam Hills starts calling them out by name, including bringing up Kitson's stutter and DO'D nationality and his awards rivalry with Demetri Martin, and none of them even briefly looks at him. They are all very busy and focused on the important task of destroying a cow.

It's time to break this cow down It's time to break this cow down It's not time to chow down It's time to break this cow down

I want this verse embroidered on a throw pillow. Actually, I think I want these entire lyrics printed out and framed on my wall.

Late 'n' Live, Late 'n' Live, it's the very last night It's time to wrap this show up tight Send it out the front, send it out the... [cow breaks apart] Break the cow, break it in half Lead it out the front to the path

Once again, talk of parading this thing around outside the venue. Where were they taking it?

Karen Koren, she's outside She's got petrol dripping down her eyes There was a fire at the Gilded Balloon The police found no one else was to blame If this season doesn't go well This fucking venue's going up in flames

That, of course, is a reference to the Gilded Balloon's history. It burned down in a fire in December 2002. It's now August 2003, and they're in a new venue that was rebuilt nearby. Karen Koren is the venue's owner. I'm pretty sure Adam Hills is implying that she's going to burn down the new venue if the performers don't do well enough. Actually, he's not implying that, he's outright stating it. What he's implying is that she burned down the first venue, presumably for the insurance money, and she is currently outside ready to burn this one down too, if they perform badly enough to make the insurance money worth more than the shows bring in.

The cow's in half, the cow's in half Let's hear it for the cow in half!

This is like that famous poem that was allegedly written by a child about a tiger breaking out of its cage. Sheer poetry.

Tea's gone cold, I'm wondering why I Got out of bed at all The morning sun goes up my window And I can't see at all And even if I could, it'd all be grey But your picture on my wall It reminds me that it's not so bad, it's not so bad

What's interesting about this is that these are the lyrics to Stan, which is a different Eminem song from the one he was (sort of) singing at the beginning, which was lose yourself. This may or may not be related to the fact that Adam Hills is the only person in this performance who was not a member of the Chocolate Milk Gang, which was a group of comedians known for not getting drunk during or after late-night Edinburgh shows.

It may also be related to the fact that this is a clip of the Edinburgh show that Adam Hills had just spent a month performing:

So he had Stan in his head all month anyway, he was on stage and remembered he was supposed to be singing an Eminem song, his brain told him that the Eminem song he sings on stage is Stan. Fair enough.

Though it's worth noting that those aren't the correct lyrics to Stan either. The Eninem song says the clouds come up the window, not the sun. Why would it be all grey and hard to see if the sun came up the window?

Crowd surf the cow, people.

I want all those lyrics printed out in fancy calligraphy font. And ornately framed. And on my wall.

So that's Cowgate, in case anyone wants to know. But this is just stuff I've said before. I said I had a new detail, didn't I? Well here it is:

Who is that man, sat unobtrusively in the background, playing the percussion set? Of course we have no way of knowing, in such low quality video without any clear shots of his face. Or do we? Because here is a screenshot of Flight of the Conchords, sitting on that very cow, earlier in the same night! (We know it was the same night because it was taken from the montage of the whole night, which ended with a second angle on Cowgate.)

Am I wrong? I might be wrong, tell me if you think I'm wrong. But I think that's Jermaine Clement playing percussion back there. Based on the evidence that: He was there that night. He does play the drums. He's a bona fide member of the Chocolate Milk Gang. And he has the same vague outline and shirt colour as the guy in those screenshots. And he was in the background of the Kitson/DO'D battle rap video, playing guitar, so he does sometime play music to accompany other comedians doing weird shit at Late 'n' Live. My new detail is I think Jermaine Clement was on the stage during Cowgate.

It is cool, really. I mean, I'm obviously being vaguely ironic by treating this late-night comedy show stunt as a vitally important mysterious ritual. But I genuinely think that what happened there is fucking cool, if you look at all those people being on one stage doing something so stupid together, and then consider where they all went after that.

