#it's just EVERYWHERE and I don't NEED it to be everywhere

[thatdisasterauthor]

Thoughts on the Grand Canyon Lodge?

Firstly, all thoughts are my own and not tied to my employer etc. etc. etc.

With that out of the way, I understand the sadness and the frustration and the disappointment that such a lovely place (and so many other buildings) burned down. But I have long said that when it comes to disaster losses, we need to be more accepting of the impermanence of things. Nothing lasts forever, and it's okay to mourn things when they're gone, but that's life. You can't let it consume you. The lodge burning down doesn't mean you can't remember all your favorite times there, or that there won't be a way in the future for people to make new memories in the same place. It's not the first time the lodge has burned down, after all!

Now, as for the anger and blame that's being hurled around about the response to this fire: everyone needs to cut it the fuck out. A building is not worth the lives of the people out on those firelines. They did what they could against a fast moving, massive wildfire that was started by natural causes, but in the end nature won out. There is only so much you can do in those circumstances, especially with historic wooden structures.

This is not the end of tourism on the North Rim, it's just a change. Something new will come, and what that is will be an important conversation between the NPS, the local communities, and other interested parties. For everyone who loved the Lodge and other things that were lost to this fire, I urge you to (in a few weeks, when things have calmed down a little) reach out to your local NPS office and volunteer groups and elsewhere to see what you can do to help. There's going to be a lot to do, and as we all know departments like NPS are really hurting right now due to all the governmental chaos.

Now, on a more personal note, here's what I would like to see happen going forward:

Rebuild the Lodge with the latest fire safety standards in mind while maintaining the original look and feel as much as possible, and explain it. Put up permanent placards around the new lodge explaining why different materials were chosen, why design changes were made, etc..

Where possible and safe, leave some evidence of the fire's effect on the original building. Maybe don't put a new roof on one of the semi-outdoor areas, and leave the burned beams, IDK. Put placards there too.

Involve the local community in the recovery process. You know those stands where you slot your phone in and then take a picture and email it in to a scientific study to monitor the growth of plants or something? Put those up everywhere and use the submitted photos to post about the rebuilding and regrowth process and show timelapses and all that. And do other things, like working with local companies and really highlighting their contributions.

Have a memorial wall somewhere in the new lodge where people can leave pictures and write down their memories of the old lodge. Embrace the grief.

Give a way for tourists to learn about and participate in the recovery process as well. Maybe community replanting areas they can visit, or have ranger led hikes where everyone gets a seed shaker of local seeds.

Signage signage signage. Put signs explaining the fire ecology of the area, what happened with this fire, how things regrow after fire, all of that.

Make sure to have tons of fire safety information everywhere. Not just how to avoid human caused fires, but how to stay safe if you are out exploring the area and a fire starts.

Sell fire safety related items in the shops.

Sooooo, yeah! Those are my thoughts.

[merrinla]

In the Venatori camp there was an option to stand in line with the the others. Then the Venatori would start paying attention to our ragtag gang and someone would pester one of the companions, depending on who was in the party. Except for Lucanis (he managed on his own), Neve came to everyone's rescue.

Companions: Guards. We'll need to get past them. Somehow. How do we get past those guards? We must get past those guards. Uh-oh. Guards. What's the plan for the guards? How do we get past the guards without killing 'em?

Rook: Leave it to me.

Companions: We're waiting in line? Really? Are we actually waiting in line? We're joining the queue? You're making us wait in line? They're going to spot us in the queue.

Rook: Barging through will just make us look suspicious.

Venatori talk: For the glory of Tevinter reborn. Move along. Hey! I was here first! One at a time. There's no need to push.

Companions: Rook? People are staring. Really staring. Rook, people are starting to stare at us. People are taking notice of us, Rook. People are looking at us, Rook. Rook. People are staring. I can smell it.

Rook: It's fine. Just act normal.

Venatori: Is that an elf? Here? Neve: My servant. Is there a problem? Bellara: Mistress takes me everywhere! She's so kind! Neve: Bellara. Bellara: Sorry, Mistress! Venatori: No, of course not. I apologize.

Venatori: Is that an elf? Here? Venatori: That's a Qunari! Here! Neve: My bodyguard. Would you like a demonstration?

Davrin: Would your ladyship like me to defend your honor? Venatori: No, that's quite all right.

Taash: (Growls.) Venatori: Uh, no, never mind.

Venatori: Hm. Are those Mourn Watch rings? Emmrich: Ah! Yes, they were given to me by— Neve: He murdered their previous owner for insulting his magic. Emmrich: Oh, yes, of course. That. It was very rude of him. Venatori: I think there's blood on your robes. Neve: Is there? Well, my servants shall hear of this.

Venatori: Is that a dwarf? Here? Neve: She's just short. Harding: Right. Just a short Venatori. For the risen gods! Neve: For the glory of Tevinter reborn.

Venatori: Don't I know you from somewhere? Lucanis: Nigel Serpentus Gordian, of the Asariel Gordians. Perhaps we've met? Venatori: No, I... I must've been mistaken. Neve: "Nigel"? Lucanis: What? I would make a great Nigel.

[athenalvss]

NEW ROMANTICS — ( Bruce wayne! )

summary: The press is chasing the alleged new couple everywhere, here are some headlines

pairing: Bruce wayne x wife!fem reader

open request - hot wife masterlist

"ONE NIGHT OR THE BEGINNING OF SOMETHING MORE? BRUCE WAYNE AND A BEAUTIFUL WOMAN LEAVE A LUXURIOUS HOTEL TOGETHER"

Article by Sydney Philips, entertainment section

Gotham City never sleeps, and last night neither did the city's most coveted heart.

It was past midnight when photographers stationed outside the Gotham Royale, the city's most exclusive and secretive hotel, managed to capture what until now had only been rumors: billionaire heir Bruce Wayne leaving the building accompanied by a woman whose name has not yet been officially confirmed, but whose presence set off all the media alarms.

Sources close to high society claim to have seen the same woman in private meetings weeks ago, sharing moments with Lucius Fox and Alfred Pennyworth, members of the heir's closest circle, further fueling the speculation.

For now, neither Bruce nor his mysterious companion have made any statements.

──────

The elevator stopped on the top floor, and the silence between them was comfortable, one of those silences that only exists when two people don't need to fill the space with words.

Bruce shifted his gaze to you as the door opened, and found himself observing more than he intended. The way your hair fell casually over your shoulders, the calm glint in your eyes, the elegant confidence with which you walked. You didn't act like someone who was impressed to be with him. And that, precisely that, he liked more than he wanted to admit.

You felt his gaze on you, you didn't want him to look away, you liked feeling his gaze pass over you, you liked knowing you had something that had an effect on him, but he didn't hold it. He just smiled a little, as if he knew exactly what was going through your mind, because he loved to bother you. There was something about him... a mix of strength and exhaustion, a vulnerability that barely filtered through the lines of his clenched jaw and the shadows under his eyes. You were used to reading people, and with him, there was a lot to read.

The dinner had been delicious, yes, but it had faded into the background the moment they started talking. You talked about books, music, and the absurdity of modern art.

When he laughed, a real laugh, one of those that barely escapes and surprises even the one who lets it out, she knew that it wasn't a date like the ones he usually had and he knew that perhaps life was giving him a chance to be happy with a woman like you, a woman capable of anything, confident, intelligent and independent.

You walked slowly toward the main exit of the Gotham Royale. Outside, the flashbulbs awaited them. The whirring of lenses, hurried footsteps, and whispers disguised as professionalism.

Bruce masterfully ignored them; he was born in that spotlight. But this time he didn't seem to be acting. He didn't care about the noise. He just looked at you, with a disarming calm.

"Do you want to take the side exit?" he asked, in a neutral tone, as if it meant nothing.

"No," you said without hesitation. "I have nothing to hide." then you glanced at him. "You?"

He held your gaze. "Not with you."

Bruce took your hand before leading you both to the exit. He looked at you one last time to check you were okay. You walked through the grand doors of the luxurious hotel. You walked through the entrance that seemed endless, as you felt the lights hitting your face and the shouts of the journalists. Once you reached the car, Bruce opened the door for you. A simple gesture, without grandiloquence, but when your fingers barely touched, there was an imperceptible pause for both of you. A second longer than necessary. A gentle current between skins accustomed to distance.

"Thank you for tonight," you said, not looking directly at him, but yoir voice low and firm.