And if Jermaine Clement was there, that just adds to it. The variety and international breadth of all the different comedy careers all in one place just as they were on the cusp of taking off. I mean, by plenty of definitions some had taken off already, but they have all taken off significantly more since then. Almost as though on one night in 2003, they all sacrificed a cow to the gods of success and it worked. Of the main five people involved in the sacrifice rituals, there are three Perrier Awards (Kitson, DO'D, Demetri Martin - though to be fair two of those were won before Cowgate happened so I guess we can't attribute it to the sacrifice), an MBE (Hills), and a shitload of Emmys (Oliver). Which I think they should all bring in for the prize task of the Taskmaster episode that I imagine with those five as the contestants (it's okay, I think this is worth setting racial and gender representation on panel shows back by 20 years), the studio task is to take a cow apart, the winner gets all the trophies.

That's a lot of countries. The Australian Adam Hills, the British Daniel Kitson, the American Demetri Martin, the Irish David O'Doherty, the Kiwi Jermaine Clement, and the now-British/American John Oliver. All with wildly different types of careers. All, for different reasons, among my favourite comedians. I have seen or heard all of the official video or audio stand-up releases by all six of those people (and possibly 1 or 2 or several hundred or so unofficial ones as well). And not because of this video or anything, I sought them out because those are among my favourites and then they were all on stage doing this unhinged thing together.

It's the great mystery of my lifetime, I still want to know where the fuck they got that cow. And I'm genuinely annoyed that I won't be able to see the stage where it happened when I go to Edinburgh this year, but it's all right, I'll look at the outside.

If I ever get to meet any of these people, this is the first question I'm asking. No I don't need to know anything else about your career, just please tell me, what the fuck was going on with that fucking cow in 2003?

#Youtube

[silvercap]

Do you have any leon headcannons?

and maybe some krauser ones too?

I've got a few!! In no particular order:

Leon...

- Leon doesn't use a whooole lot of different products for his hair, but he stays loyal to one very specific brand and it's kind of expensive

- Also think he was a 2-in-1 shampoo kind of boy until he started working at the white house 😞 his hair is just nice like that tho. Thick and shiny

- Bite mark scar on his forearm from trying to push away a BOW who decided it looked more like a snack than defense

- Moles all over his body... and I mean everywhere.

- Suffers from a three-hit K.O. of sleep deprivation from working ridiculous hours (some self-imposed), insomnia, and a natural tendency to be a night owl. He's always tired, and if he feels safe somewhere he's constantly taking naps

- He's always thinking about something and has a tendency to get lost in his memories. I like to think he drinks just to stop thinking in endless loops of guilt and regret for a while :(

- Touchstarved as HELL. was joking the other day that he's the 'even held hostage it's nice to be held' meme lmaoo. Give him a hug, somebody??

- Listens to the most dad-rock-light-emo-90s-early-00s-linkin park-nirvana-alanis-morissette-foo-fighters-evanescence-nickelback music possible. Also Chevelle and The Police because I say so

- Tendency to be late to things on purpose, especially with the government

- Lingering nerve pain for a long time after Spain, and though it's mostly subsided after so many years it still flares up if he's pushing himself too hard

- Achy. So achy.

- Incredibly self-sacrificing. He would die to protect almost anyone and he cares very deeply about people even though he puts up a tough front :') not so much a headcanon as true, but it's important

- I feel like sometimes people can't tell if he's joking or not? Obviously he's got his silly one-liners and sarcasm, but I feel like he also likes deadpan humour and it throws off people who don't know him, maybe intentionally if he doesn't really trust them.

As for Krauser...

- He's such an asshole. Never knows when to shut the hell up and stop making sarcastic, biting little comments. I think he's just in love with the sound of his own voice at this point

- Strikes me as a middle child 🤔 maybe grew up with an older brother and a younger sister? Kind of a jock in high school, but also always a little bit antisocial

- Stubborn.