"Thank you for staying," he replied, just as gently, as if the words were a secret.

When the car started, and the city lights began to dance across their faces, neither of them said anything else. There was no need to.

Maybe it wasn't love yet, but it was the beginning of something, and they both knew it.

“PICNIC AT WAYNE MANOR: THE MOST HUMAN SIDE OF THE BILLIONAIRE”

Article by Carmen Rogers, entertainment section

This isn't the first time Bruce Wayne has surprised Gotham City. However, this time he didn't do it with a spectacular appearance or a multi million dollar donation, but with something much simpler and, unusually, the prince of Gotham has been seen again with the same woman he was photographed leaving Gotham Royale, but this time in a simpler setting: a picnic in the gardens of his own mansion.

The Wayne Enterprises heir was spotted this weekend accompanied by the enigmatic young lady, who has captured more than one headline in recent weeks, in a scene that left even those who think they've seen it all speechless, but they're wrong.

Far from the flashes and black-tie finery, Bruce and the young lady shared an afternoon outdoors at Wayne Manor. According to sources close to the couple, they were seen barefoot on the grass, laughing, cutting fruit, and sharing a picnic basket in true classic style, but with a Wayne touch: fine linen blankets and a bottle of white wine that probably costs more than an apartment in downtown Gotham.

Although neither of them has offered official statements about their relationship, these scenes speak for themselves, the couple would be more than confirmed, and she is the envy of many for having achieved what few have achieved: Getting the Wayne heir to focus on his life, and leave behind his stage of his nightlife.

Is this a sign that their relationship is more serious than either of them lets on? Or is it simply a break from the chaos?

──────

It was one of those rare days in Gotham when the sky wasn't tinged with gray. The sun had risen unhurriedly, and the wind was barely a caress. Perfect for what Bruce had planned.

"I never imagined you doing this," you commented as he sat you down on the blanket, settling in naturally. You ran a hand over the perfectly cut grass, as if you wanted to make sure it was real.

Bruce, sitting in front of you, opened the basket with the same precision with which he fastens the seatbelt of the Batmobile. .

"I didn't imagine doing it either," he replied without looking up. His tone was neutral, but not distant.

he brought out a small container of strawberries, then bread, cheese, and two crystal glasses. There was no exaggeration, nothing unnecessary. Everything was in its place, thoughtful, precise, everything had a reason for being there.

"Alfred?" you asked with a smile, raising an eyebrow as you took a drink.

"That's right," Bruce confirmed, finally looking up at you. "But it was my idea."

You bit your lip, barely. "So what made you think this was a good idea?"

He took the bottle of wine and began pouring it for you. "I didn't think about it too much," he said honestly. "I just wanted to do something with you... I haven't had much free time lately."

You raised your glass, touching it to his. "Cheers to that, for more time together"

"For you," he corrected, without drama. He just said it.

Your eyes searched his for a few seconds in silence. With Bruce, affection wasn't abundant; he didn't feel the need to be so explicit, but he expressed it in different ways. He'd been thinking about you, about the way you could spend time alone together, about how he'd asked Alfred to prepare your favorite fruits, about how he'd chosen that corner of the garden, away from the windows, away from the world.

You placed your glass on the blanket, took off your sandals, and let the grass touch your feet. You took a strawberry and slowly approached him, holding it in front of his lips. "Try it."

He didn't hesitate for a second, taking it straight from your hand with a faint smile. Then, his fingers brushed yours. It was barely a second longer than necessary, but enough to make your stomach clench.

"This isn't anything like our first dates" you commented, moving closer to him until you were shoulder to shoulder.

"I know," he replied, without moving. "And I'm glad for that."

You leaned your head on his shoulder and said nothing. And after a few seconds, he turned slightly to brush his lips against your forehead in an almost imperceptible, but absolutely clear gesture.

There, in the middle of Wayne Manor's perfectly manicured garden, surrounded by silence and sunshine, they were allowed something rare: a moment without masks, without heavy names, a bit of peace, peace that only you and he could enjoy.

"GALA IN GOTHAM: BRUCE WAYNE AND HIS PARTNER DAZZLE WITH THEIR ELEGANT ARRIVAL"

Article by John Ward, entertainment section

Bruce Wayne was once again the center of attention last night, but this time it wasn't for a financial gambit, a stock market appearance, or a tabloid scandal. It was for his impeccable appearance at the Gotham Museum of Art's Spring Benefit Gala, accompanied by his no longer so mysterious partner, who stole just as much attention as he did.

The couple arrived just after 9:00 p.m. in one of Wayne's classic cars, a black Aston Martin with impeccable lines, straight out of an old movie. But it wasn't the vehicle that took everyone's breath away: it was the sight of the two walking together down the pearl-gray carpet that lined the museum's main entrance.

The event concluded with a silent auction and an intimate musical performance, but for many, the real spectacle was the arrival of Gotham's most enigmatic couple. And if anything was clear last night, it's that Bruce Wayne, the eternal bachelor, may have finally let his guard down...

──────

The Aston Martin's engine hummed gently as the car pulled up to the steps of the Gotham Museum of Art. Outside, a line of photographers was already waiting, like a storm with flashbulbs instead of lightning.

“Last chance to escape,” you murmured, adjusting the clasp on your bracelet.

Bruce turned his face slightly toward you, not a big smile, but with that slight curve to his lips that was his private version of humor. "I've escaped too many times. This time I have no intention of doing so."

From the outside, everything seemed calculated: the elegant arrival, the classic car, the impeccable suits. But inside the car, there were only two people taking a breath before crossing the line.

He leaned toward you and, with almost rehearsed calm, whispered, "You look perfect. But if you want, we can go home right now."

You looked at him with a soft smile. "I'm glad you like it, but I spent too much time getting ready just for us to leave so quickly."

Bruce let out a small laugh, a privilege reserved for very few.

When the driver opened the door, he got out first, nodded, and then extended his hand. The contact was firm and confident.

The flashes began instantly. The reporters' shouts, the questions you weren't willing to answer, the barely concealed whispers. Bruce and you walked across the pearl-gray carpet without rushing, without hiding, without looking to the sides.

He paused briefly at the top of the steps and looked back at you, as if he wanted to make sure you were still there. As if he couldn't help but do so.

"Everyone's watching," you whispered.

"Let them look" he replied, without taking his eyes off you. Then, very calmly, he turned to you, cupped your face in both hands, and without another word, kissed you. He was firm, confident, determined. He let all the flashes fade at once.

During the gala, he stayed close. He stroked your back at just the right moments. He poured your drink before his own. He didn't make a big show of being attentive: he simply was. Like someone who no longer needed to feign indifference.

And when the night ended and you returned to the car, there were no more cameras. Only the city and the distant murmur of traffic.

"It wasn't so bad, was it?" you asked, leaning lightly on his shoulder as the car moved forward.

Bruce shifted a little to pull you closer, dropping one of his rough hands onto your leg. "No, because you were with me."

“SHORT BREAK: BRUCE WAYNE AND HIS GIRLFRIEND TAKE A QUICK COUPLE'S GETAWAY”

Article by Jimmy Morrison, entertainment section

Sometimes, even the most powerful need a break. And if there's one thing Bruce Wayne has made clear in recent months, it's that his personal life has finally begun to take center stage. This week, the CEO of Wayne Enterprises was spotted with his partner on a brief getaway out of town. .

Although details have been kept under wraps, as is customary with all matters surrounding the Wayne heir, several reliable sources claim the couple was spotted at a luxurious coastal estate just hours from Gotham, known for its exclusive access, complete privacy, and privileged views of the sea.

According to witnesses, the couple arrived by private helicopter and remained out of the public eye for at least two days. With no social appearances, no photographers around, and no unnecessary staff, the getaway was reportedly a time to disconnect from the constant pace of the city and reconnect with each other.

During their stay, they avoided all public contact. The few people who spoke to them describe them as "quiet, attentive to each other, almost invisible." Apparently, their routine was reduced to sunrise walks, al fresco dinners, and long hours of reading by the sea. Some workers who chose to remain anonymous say they spent a lot of time locked in their rooms. Apparently, we're dealing with very passionate lovers.

The couple returned to Gotham two days later, without any announcement, just as they had left: together, discreetly, in silence.

──────

The sea breeze drifted through the open windows, caressing the crisp white curtains that danced slowly to the rhythm of the sea. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting golden lines on the wrinkled sheets, the entwined bodies, and the remnants of an uninterrupted night.