- Very practical. I don't think he really has much use for abstract or hypothetical discussion, he's a man of action. I think he enjoys following orders and being part of a scheme, too, helping to be part of a well-oiled machine

- Relentless drill sergeant, and again, a dickhead, but he really does care about his men

- He has this... assumption that everyone else is just as insane as he is, and doesn't see why people get caught up on small things. If there's something he wants to do, he's going to do it. He knows his strength and always has this intense desire to make himself better and better by constantly tackling challenges.

- He doesn't fail... until he does, and everything falls apart. His panic in Darkside Chronicles after he gets injured screams insecurity to me. The second his strength isn't enough, he feels weak and powerless and incredibly let down by his own inability to push through

- Arm injury in Operation Javier was super debilitating, maybe even to the point where he was advised to amputate it. Again, though, he's a stubborn SOB

- Very touchy. The kind of guy to always pat your shoulder or your back or knee. Just casually moves people out of the way, or readjusts their fighting stance while training without hesitation. If you're cuddling with him it's impossible to get away from his big heavy arms.

I think that's everything?? I'm always coming up with more ahaha but these are definitely the fundamentals :) Thanks for the ask!!

#headcanons #my fics #resident evil #asks #metaltango

[fereldanwench]

Questions for Writers

I was tagged by @corpocyborg! Thank you, bb!! ♡

Last book I read: I still haven't finished There's No Such Thing as an Easy Job Kikuko Tsumura I started back in January, lmao. Not for any reason other than I just haven't been in the right headspace to sit down and read for the past few months--What I have read of it is great, so hopefully, I can make the time to pick it up again.

Greatest literary inspirations: I like the female protags in Karin Slaughter novels, and I love Tanya Huff's Torin Kerr from her Confederation series--I'm sure they've inspired me on some level. Oh, and Phedre from Jacqueline Carey's Kushiel books, too, although it's been ages since I read those. But I think most of my inspiration actually comes from other forms of media. I love the action babes of the late 90s/early 00s: Lara Croft is the number one inspo here, and pretty much all of Michael Turner's comic girls but especially Sara from Witchblade. And I think Better Call Saul is easily one of the best-written shows ever made--That's one I always go back to when I feel like I need to refill the inspo well.

Things in my current fandoms I want to read but I don't want to write: I have a confession: I usually only read a ton of fic when I first get into a fandom and I can't get enough and I just want to soak it all up, but after a certain point, I just don't have a lot of headspace for other people's stories. 😬 I feel bad about it sometimes, and it's not like I never read anything after that point, but 90% of the time, what I wanna write is what I wanna read. It's kind of a closed loop, I guess.

Things in my current fandoms I want to write but I think nobody would be interested in them but me: Well, I'm not at all deterred by being the only person interested in something I write, haha. One of my favorite one-shots I've ever written is between my Cousland and Hawke meeting briefly at Ostagar, and it's probably my least popular fic on AO3 by a big margin. But I do like deep-diving into my own OCs, and it generally is harder to get an audience for fic that doesn't have canon characters. Ain't gonna stop me, though!

You can recognize my writing by: Lots of pining and banter; obvious thesaurus abuse

My most controversial take (current fandom): Yeah, no, not gonna be sharing my actual most controversial takes, lmao.

But I do also love the Devil ending! I don't think there's one objectively "best" ending--What's good for one V isn't necessarily good for another--But for my Valerie, it suited her story the best. I love the poetry of her going back to Arasaka after getting fired by them, I love storming Arasaka Tower with Goro, I love the conflict with Johnny, I love making Goro confront how fucked up the Arasakas are, I love the possibilities of Mikoshi--The only way it would have been better for me is if this nixed idea had actually been put into action.