You were lying face down, partially wrapped in the sheet, your bare back exposed to the soft morning light. Bruce, lying beside you, had one hand resting on the curve of your waist, barely moving, as if he simply needed constant contact with you.

"You're not reading anything," you whispered, feeling his gaze on you even though you couldn't see it.

"I can't concentrate" he replied sincerely. His voice was deeper than usual, slow, as if he hadn't fully woken up yet... or as if he didn't want to leave the atmosphere they'd been trapped in since they arrived.

You slowly turned onto your back, the sheet slipping down to your hips. You looked at him without speaking. His gaze remained fixed on you, intense, more gentle than serious, but definitely charged.

Bruce leaned forward on one elbow, leaning closer, and with his other hand, he leisurely traced an invisible line from your collarbone to your chest line. He stopped right where the sheet began, not going any further yet.

"You shouldn't look at me like that," you murmured, like a warning you didn't expect me to obey.

"Then stop tempting me," he said, and his lips found yours without further ado.

The kiss was slow but firm. His body settled over yours with familiarity, without urgency, but with suppressed hunger. Your fingers tangled in his hair as his hand slid down your side, slowly pushing the sheet out of the way.

Their lips moved down to your neck, your shoulders. Each touch spoke a language the headlines would never understand. It wasn't a fling. It wasn't a coincidence. It was a connection built on every shared silence, every moment stolen from chaos.

"If we keep this up, we'll never get out of this room," you murmured against his mouth, already breathless.

"And that would be a problem?" he whispered, kissing you again.

"We're not going to be here for long," you replied, taking your time, barely touching his lips as you spoke. "So... take advantage of it while you can."

And before he could respond, it was you who kissed him. Deeper, more devoted. Your hands slid down his bare back, drawing him in with purpose, with that exact mix of tenderness and desire that only you could manage without Bruce falling apart.

He smiled faintly against your mouth, his laugh low, vibrating between your ribs. “Come on… just a little longer and then we can go out,” he murmured, his hand slipping back in, this time not pausing when it reached the sheet.

"You better, I already told you we're going out," you said, against his ear, as you felt him settle on top of you once more. "You have one hour, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce raised an eyebrow, amused, as his lips brushed yours again. "Then I'm going to make the most of it... very well."

An hour, an hour for Bruce Wayne was more than enough to convince you to stay the whole day, but he was under your power, he was just a man in love, and completely devoted to you.

[peachpopfizz]

Idol!Solo-Demon-Hunter!Reader × The Saja Boys

Part 2, A Totally, Definitely, 100%, Completely Normal Group Of Guys

First | Previous

yk, I think the main reason I struggle with writing consistent fics sm is bc I'm a person who has chronic "if this chapter isn't perfect and exactly up to my standards then I can't post it" syndrome, BUT!!! I'm trying to get past that and post this despite the fact that I don't think it's my best work :,)

I might've said this before but again. I'm making up 80% of this story on the fly. I have some plot points ik I want but how am I gonna get there?? fuck, we gon' find out, we ball

anyways, enjoy part 2! you get to meet all the other boys this time!!! or. well. uh. 3 watch and 1 houndogs you like he smelled a good steak lmao. poor jinu needs to invest to put them all on childleashes

WC: ~2.2K

You stared in horror-filled shock as the camera panned over Rumi, who confidently stood center stage. Her golden outfit hugged her body beautifully, and her markings... they seemed to glimmer under the stage lights, bright neon rainbow. With every step she took, they pulsated with an otherworldly energy, as if they had a life of their own. The first chorus ended, the sound of the crowd singing so thunderous it shook the ground.

Unbeknownst to the screaming fans and cameras flashing everywhere, the newly created Honmoon glimmered a bright white light, its connection stronger than ever as thousands of empowered voices rang out. The three girls beamed and looked at each other knowingly while they danced, nothing but love, joy, and acceptance in their eyes.

While the trio was having a party on the stage, you were... Well, you were having a mental breakdown in your greenroom. 

Your hands fisted your hair, still stuck on your knees while hyperventilating, eyes wide and pupils dilated with fear. No... no, no, NO- this was wrong, this was all wrong- Rumi? The lead singer of the number one K-Pop girl group in Korea was a DEMON? A soul-sucking DEMON from HELL?!

You felt sick, physically nauseous. Your head was spinning, breathing felt hard. God, never-mind what you said earlier about it being saved, today once more sucked.

As you struggled to process this world-changing revelation, the door to your greenroom suddenly creaked open. You didn't notice at first, too lost in your panic and shock. But when a soft footstep sounded behind you, you snapped out of it just enough to whip your head around, almost snarling at whoever the intruder was. Running off adrenaline and autopilot, you jumped up, shifting into a fighting stance and ready to summon your scythe. Thankfully, a really funny squawking noise of surprise shook you from your fear. 

The person in front of you wasn't a threat- it was just… Jinu. A rather alarmed and ready-to-bolt looking Jinu. You dropped your stance in an instant, looking at him sorrowfully. Dear god, you can NOT make a good impression with this guy... 

"Oh- Oh my god, Jinu? I'm so, so sorry, you scared the shit out of me-”

Jinu still looked alarmed, but he quickly recovered, holding up his hands in a peaceful gesture, a small smile on his face. He took in your panicked expression and disheveled appearance, concern etched into the crease of his brow.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," He spoke softly, taking a step back to give you some space. "No need to freak out- sorry for not knocking."

Only after you caught your breath did Jinu slowly step closer again, concern growing as he further took in your disheveled state and the thick sheen of sweat on your skin.

“...Are you alright? You look... unwell.”

You loudly sigh into your hands, nodding exhaustedly, face red from humiliation. 

"Yeah, I'm good, I... haha, man, this is embarrassing, I just... kinda panicked while thinking over Grxm Rexper's performance and accidentally spiraled, you know?"

The lie came easily- what were you supposed to say? The truth??? 'Hey Jinu from Saja Boys, yeah, Rumi from Huntrix is actually a demon from hell and I gotta kill her now, because that's what I do on the side, kill demons! Teehee!' Yeah, sure...

Jinu nodded kindly, stepping into the room all the way and gently closing the door behind him. Any other day, you'd have been praising the lord that you and JINU SAJA somehow ended up alone in a room together. But not today. Today could not be saved, not even by the power of hot ass men.

“I… understand that feeling. It's a hard one to shake, but I promise, you were all amazing out there! Especially you. I don't want to downplay anyone's efforts, but… your solo turned it from a good performance into a memorable one.”

Your mind was a soupy mess of exhaustion and terror, but you simply kept smiling, nodding as Jinu spoke and pulling out two chairs for you to both sit. Your left foot was numb.

"That means a lot, Jinu. Thank you very much.”

"Of course."

"..."

"..."

Even the few seconds of silence after that felt suffocating. Clutching the hem of your shirt between your fingertips, you began anxiously babbling, teeth grit.

"SO, uh, Jinu..! Whyyy... did you come here..? To my... greenroom..?”

Jinu smiled at your incredibly smooth ice-breaker. How endearing.

"I just wanted to continue our conversation. I saw you disappear from backstage while we were performing, so I assumed you had gone to your room. I… was going to knock, but it sounded like someone was fighting off an army in here." He raised an eyebrow teasingly, watching your face intently. “Looks like you were, too.”

You grabbed a pillow from behind your back and loosely threw it at him, face scrunched up in a blush. Jinu just laughed, effortlessly catching the thing and placing it in his lap before continuing,

"You seemed really into us out there. I'm honored. I hope you had fun dancing along.”

Your blush crept down to your neck, momentarily wishing the ground would swallow you whole.

"Oh god, you saw all that? I should publicly apologize to Saja fans everywhere, who knows who else saw me shaking my shoulders like a damn robot.”

Jinu lightly shook his head, his annoyingly perfect hair swaying along with the movement. Seriously- he just performed on stage in 80° heat in front of thousands of people, he does NOT deserve to still look so damn EDIBLE.

"No, seriously, there's no need to think like that, it was very nice! You seemed… genuinely happy."

He leaned his head against his palm, looking at you softly. Everything about this guy was… casual. Soothing. Familiar. Slowly, your tense shoulders started to slump, heart rate calming down and panic dwindling. Man, he was calming to be around, wasn't he?

You found your eyes closing, replaying the recent memory like it was as near and dear as one from childhood.

"...Yeah. I was."

Jinu looked at you with that infuriatingly sweet smile again, nodding as if he could see your tension melt.

"That's good." 

His eyes lingered on your peaceful expression for a moment longer than necessary before he stood up, patting non-existent dust off his pants.

"Would you like to come with me? It would do you good to get out of here, I think. …I could introduce you to the others, if you want? You seem to be a fan."

That goddamn smirk was back. He knew exactly what he was doing. The inner fangirl that lived at the core of your heart squealed, eyes widening in an instant. Your eyes snapped to Jinu's face, hands gripping the arms of your chair like they owed you money. 

"You- You're serious? For real?”

Jinu only chuckled, smirk growing wider as he extended a hand towards you, palm up in an inviting gesture.

“Of course! Unless you have other plans..?”

You… hesitated.

Of course you wanted to go. Who WOULDN'T want to? But... 

Golden had been quietly playing in the background the whole time from your T.V, Huntrix now performing the final chorus. You felt… trapped. Do you take the hand of the angelic looking man in front of you, or stay back to try and potentially face the demon lingering in the room..? 

 ...Oh, fuck it, you've had a bad week, you deserve a little treat. The popstar princess of Korea being a demon in disguise is something FUTURE you will have to deal with.

"Nope! Let's go, I need to get all my stuff signed."

You took Jinu's hand, feeling your fingertips tingle from where they met. Jinu's smirk blossomed into a real smile as he gently pulled you up from the chair. In that brief moment of touch, your hand fit perfectly in his. 

Jinu led you from your greenroom down some winding corridors. Your sudden shift in attitude was kinda funny, but he couldn't help himself from smiling at your candor. 

"All your stuff, huh? High expectations.."

After a few more turns, Jinu had successfully led you to the Saja Boys' greenroom, where the rest of the members were gathered. They were laughing and joking around with each other, clearly in high spirits after their performance.

Romance noticed you first, doing a double take when he noticed you alongside Jinu. If a man could somehow physically have cartoon-hearts pop out of his head, he’d have caused a flurry. Romance dropped his phone right on the couch and began confidently strutting forward, hips swaying in an over-exaggerated manner while he side-stepped Jinu to greet you. 

"Oh my, Jinu, who's this absolute angel you've brought back to bless my eyes with..?”

You didn't even manage to get a word in before Romance bowed like a prince, the man gently lifting your arm and pressing a kiss so feather-light to your knuckles, it made you want to scream without the s. Oh wow. Oh lordie. Your face was already so, so red. If this is how the rest of this interaction is going to go, you might implode on the spot. 

"Oh my god. Okay. Ah. Ahem. Hi, Romance. P-Pleasure to meet you, too..?”

At your voice, Romance straightened up, his eyes never leaving yours.

“I assure you, the pleasure is all mine, darling." He then turned to Jinu with a raised eyebrow, sounding coy. "Jinu, you sneaky little minx, when did you find time to sneak this absolute feast for the eyes back here?”

Okay, that one was a lot. You resisted the urge to snort as Jinu looked at Romance like this is the 100th time he's had to deal with him today. His voice was annoyed- but that playful kind of annoyed.

"I did not 'sneak them back here'- this is a fellow idol and a member of Grxm Rexper called- …hm.”

An awkward flush ran down Jinu's neck. He looked at you like a fish out of water. 

"...Actually, I haven't even gotten your name yet. Sorry."

In the midst of all this, Abby had abandoned whatever he was doing on his phone to instead watch this exchange with amusement. Baby was still buried in his, not having glanced up since you first entered the room, and Mystery was curled up on the corner of the couch. You couldn't tell, but he was very much staring at you. You just smiled softly, happily telling Jinu your name, snickering at his embarrassment.

"Nice to officially introduce myself to Mr. Saja himself."

‘Oh my god. Why did I say that. That was so bad. That makes me sound like I see him as an old man, oh my GOD. Kill me, kill me nowww.’

Jinu's cheeks turned a faint shade of pink, smiling awkwardly.

"...Please, just call me Jinu. 'Mr. Saja' makes me feel like I'm a hundred years old." 

Back over on the couch, Baby murmured something under his breath that made Abby snort. Jinu glared at them for half a second before he returned his attention to you, opening his mouth to speak-

-But then Romance interrupted him, hip-checking him out of the way and seemingly pulling a rose from thin air, tucking it behind your ear. 

"Apologies for my earlier misdemeanor, my dear. You have such a beautiful name, fitting for such a beautiful soul. But perhaps I could have the honor of calling you 'mine'..?”

WOW. He was GOING FOR IT. Yes, your face got even hotter, of course it did, but…

Listen. You know Romance. Or, you know the role of Romance. You do for ALL the Saja Boys. Of course he's the flirt of the group, the visual, but…

You squinted your eyes at him. Not unkindly, not enraptured, but knowingly.

Softly pulling the rose out, you lean upwards to gently cup Romance's jaw and turn his head, tucking it behind his ear instead with one swift motion. The man was stunned silent.

“You… don't have to keep up the act around me. I'm an idol too- so I get it, I swear. Plus, I'm already a fan- actually, DOUBLE PLUS, we're backstage and can act like normal people, so... You can just chill, okay?”

You pat Romance on the arm placatingly, hoping he'd take your words as sincere instead of rude. He… still wasn't saying anything. Instead, he was looking at you differently now. His eyes were wider, softer. Maybe even astonished? ...And, was he… blushing..?

Before you could speak up and further clarify your intentions (not harmful ones! You swear!), Jinu stepped back in to grab the back of Romance's collar, scruffing him much like a mother-cat would do to her misbehaving kitten. The leader beamed at you while he dragged the man to the opposite corner of the room, smile not meeting his eyes.

“Hahahahhh, one moment please- YOU THREE. Say hi to them and please just be NORMAL.”

Jinu shouted to the other three Saja members behind you, all of whom responded in their own way. Slowly turning your head around, you saw Abby gesturing for you to come closer. Mystery subtly angled himself to look at the spot on the couch beside him, and then looked at you. And Baby even moved his leg to stop manspreading, silently inviting you to sit, too. Wow. What a team effort!

Hearing the faint sounds of a simpering Romance being chewed out in your ears, safe to say, you were rather lost. Man, these guys weren't giving you any time to BREATHE, huh? What an... eccentric bunch. And there's nothing wrong with that, obviously, it was just, unexpected..?

But regardless, you took the invitation with glee, walking over to the couch with a pep in your step. Surely Abby, Mystery, and Baby will be more… normal! Right?