And I wish we could roleplay a V that is actually more "pro"-corpo in the game, especially if we had the corpo lifepath. Sticking it to the man is sexy and all, but I just love delving into characters that align themselves with shitty institutions and exploring different motivations (I personally like cynical pragmatism/self-preservation and delusional idealism) that lead a person there.

Top three favorite tropes: 1) Rivals to friends to lovers 2) Mutual pining 3) Forced proximity

What’s your current writing mood (10 – super motivated and churning out words like crazy, 0 – in a complete rut): Like, 0.5, lmao. I've been rereading and organizing my WIPS, so there's some effort being put in there, but I'm very much in one of my "ummmm, how do I even write fiction?" phases.

Share a random frustration: I have ZERO discipline when it comes to writing. I need to be in a fully feral, totally isolated from distractions place or I just can't get shit done. When I'm in the zone, I'm in the fuckin' zone, but I get like 3 months of that every 5 years, lmao.

Tagging (with no pressure, as always) @ur-friendly-nbhd-cardassian, @dread-red-queen, @vorchagirl, and @aceghosts <333

#t: wench.txt #tumblr: dash games

[lol-jackles]

But why are are actors expecting to work for few years and be able to get residuals or money from that work for lifetime? Normal jobs don't work like that? We work for few years with an organization, get our salary, and when we leave our jobs we get nothing more from that company. I've never understood why actors expect to keep getting something for life? Am I missing something? I'm not from US so I don't know how the normal blue/white collar salary structure works there. I can understand if an actor is paid less for a job and they want to be paid more for that specific time/contract. But to keep on making money from one time job for life? I just don't get it.

You sound like a studio executive back in the 1950s. Back then, actors didn't make anything beyond what they made during production.   The main argument for residuals is studios are re-selling the same product over and over again for years, decades even. If you made one unique lemonade that was so good that your boss keeps selling and re-selling your one lemonade for years and pocketing the profit, wouldn't you feel you should get a cut of the profit too?

Ronald Reagan was the SAG President back in the 1950s and he was able to negotiate residuals for TV actors, but movie studios executives said a hard no. Why? Because television was killing the movie industry. Today studios are complaining that less people are going to movie theaters since Covid.  Same thing was happening in the 1950s, theater attendance fell by 65% thanks to television. 

Studio executives told Reagan, "Why should any employee be paid more than once for the same job?". So Reagan had to up the ante and authorized the actor strike of 1960.  After 5 weeks of high-stake contentious showdown with studio executives, they finally agreed on residual systems for all films produced from 1960 and onward, and retroactive residuals for most but not all films pre-1960, meaning Reagan would not be getting residuals for some of his early films.

Since 1960, about $8 billion in residuals have been paid out to actors and their heirs and supported the middle class for the next 50 years. And, thanks to Reagan and the strike he engineered, working actors are also eligible for both health insurance and a pension. This is one of the reasons why I always had a soft spot for President Reagan (for non-American readers, Reagan went on to become U.S President in the 1980s and was one of the most popular President in history).

"I've never understood why actors expect to keep getting something for life?"

The short answer is actors are paid 60% of their salary during the first few years of the show, banking on they will be paid the rest after 4 years when the show is syndicated, and if they're lucky they'll make 60% more than their previous salary. So if you were only paid 60% of your salary for the first 3 or 4 years of your job, you bet you would want to be paid the rest through residuals that will push your salary over 100%. And if your show is a hit, your pay raise will go though the roof.

Actors outside of the U.S system are usually paid upfront. A few European actors during the '90s and '00s tried to convince their colleagues to convert to the residual systems, but most actors couldn't conceive the idea for waiting for the rest of their salary a few years down the line even if they can reap far larger fiscal benefits.

However you may think of the residual system, for 50 years it supported the middle class in Hollywood. The middle class is what prevents a country from de-evolving into a third world country. Now Hollywood has become a third world country with just the rich and the working class, like a less fun version of Veronica Mar's life in the town of Neptune.

#residuals #sag aftra #SAF AFTRA strike #wga strike

[voskhozhdeniye]

Musical Obsessions 2023

100 gecs: 10,000 gecs*

Aesop Rock: Integrated Tech Solutions

Alice Coltrane, I listen to her more than John now.

ANOHNI and The Johnsons' It Must Change, Rest and Why Am I Alive Now?

bdrmm's Pulling Stitches

Black Belt Eagle Scout: The Land, The Water, The Sky

Bowery Electric, lots of Bowery Electric

Chelsea Wolfe, lots of Chelsea Wolfe

Coil, lots of Coil

The Decemberists' The Rake's Song

Editors' Munich*

Emeralds, lots of Emeralds

Eric Dolphy, lots of Eric Dolphy

Fever Ray: Radical Romantics

Fiddlehead: Death Is Nothing to Us*

Flying Saucer Attack, lots of Flying Saucer Attack

God Body Disconnect: The Weight of Regression

HEALTH: RAT WARS*

The Inevitable Minor Fires: How Do I Miss You At This Remove? Let Me Count The Ways

Interpol's All the Rage Back Home and My Desire*

James Blake's Fall Back and Big Hammer

JPEGMAFIA & Danny Brown: SCARING THE HOES*

Kara Jackson: Why Does The Earth Give Us People To Love?*

Katie Gately's Bracer

Kelela: Raven

Lovesliescrushing, LOTS of Lovesliescrushing

Mandy, Indiana: i've seen a way*

Matana Roberts: Coin Coin Chapter Five: In the garden…*

Meat Beat Manifesto's Acid Again

My Wet Calvin's XS Underwear

The Orb: The Orb's Adventures Beyond the Ultraworld

Pan Sonic, lots of Pan Sonic*

Ross Fish: Stasis*

Slowdive: everything is alive

Sudan Archives' Freakalizer (The Egyptian Lover Remix)

SUNN O))), lots of SUNN O)))

Surfer Blood's Gravity

Sweet Trip: Velocity: Design: Comfort.

Thom Nguyên: The Summer Passed in Monotone

Tim Hecker: No Highs

Tod Dockstader: Aerial #1

TYGAPAW: love has never been a popular movement.

Tzusing: 绿帽 Green Hat

Yellow Swans, LOTS of Yellow Swans

Youth Valley: Lullabies For Adults

Zimpel / Ziołek: Zimpel / Ziołek

Zoon: Bekka Ma'iingan

Bold and italicized indicates a favorite released this year.

Matana's is my favorite. I really, really like the Fever Ray album. I forced myself to listen to less music this year than last year. This time last year I was completely fatigued. I broke a lot of habits this year. I have a notebook I've updated yearly since 2011 that lists my first album picked up each year, which albums I had in the car for each month, and every album I've listened to throughout the year that was released that year. Yes, I can tell you what album I had in my car in December 2012. It was Kate Bush's 50 Words For Snow. I didn't keep track of which albums I put in the car this year. I've had various Yellow Swans records in there since October. I also didn't keep track of which 2023 albums I listened to. Last.fm can tell me, but I'm not worried about it.

I have completely stopped listening to the radio, and use Spotify sparsely. My best friends are my external hard drives. I keep identical backups. I don't have THAT much music.

Last year was my jazz year. The goal was to expand beyond the artists I was familiar with. This year was my '90s and early '00s electronic music year. I think I dug a lot more vigorously last year. In fact I said, "Next year I want to start digging through all of the electronic albums the synth bros swear are the most important albums ever made." Some of them I liked, and some of them..... There was a point around June, where I actively recognized my digging around this year wasn't returning as much joy as last year. Autechre, Biosphere, Muslimgauze, and Pan Sonic are the finds whose discographies I've started devouring.

I truly listen to everything, because everything has the potential to be inspiring in someway. The flip side to that is that sometimes I subject myself to stuff I don't like. One of the MTV channels still mainly plays music videos, so sometimes I'll mindlessly watch the latest and greatest music videos to see what's "cool." Most of it is trash. That's how I heard all of these lazy samples people are getting away with.