…

Uh, right..?

~~~

pov romance interuppting jinu: so... a lot of people ask me, 'whats it like to be so sexy'- *falls flat on his face and dies*

^ anyone who understands that joke gets a cookie. anyways, taglist (woaw tysm! there's even more of you now!!!)

@moonjellyfishie, @satansdaughter123, @d3sperate-enuf, @empressgetou, @littlemissfix-itfic, @milkcatfern, @10101071010, @rorotvt2025, @gremlinartstudio, @trap4void, @ninacatk, @snowy-violet, @kitkatpattywack2808, @scara-simp69, @yaminions

[shikiii-skadi]

What is Wrong with being a little Bad? || Heartslabyul

SUMMARY: After a potion incident caused by your three disaster-prone friends, you're now stuck with an accidental villain arc.

WARNINGS: evil!reader

NAVIGATION: Twisted Wonderland Masterlist

PARTS: Prologue | Heartslabyul | Savanaclaw | Octavinelle | Scarabia | Pomefiore | Ignihyde | Diasomnia

After you had left your minions with Crowley, you were now on your way to the cafeteria. Of course, you already had the perfect idea for taking over Sage Island, but first, you needed something to eat. After all, no wicked mastermind was able to scheme with an empty stomach.

Perhaps you should also use this opportunity to look and listen for better henchmen. Ace, Deuce, and Grim were clearly insufficient.

Your path was suddenly cut off as Cater and Trey came around the corner.

"Yahoo, are you also heading to the cafeteria?" Cater asked in a cheerful voice.

You nodded briefly in response before Trey looked behind you. "Oh, are you out by yourself?" he asked, “Where are Ace and Deuce?”

"Right. You three are usually always together," Cater commented.

You couldn't help but furrow your brows. You didn't like the fact that apparently it was your reputation that you went everywhere with Ace and Deuce. As if you couldn't function on your own. It was bad for your evil image to be seen with those idiots all the time. You really should find better henchmen very quickly.

You straightened your posture, letting your gaze sweep over the two Heartslabyul students. "I don’t require an entourage to walk down the hallway," you replied coolly, voice laced with a new, imperious edge. "Unlike certain people, I can function perfectly well on my own."

Cater blinked, thrown off by your frosty tone. "Ooh, someone’s feeling extra spicy today! Did you had a fight with Ace and Deuce or something?"

You shoot Cater a sharp look. "Do I look like someone who'd be wasting their time arguing with these idiots? Their incompetence is tiring."

"So it's that bad, huh..." Trey muttered, clearly convinced that you three had a fight, " The Cafeteria must be packed to the brim with hungry students by now. Why don't you come with us to the Heartslabyul Dorm? There are a few tarts I'm not sure which type is the best for the next un-birthday party."

You were thinking about the options you now have. While the cafeteria will have more potential underlings, it will also be harder to find good ones. The Heartslabyul students, on the other hand, love following rules. The chance of finding worthy underlings is much higher there. Although Ace and Deuce, who are also in that dorm, were disappointments, you were willing to try again.

"Very well," you said. "Lead the way. I suppose I can spare a moment to help with your little dilemma."

As you followed Trey and Cater to the Heartylabyul Dorm, you took a closer look at the two of them. Would they be worthy subordinates? But one closer look is enough to make you discard the idea. Trey was a goody two-shoes, and Cater gave you the impression that he's one of those people who can only follow a 30-second Magicam video if there's a random car driving video at the bottom.

As you entered the kitchen, the smell of Trey's freshly baked tarts immediately caught your attention. It didn't take long for Trey to present his baking to you.

You eye the tarts, but your mind is elsewhere. As Trey busies himself with the oven and Cater snaps a quick Magicam photo, you scan the room for potential recruits. But no one besides you three was here at the moment.

Time passed, and you just sat there and, well... ate tarts. This is not how you had imagined the beginning of your villainous reign. But regardless of how you felt about Trey, you couldn't deny that he was an excellent baker. Once you seize control, you should definitely make him your personal baker.

You were halfway done with your current piece of tart when sharp steps could be heard approaching the door of the kitchen. It was opened by no one other than Riddle. His posture was as always incredibly straight, that just seeing it made your back hurt. "Is there a reason for this gathering in the dorm's kitchen?" Riddle asked.

"Riddle, good timing," Trey said, "We were just sampling a few tarts for the next unbirthday party. I thought it might be a good idea to get some outside opinion."

Trey gave Riddle a look before the latter nodded understandingly. "Very well. It is important to ensure only the best is served."

Cater chimed in, "You should totally join us, Riddle! Who better to judge Heartslabyul’s signature treat?"

"Shouldn't we fetch a stepladder then? Otherwise, Riddle won't be able to reach the countertop," you said meanspirited, "The countertop must look like a mountain from your point of view, Riddle."

At your words, Cater failed to suppress a snort. He tried to hide his reaction behind his phone. While Trey's eyes widen in shock. Riddle on the other end clenched his jaw. His lips formed a thin line, and his face flushed red. "I will let you know that men can still grow well within their twenties."

"I am sure that's what you are telling yourself every night," you continued.

"Height is hardly a measure of one’s worth," Riddle said, voice tight but striving for dignity. "Nor does it determine a person’s capability or… suitability."

You arched a brow, a smirk tugging at your lips. "If you say so, Riddle. Though I imagine you’d be more convincing if you weren’t standing on your tiptoes."

You saw how Riddle straightened his back further, as if he might grow a few inches through sheer power of will.

Trey cleared his throat, intervening. "Let’s not get sidetracked," Trey looks at you, "Which tart did you like best?” He slid a plate closer, hoping to distract you from further comments.

You glanced at the tarts, but your attention lingered on Riddle, savoring the discomfort. "I suppose one can never go wrong with strawberry."

"Well, I think all of them are Magicam-worthy, but the prefect's opinion is the one that matters, right, Riddle?" Cater said.

Riddle looks at you before he quickly looks away. "If they approve, then that’s the one we’ll serve."

The kitchen went silent, except for the clinking of forks as you ate. It was Cater who broke the silence first. "This totally calls for a selfie! #tarttesting."

As soon as Cater raised his phone, you gave him a sharp look. "Over my dead body. If you snap a picture, I will break your phone."

Cater yelped, his hand immediately freezing in midair. "Whoa, okay, no selfie. Rule understood," he said, lowering the phone.

As Trey tried to lighten the mood again, you didn't listen to his words. They were probably unimportant. Just like Trey himself. Instead, your eyes narrowed on Riddle, while it was certainly entertaining to make fun of him (just looking at him made you think of countless short people puns) a far more important thought crossed your mind. Maybe Riddle would make for a good underling. He had anger issues., loved rules and would never steal your spotlight. Also, his signature spell was certainly worth discussing.

You interrupted whatever Trey was talking about. "Riddle, your signature spell is really impressive," you said cheerfully, as if you hadn't shattered his self-confidence a few seconds ago.

Your unexpected and sudden praise knocked Riddle a little off balance. For a second, confusion flickered across his features. Then, ever so slightly, he straightened, chest expanding as if his pride had been poured back in with a single, well-chosen compliment. "Well, yes. It is a mark of discipline and mastery. Most students are unable to achieve a spell of that caliber. It is only befitting that I, as the dorm leader of Heartslabyul, have mastered it."

"Certainly," you replied. You rest your chin on your hand as you look at Riddle, "But don't you think it would be more efficient if it actually decapitates its targets, instead of just collaring them?"

Riddle’s eyes widened at your nonchalant suggestion. "That would be barbaric!" he stammered. "The collar is a symbol of order, not… gruesome execution!"

With a smile on your face, you scoot closer to Riddle. "But wouldn't an actual warning be more effective than just a little symbolic gesture?" you leaned in closer, "Imagine all the people who love breaking rules would think twice about ever doing it again. Your signature spell would be so much more impressive."

Riddle may have prided himself on composure, but in this moment, his rigid posture faltered just slightly as you leaned in. Your voice was low and silkily persuasive. Riddle could barely process your words. You were so close that he could feel your breath on his cheek.

For one charged moment, you wondered if he'd actually start entertaining the idea; after all, with enough persuasion, even the proudest rule-maker could become a tool for chaos.

"It’s out of the question!" Riddle managed to say, "The Queen’s rules don’t condone violence for its own sake!"

"Oh, really? Didn't the Queen of Hearts literally decapitate people, though?" you said. "It would be so poetic."

"Perhaps there is some truth to your words..." Riddle muttered eventually.

Cater, who was busy scrolling through his magicam feed, now realized the seriousness of the conversation happening across from him. He edged closer to Trey, whispering to him. "Did the prefect really just suggest that? And does it look only to me like Riddle is considering the idea?"

Trey cleared his throat and slid another tart in front of you, trying to prevent the possibility of the events from the beginning of the year happening again. "How about we focus on constructive feedback for the party? No beheading required," he suggested with a forced smile.