@knightofleo Andy Stott, sometimes it takes me years to get to recommendations. Yes, you were right. I am taking notes.

I've decided next year I'm going to start with Japanese noise bands and see where they lead me. @the-inevitable-minor-fires and @anarchist-caravan I'm starting with Boris. I've heard very little from them. I'll probably start with Akuma no Uta. I really like Naki Kyoku. Any recommendations from them and other bands to check out? @zombimanos I'm not sure if you go here too, but if so, your input is also welcomed. I am a blank canvas on the subject. It doesn't have to be strictly Japanese noise bands, that's just an area I know has deep veins to mine.

As for my music, I'm drifting between noise and dance. I want my dance tracks to have less structure. If I could describe the sound I'm looking for it's Heart of Aeonia dub. Look up Slowdive's Moussaka Chaos if you haven't heard it. That drunken sound, but more rotted. There's an early Yellow Swans track the eventually evolves into something that sounds like a '90s Busta Ryhmes track. Shackleton also comes to mind. I want to sound murkier, waterlogged. Doom Ambient Techno. This has become a year long project now. I'll make tracks and they feel too far to one side or the other. I planned to do field recordings this year, but never did any away from the house. I might next year.

100 gecs: A now deleted user once said they have no business going so hard. I listen to this a lot at work. Also, hearing a trans woman tell people to suck her dick multiple times puts a smile on my face for some reason.

Editors: I've known this song for years. I have no clue why I suddenly became obsessed with it.

Fiddlehead: I really love the back half of that album.

Interpol: I don't talk about Interpol on here much. Certain Interpol songs make me lose my mind. I intentionally do not listen to them very much.

HEALTH: As a music fan, I like new HEALTH. But goddamn I miss Get Color HEALTH. As a music maker, I listen to new HEALTH and take notes.

JPEGMAFIA & Danny Brown: I hate them. I also wish they mixed their vocals cleaner. I got auditory issues.

Kara Jackson: I am typing this on December 23rd. In December, I relisten to albums released throughout the year in preparation for this list. I listened to Kara's album and Hannah Jadagu's album back to back last week. I've spoken about this many times before, but as a preteen, I wanted to become an artist because I felt like the emotional palette Black people were allowed to express was extremely constricted. As a child I felt that way, 20 plus years later, and now I know you have to scratch beyond the mainstream surface. It's something I still think about a lot, and not just with music. I was much more interested in film when I was younger. Earlier this year, I heard Joe Budden complain about going to a fashion show and all they played was EDM. (I hate that term) He said, there are niggas here, play some Black music. I know that's just who Joe is, but how does he know it wasn't? What does Black music sound like? Kara's Black, is her music not Black? I'm Black, is my music not Black? Are y'all aware there are people who stopped listening to Kanye after Yeezus because it was too White? Like shout out to you for dropping Kanye before the implosion, but what the fuck? I know where these invisible limits on what Black art and even Black people should look like come from, but that doesn't make it any less frustrating to be constantly feeling pressed up against it. As for the album, I love how it starts out simple and slowly adds more complex layers and arrangements. And then you have the title track, which is breathtaking every time. Put down the controller during Elden Ring down every time breathtaking.

Mandy, Indiana: I wish this album went harder. Every time I listen to it there are moments where I'm like MORE! If I can't get Get Color 2 from HEALTH, these guys are a good candidate for it.

Matana Roberts: I feel like Matana deserves a completely separate post for an essay exclusively about her. I'm so glad she's doing this. Her and Aesop occupy a very strange space for me. I actually get nervous when they announce new music. I always have such high hopes. They always deliver, but there's always that thought of how have they evolved since their last release? Yes, I'm aware of how pretentious this sounds. I don't care. I've had many favorite artists evolve to places it's hard to follow, 1980's Miles Davis for example. Hearing her evolution has been a joy, Aesop's too. I listen to Coin Coin Three the most. That's a taking notes album, but I think this is probably her best one. This one feels more intimate to me than the others. Whenever I listen to the album I think about the very ugly fight for abortion and bodily autonomy that's happening here right now, and the gender gap that men know exists, but like racism, must be confronted if acknowledged. So society ignores it, even though it shapes everything about our lives. Throughout the album she repeats the line, "We remember, they forget." The rapes, the abortions, the morning sickness, the second class status, and so on. The women remember what was done to their bodies. The men casually forget.

Pan Sonic: My favorite find going through '90s electronic. I am retooling the modulars to incorporate ideas I've gotten from listening to them. 2024 is violence.

Ross Fish: He created those two noise synths I grabbed this year. I posted the music video for Drugs and Sex on here over the summer. This is a whole fucking mood. His Youtube channel is one of those he's just like me frfr moments. I'm worried about his mental health.

Last year's list

[yellowocaballero]

hello! i really liked your fics, especially the dc-xmen ones, and they made me interested in reading the comics. do you have any recs for starters? thank you :D

So a long-running gag between my sibling and I is that they aren't allowed to send me any panels or information about the X-Men, because I don't like the X-Men comics. Have I legitimately read a bunch? Sure. Would I recommend any of them? No.

I'd say X-Force (starring private eye Jamie) wasn't bad, except the 10yo girl got aged up into an 18yo and started making out with the lead. Cable & Deadpool probably barely counts as X-Men but it's definitely the best Cable and the best Deadpool comic simultaneously. My X-Men fics are based almost entirely off the children's cartoon X-Men Evolution, which is the only X-Men media I can say with my whole chest that I really enjoy. I heard that X-Men Blue was good.

As for where to start with DC comics...I'm struggling with a personal opinion on that too. I can't give a single comic that's the best Batman comic to start with, because the popularity of the Batman arc has an inverse relationship to its quality. The best Batman comic is some random one-off by Denny O'Neil in the 70s that was never mentioned again. I'm not sure how often this rec is given but Batman: Black and White is one of the few one-off Batman things that is sincerely gorgeous and moving (unlike The Dark Knight Returns or Arkham Asylum A Serious House on Serious Earth or The Killing Joke or Batman: Year One or The Long Halloween or Under The Red Hood or). If you've rolled up here for the Batfam exclusively then Cassandra's 90s Batgirl run is unironically pretty good.

If you enjoy reading teenagers being awful the late 90s-early 00s Young Justice comic by Peter David is delightful - if you enjoyed Impulse in it, then check out my favorite comic run of all time Impulse (not best, just favorite). The 90s Mark Waid Flash run was lovely. Outside of the heroes I've actually written, if you're pretentious as fuck the the 80s Denny O'Neil Question is fantastic. If you're not pretentious and want something much lighter then the early 00s Blue Bettle and 70s Shazam comics are unbelievably fun.

That probably doesn't help much! I love Batman so much but I couldn't believe that I couldn't actually list of any famous Batman arcs or stories that I genuinely love. Life of a Batman fan. I'm so sorry I can't actually recommend an X-Men comic. I'm sure there are good ones I just haven't read any.

#granted most of the modern x-men ive read has been joss whedon so #and he's a fine enough comics writer he just rarely goes in any particularly interesting directions #disclaimer that i haven't read any modern batman comics in a VERY long time so if the list is looking a bit antique thats why #weirdly enough im much more of a DC girl #but I can recommend more of Marvel. huh. #my asks #also im not joking about cable&deadpool it was really definitive for the actual deadpool we know of today #he was a very different character before that. also it did a miracle and made cable sufferable #legit dont read any dp comics other than that one theyre trying too hard #the 90s run is fascinating but mostly because he locks blind al in a torture chamber whenever she annoys him #not even in a funny way. its fucked up he kind of sucks.