"I think a public execution is required for any good party," you replied, but you were never able to elaborate on the importance of public execution, as the door of the kitchen was forcefully pushed open, revealing your left behind underlings, Deuce, Ace, and Grim. They were completely out of breath. When they saw you in the magicam post Cater uploaded, they immediately came sprinting here.

"Step back from the prefect. Their evil!" Ace shouted while trying to block the door with his arms, so you won't be able to escape again.

Trey raised his hands in a calm gesture. "Now, now, we know you three had a fight, but that's hardly a way to treat someone."

"Are you serious? They are literally evil. Just look!" Ace insisted.

"There was a potion accident that altered the prefect's personality," Deuce quickly explained, looking sincerely anxious.

Ace shoot a bewildered look at Trey and Cater. "How were you guys not able to tell? They are completely different,"

"Oh, I thought it was an image change. No judgment here for trying out new things," Cater commented.

"That explains a lot, actually," Trey said, tone thoughtful as he considered your earlier morbid suggestions.

Riddle, meanwhile, had gone oddly quiet. There was a small, self-satisfied smile playing at the corner of his lips after hearing Ace and Deuces' explanation. He looked almost pleased, relieved in fact, as the realization dawned that perhaps your earlier string of short jokes was not a reflection of your actual feelings, but instead merely the result of your new evil alignment.

Deuce stepped forward. "The potion did something! Prefect, you have to fight it! You can’t just be… well, evil." He looked almost hurt, as if the real crime was your snark, not your nefarious plans.

"Stop being dramatic. I never felt better," you said dismissively, "Why are you even here? I understand that you three are completely lost without my guidance, but I think I have made it clear that I don't require your service any longer. Get lost."

"We’re not going anywhere! You’re not yourself," Deuce said, stepping into your path, blocking any potential escape. "You’re our friend. Even if you don’t remember it right now."

"Yeah!" Grim agreed. He raised his little paws with a determined expression, "And if anything, the Great Grim is the boss of this group. Without me, you three would be completely lost."

"You are the one who is getting us into trouble all the time. Just look what your potion caused." Ace interjected, "And clearly I am the boss."

As Ace and Grim were arguing over who was the boss, and Deuce tried to dissolve their bickering so they could all focus on the task at hand again, you seized the opportunity and slipped away again.

Watching as Ace, Deuce, and Grim try to sprint after you, after noticing your disappearance, something came to Cater's mind: "So I guess the moral of the story is that only someone evil would make jokes about short people."

TAGLIST: @chloemari-e @cupid73 @ddurandals @ceces-works @lucky-whispers @daeda21 @kikiarara @c0ralrubi @runu-chan @charming-mage @kittycat246

[sereia4skz]

hello! for the 2k event I'd like to request an angst/fluff/comfort jeongin x m!reader drabble/oneshot where he's started avoiding reader entirely won't even look at them and none of the others will explain anything either when asked, and it turns out it's because jeongin is scared of how much he likes reader and how badly he wants to be theirs and/or something like he had a nightmare that he seriously wounded them with his illusions and he's terrified it'll happen? with a good dose of comfort cuddling the poor fox and reassuring kisses? (and now he's obsessed with making out with reader lol)

2k Followers Event | don't look at me like that

pairing: jeongin x reader

synopsis: little fox worries he could hurt his caretaker... and he can't risk that

warnings: kitsune!jeongin, angst to fluff, comfort, emotional shutdown/avoidance, lots of cuddles & kisses

event masterlist: #2kShootingStars

━━━━━━━━━━━━⋆｡°✩

AN: i wanna squish him, jeongin on tour is wild.

━━━━━━━━━━━━⋆｡°✩

You’re not sure when you stopped seeing him. He’s still around, technically. You catch flickers of red fur at the edge of your vision, feel the telltale tug of magic when he slips into a shadow or a leaf pile or the space behind a tree. But every time you turn to look, he’s gone.

It’s not the usual mischief. Jeongin has always been tricky, sure. Always vanishing just when you reach for him, tail flicking with smug delight. But he’s never shut you out like this.

Never gone so quiet. And when you ask the others, they dodge.

“He’s figuring stuff out,” Chan says gently.

Changbin just frowns.

Minho, ever blunt, only shrugs. “It’s not for us to explain.”

So you stand outside his den for the third time in a week, unsure if he’s even inside, unsure if he’ll listen.

“Jeongin,” you say softly. “I… I miss you.”

Nothing.

You sigh and lean against the rock. “If you’re mad at me, or scared, or just- if something happened, I want to understand. But I can’t if you won’t let me.”

It’s quiet.

Then, barely audible: “…I’m not mad.”

You freeze.

The den still looks dark, but his voice is right behind, quiet and tight, like he’s pressed against the rock on the other side.

“I’m not mad,” he repeats, like he wants you to believe it this time. “I just. I needed space. It’s… safer that way.”

“Safer?” you echo.

He doesn’t answer. A few heartbeats pass.

“…Sometimes,” he murmurs finally, “I don’t know where my magic ends. Not until it’s already happening. And if I- if something slipped, if I got too close-”

His breath hitches. A rustle of fabric. Maybe he’s curling tighter into himself. Maybe he's pacing. “It was just a dream,” he adds too quickly. “But it felt real. And you were…” The words catch.

You take a slow breath. “You think you’d hurt me?”

“I know I could,” he says, quiet, trembling. “And I can’t,”

The rest fades into silence.

You don’t speak. Just rest your palm flat against the cool rock. “I trust you.”

“…You shouldn’t.”

“I do anyway.”

Another long pause.

Then he looks around, just enough to see his face, pale, drawn, eyes rimmed red. His ears are flat. His tails limp. And he still won’t meet your gaze.

So you step in without asking.

He doesn’t move. Doesn’t resist when you reach up and cradle his cheek. His breath shudders under your touch.

“You’re not dangerous,” you murmur.

His eyes flick to yours, startled. “You don’t know that.”

“I know you. That’s enough.”

Jeongin swallows hard. “…If you look at me like that,” he says hoarsely, “I’m gonna start crying.”

You press your forehead to his. “I’ve been looking for you,” you whisper. “Everywhere.”

His arms wrap around you instantly, pulling you in like he can’t stand the space between you anymore. When you guide him toward the bed, he goes without a word, curling into your chest, tails curling around your legs. You rub slow circles between his ears until the tension in his shoulders eases.

“I hate how much I want this,” he mutters eventually.

You glance down. “Want what?”

His eyes flick up, shy, aching, fierce. “You.”

Oh.

“I thought if I pulled away, it’d fade,” he says. “But it just got worse. And then I missed you so bad I couldn’t breathe.”

You kiss him. Slow. Soft. Sure. He makes a quiet, broken sound against your mouth, like he’s trying not to fall apart all over again. His fingers twist in your shirt. His lips chase yours the moment you pull back.

“You’re mine?” he whispers.

You nod, barely containing a smile. “Yours.”

His voice is smaller, almost bashful. “Can we… do that again?”

“Kiss you?”

“No.” He leans in, already kissing you again. “Make out. For, like, a really long time. Until I stop feeling stupid.”

You laugh against his mouth and pull him closer. “Better get comfortable, then, idiot.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━⋆｡°✩

taglist: @diekleinesuesse @tillaboo @felixsonlyrealwife @geni-627 @skz8riley @lezleeferguson-120 @pixie-felix @headfirstfortoro @alnex05 @baby-stay92 @encoredesires @androgynouscrownorbit @channiesluvrclub @my-neurodivergent-world @chims-dimple @bookswillfindyouaway @stellasays45 @angel-writes-skz-here @m-325 @0sunshinecryptid0 @beal-o @hug4helios @oksullen @rileylovescats @dreamyfelixx @yxna-bliss @turtledove824 @enhacolor @skzz0213 @hannahlue @purplelady85 @velvetmoonlght @inishij @bangchanspineapple @straykids4lifeee @peskybirdysya @gnabsss @zayn-210 @wolfhallows4 @katsukis1wife @sammhisphere @sunfk88 @sillyseob @rougegenshin @yaorzu-blog @babigriin @tricky-ritz

[xoln04f1xo]

Perhaps Max meets a random fan and it's love at first sight for him and then he goes everywhere looking for her because he just can't get her out of his mind. As a smau, i think it could be really interesting with him using socials to try to find her but regular writing would be really good to because I genuinely love your writing. Love ya!

PAIRINGS: Max Verstappen x Reader

WARNINGS: none

WC: 0.6k

A/N: Thank you so much for requesting! I haven't written a max fic in about 2 months so I hope you enjoy it.

Max didn't believe in fate. He believed in data, tire compounds, pit strategies, and in-turn points. Love at first sight? Cut in movies. Ridiculous in real life.

Until it wasn't.

It had been a blur, really - a short walk from the paddock to his hotel room for a promo weekend in London. He had stopped outside a coffee shop to take a call when it happened.

"Sorry..!" a voice said, colliding with his arm as a cold splash hit his shirt. It immediately bloomed with iced coffee, and he looked up, startled.

The girl in front of him had frozen mid-apology. "Oh no. Your shirt. I didn't... God I'm so sorry."

Max blinked. It wasn't the coffee he noticed. It was her - navy hoodie, deep blue nail polish, bright eyes like she already knew how ridiculous this was.

She looked at him like he wasn't Max Verstappen, world champion, but just some guy who got in the way of her coffee. That was new.

"You're taller than I thought," she said suddenly, her voice shy and amused all at once.

Then she smiled, apologized again, and disappeared into the crowd

She was gone before he could ask her name.

That night, Max lay in bed staring at the ceiling like some idiot in a romcom.

"Just a girl," he muttered to himself. "It was just a girl."

But it wasn't.

@ Max33Vertappen: Does anyone know the girl who spilled ice coffee on me outside Soho Grind today? navy hoodie, blue nails. I'd like to buy her a drink.. and maybe dinner. 👀

The replies were instant and ruthless.

@ f1clown: bro fell in LOVE mid-latte

@ carlasainz: "navy hoodie, blue nails"?? you sure it wasn't a vision from god??

@ formulafangirl: Max Verstappen starting a softboi arc in 2025 was not on my bingo card but I support it.

His PR team begged him to delete the tweet.

He refused.

"She was real," he insisted during a post-interview debrief. "She was right there, and now she's gone. What if she doesn't even know who I am?"

The next week, Max checked every cafe he passed. Twice.

The baristas started recognising him.

"Back again?" one asked with a smirk.

"Looking for someone," Max said, scanning the tables.

Each time. Nothing.

Until...

It was drizzling in London. Again.

Max ducked into the same cafe, not because he had hope anymore, but because he needed espresso. The bell above the door chimed as he stepped in.

And there she was.

Same hoodie. Different coffee. Sitting by the window, reading something on her phone. She hadn't noticed him.

He froze.

His heart did something stupid in his chest, and for a moment, he forgot how to walk like a normal human being.

The barista behind him nudged his shoulder. "If you don't go and talk to her, I will. Don't waste a meet-cute like this."

Max took a deep breath and walked over.

"Excuse me," he said, voice quiet. "You owe me a new shirt."

Her head snapped up. Eyes wide. She blinked once. Twice.

Then her lips curved into a grin. "Max Verstappen."

"You do know who I am."

She shrugged. "I wasn't gonna make it weird. Seemed like you had enough of people doing that for you."

He smiled - genuinely, crookedly, the way he only did when he was caught off guard.

"I’ve been looking for you," he said.

"I know." She raised an eyebrow. "You put out a tweet."

"I was desperate."

She laughed, and God, it was better the second time.

"Can I buy you a coffee?" he asked, heart racing.

She paused, studying him like she was trying to figure out if he was serious. He was.

"I already have one," she said, lifting her cup.

Max grinned. "Then let me buy you the next one. And maybe dinner?"

A beat.

Then she nodded.

"Alright, Verstappen. One coffee. And maybe dinner."

@ Max33Verstappen: update: found hoodie girl. she said yes. ☺✨

Library

Join The Taglist!

TAGLISTS: @fangirlmusicbiashoe @barcelonaloverf1life @linnygirl09 @imvunia

[kaivenom]

General is fine, anything of your work is fine.

And you're right, the whole Sparda family is hot

Sparda Family dating HCS

Characters: Dante, Vergil, Nero

Warnings: there is a separated NSFW part, feel free to skip it.

A/N: and I am more than happy to start writing for them, I really put myself on this.

Masterlist

Dante Sparda

This men is very passional but also really disorganized.

You need to have a lot of patience for him to open up and have a more or less normal domestic life with him.

He facades everything with humour, which sometimes makes you really frustated.

At some point you have to aproach him about his relationships with Lady and Trish. Of course he reassured you that he doesn't have anything with them, but you have to make him see that his way of treating them sometimes makes you self-concious.

However, Lady and Trish become your best friends and sometimes Dante is the jelaous one, cause you girls have parties and things and he feels like soaked puppy under the rain waiting for you.

He really appreciates that you make him see the things with other perspective and also make him slow down, cause he really needs that sometimes.

Lazy date nights happens everyweek, he orders tons of pizza and you both binge watch a movie or a show on your appartment.

You are trying also to make him taste new take out food like chinese or sushi (it's funny to see him use the chopsticks).

He is a big on physical touch, everytime and everywhere. He always have to hug you and kiss you, and if he can't be on your body he needs to at least have on finger interconected with yours.

NSFW

Drunk sex happens a lot, cause you both go out and drink together.

You both tend to make out everywhere. Especially on missions when he needs a break, he just pulls you both aside and do a quickie or eat you out.

Other to what people may think, he doesn't let you get down on him really often, he prefers to be a giver than a reciever, it's his way to show his love for you.

You both are near the vouyerism line, not because you like it but because you both are really impatient when one of you gets horny.

Lazy sex and specially riding him on his office, just think about that.

Vergil Sparda

Getting this men to look at your direction was difficult, and having casual conversation was impossible, so dating is almost a miracle.

You still don't know how you managed to make him fall for you, but here you are and you are almost certainly sure that he is not going to let you go.

Not in a yandere way (he kinda is but it's not the point) but because he is so rare for him to form bonds that it may not happen again after you, and if he loves he does it hard.

Even if he loves hard, he doesn't know how to date at first, especially like a human.

He courts you like god, making you flustered like hell but then you accept dating him and have to give him a dating 101 class.

Even though he is not very affectionate, he loves making you gifts, sometimes a little flamboyant (a fire heard on the street made your neighbors call the firemen) and then he learned to be more subtle -> a bunch of flowers to your house.

He loves going out for dates, restaurants, cafés, museums, or even just a walk thru the park.

He tends to get jelaous if someone gets to close to you but he just stares on the distance, which tends to be enough to scare people.

He says he doesn't want anyone to know you both are dating cause it would be dangerous for you, but then he has a photo of you on his pocket and he looks at it everytime he is away from you, even on battle.

NSFW

He doesn't care about sex much at first, he doesn't want also to make you think that he is only with you for that.

But once you proclaim that you want him ( you have to tell him directly and look him in the eyes, very formal), he decides that he is ready to use you everytime he is horny, and you are allowed to do the same with him.

He refuses to jerk off from the moment he is with you, he just believes you are going to be around everytime he is needy.

He just gets a phone to talk to you when he is on missions, and that resulted on phone sex, cause he didn't want to get off alone.

He is very private with it, so you both keep things on the bedroom, but he would whisper dirty and very explicit things on your ears on the street just to make you worked up, so when you both get home you will be as needy as him.

Nero Sparda

He is really clumsy and idiot around you, before and while dating.

He just gets that dreamy smile and can't help but look at you, which makes him trip and fall, hit things, etc.

On missions you have to be on another team cause he has been hit by enemies more than once cause he was looking at you or yelling "(Y/N), look at this..." and boom, he was hited against a wall.

He is a really big SIMP, everything you do is perfect at his eyes and he is your number 1 supporter.

He tries to look up for ideas and dating prompts (he is looking at tumblr just to get the better ideas) so he can be the best boyfiend for you.

He is doing the door frame thing and saying hey like a fuck boy, you can't help but laugh at his attempts but you always kiss him for trying.

Sometimes he gets it right and you are blushing like an idiot, wihch gains you a heated make up season.

He tries to make hand crafted gifts for you and he is also a big one on physical touch, like a leech.

Tries a lot to have good comunication with you and really loves that you can understand him and you both can get crazy.

Cause you both overstimulate the other, jumping, running and screaming around while laughing about an inside joke... which usually makes the others annoyed.

NSFW

Like I said, he is like a leech, which sometimes makes you feel his boner, even though he tries to not make you umcorfotable with his hornyness, you sometimes just see it.

And so does everyone else, so he has some moments really awkard with the team, cause he has his hands on his pants trying to hide his boner and looks at you begging for help.

It takes him some time to learn how to eat you out properly but he put so much effort on it that he mastered it.

When you go down on him he becomes a moaning mess, I have no doubt about it.

He is sometimes a little self concious about it cause he grew up on a religious cult and you have to reassure him that you both are not just having sex, you are making love.

When he has the enery for it, you both try new positions.

I firmly believe that Nico built him a vibrator arm, all the pack: multiple speeds and modes. Nero died of embarrasment but deep inside he knew he was going to use it.

[skobeloffico]

Various Gojo smut hc's, (that aren't long enough for their own fic)

Tags: bullet points + in depth explanations, x reader, cum eating, male masturbation, cunnilingus/blowjob, somno ig, HAPPY TRAIL MENTIONED!!, not proof read

Gojo and you were always vocal during sex, even during your high-school jujutsu days. Driving others mad with sleep deprivation as the bed usually creaked and then broke into 2 or more parts, wall always having to be repainted and remade, geto even suggested you used a futon like any normal person but gojo declined saying "it doesent feel that good if the bed ain't facing a new direction."

Gojo who doesent like body hair on himself, he always shaved everything off. But when you started dating, telling him how HOT you found his happy trail he stopped shaving that part of his body – gradually finding it to be a hassle to shave if you don't complain about it.

Gojo finds it so hot when you jerk him off with your rings — even better if you are naked and the only thing on you is your wedding band. Slowly dragging your fingers around his length as he crumbles.

Gojo who always initiates the kiss but as you pull him in deeper he starts to be coy and pulls away leaving you confused. "No, no wait.." satoru hides his face behind a palm as you try to find out what made him stop only for his ears to turn pink "ohh.. you are flustered, aww"

Gojo doesent know why but the sight of you in an apron that's his makes him feral, the idea of you cooking you two a meal with his apron — like a little stay at home partner. "Ah satoru wait I'm cutting carrots!" You say as his hands travel underneath the just-too-long apron, letting then rest against your chest and heartbeat "Let me enjoy My appetizer before my main meal, will you?" While sitting you up on the counter and taking off your pants. Apron staying on.

Gojos sugary drinks disgust you, like yes a nice sweet drink is enjoyable — but a cream soda with 3 types of ice cream, 2 cherries and edible glitter, with chocolate AND caramel syrup? Atrocious, disgusting, despicable. "Come on, try it!" He was now trying to force feed you his new home-made drink creation, with his signature sugary syrup that lacked color "NO GOJO its sp disgusting sweet I can't!" You tried to back away from the spoon while gojo pouted "you can't call food 'disgusting' its bad manners" that's how he made you eat the spoonfull of a drink that glittered in the light, surprisingly it was tangy instead of incredibly sweet. That's when it hit you. This motherfucker just gave you spoon full of his cum mixed with the drink.

Gojo, who before having his blindfold had those bandages — and before the blindfold to tie your hands, there were those bandages to wrap around your wrists to bound you.

Gojo's Playlist is full of random songs, but one is the chosen one he FUCKS to. Literally. When you wanted to fuck for the first time he literally listened to the song all day to get him riled up and then destroyed your insides. Aftercare with him was him holding you close while muttering the lyrics to himself.

Gojo has an overactive imagination, everywhere he looks he sees everytype of position he can bent or fold you in. The wall? Too easy, now he's looking at the shoe cabinet thinking if it could hold the weight of you two.

Gojo who after a long day needs to lay in your lap as you scratch his head, he physically needs it — mentally even! Keeps him sane and even if he's so tired he shuffles his lanky legs to your bedroom and falls onto your lap, nuzzling into your thighs while squishing them between his palms "can we fuck after?.." after that question he's out. Sleeping.

Gojo who sleeps exclusively on his stomach because it's said to boost your chances of having sexual dreams. After you find out you tell him how BAD it is to sleep only on your stomach, now he sleeps on his side facing you, humping you everynight anyway.

Gojo who so happy to agree with you when you ask him if he's OK to being woken up by you being pent up and wanting to fuck, just for his ask to be denied "no I need my sleep!" — that's alright, he loves jerking off to the thought of you as you sleep next to him. None the wiser.

© Scobeloffico : Don't repost my work, don't plagiarize it on different sites (ao3, wattpad)

[veal-exe]

I am genuinely sorry you are not the only one to leave a comment like this but it's the one I'm using to address the sentiment.

I get the sentiment behind “this is why Reddit sucks,” but I really need to push back on it, because framing this as a Reddit problem actively downplays how serious and widespread the issue is. It lets people feel superior for using a different site, as if that magically makes them part of a more ethical or inclusive space. Spoiler: it doesn’t.

First of all, and I say this with no joy, this specific strain of transandrophobia? The kind where trans men and transmascs are told they're derailing, they're attention-seeking, they're "oppression olympics-ing" just for naming the kinds of violence and systemic neglect they face? It's way more common, accepted, and even celebrated here on Tumblr than it is on Reddit. I've seen it. I've lived it. And on Reddit, despite all of its issues, there's at least some expectation in most trans spaces that people try to engage in good faith. Here? That baseline isn’t even present. So no, this isn’t just "Reddit being Reddit." The problem goes deeper.

Second, yes, Reddit has bigots. So does Tumblr. So does the rest of the internet. So does the real world. Reddit is one of the biggest English-speaking platforms on the internet. Of course it has bigots, statistically, that’s a given. It also has non-bigots, people willing to push back, people trying to do better. The issue isn't that Reddit as a platform is somehow uniquely evil; the issue is that transandrophobia is so normalized everywhere that even explicitly trans spaces fall into it without hesitation. And worse, they double down when called out.

And that’s why it's important to bring up r/AnarchyChess. Because that sub (literally a joke subreddit where people shitpost about chess) immediately rallied behind the trans men and transmascs harmed in this incident. That community, which is not even remotely trans-centered, saw what happened and said: “No, this isn’t right.” They spoke out. They saw the hypocrisy. They got mad.

And meanwhile? Actual trans communities, including here on tumblr, are sending me anon hate and replying to this post defending the behavior.

So no, this isn’t a Reddit issue. This isn’t a “Reddit moment.” This is a reflection of a real and present divide in the trans community. It's a mirror being held up to show exactly how accepted it is to shut down trans men for simply trying to speak.

Writing it off as "Reddit just sucks" lets everyone on this site breathe a sigh of relief and say "not my problem" when it very much is your problem.

The call is coming from inside the house.

Transandrophobia isn’t an external threat. It’s something being maintained, enforced, and justified within our community, every day, and the only reason people don’t notice it is because they don't want to see it.

We can't keep letting people dismiss this stuff with a shrug and a "well, Reddit." That’s how we lose what little solidarity we still have. That’s how TRFs grow. That’s how people die quietly while the rest of the community scrolls past and goes “ugh, Reddit.”

So here's what happened on Reddit:

A transmasc posted about how transmascs and trans men are often invisible, how our issues are dismissed, and how resources, especially medical ones, are almost always written with non transmascs in mind. They posted this both to r/Trans and r/lgbt.

A moderator of r/Trans responded by telling them to “stop bitching.” That’s the word they used. That’s the level of respect trans men get. Transandrophobic by the way, don't call trans men bitches.

The comment was deleted, quietly, after backlash. Then the entire post was removed. When asked why, a mod responded that the post was “playing oppression olympics,” and took the time to go through and dismiss each of the original poster’s points, including saying that trans men being sexually assaulted isn’t “unique to transmascs” and therefore not an issue, and claiming that access to testosterone isn’t any more restricted than access to estrogen, which is a straight-up lie, because T is a tightly controlled substance in most places and E is not.

The original poster was banned for three days.

Then a separate mod made a post saying, “nobody asked us our side of the story,” which is wild because people absolutely did, publicly and repeatedly. Users also started reporting that they’d had supportive comments removed or had been banned after disagreeing with the mods, some of those claims are still unconfirmed, but given the general behavior, it wouldn’t be surprising.

Then r/Trans locked down entirely. No new posts. The conversation was forcibly ended.

Some people posted about it on r/FTM, many of those posts were mass-reported, automatically removed by Reddit’s automod, or quietly buried. Meanwhile, r/lgbt also removed the original post, with no explanation.

One of the r/Trans mods eventually posted an “apology,” which was really just a soft-scrubbed PR post full of noncommittal language and distancing. They said they didn’t mean to call a trans man “a bitch,” they just used it synonymously with “complaining,” and they didn’t think about the implications until later even though the first post was about microaggressions just like the mod committed. They did not apologize for anything else, not for wrongfully banning people, not for accusing a transmasc venting like any other user of playing oppression olympics, nothing at all. They said they’re on break and can’t do anything about it. They said, and I quote, “please don’t be mad at the rest of the team.” even though the rest of the team are just as culpable for not stopping their behavior.

They also added that trans men are “a welcome part of the community” and tried to point at moderation history as proof. Because apparently we should be grateful that people occasionally get banned, every so often, for implying trans men aren't oppressed at all, wow, thanks, that is like below the bare minimum, cool.

The current state of things is: r/Trans has over 600,000 members, and trans men and transmascs were silenced, banned, and told to shut up for bringing up their own oppression. And the subreddit is locked down. There’s a mass exodus happening to the new sub, r/trans4every1, but let’s be real, the damage has already been done.

Now let’s talk about what this actually means.

This is not “just more Tumblr discourse.” This isn’t some random blog saying they don’t like transmascs. This isn’t a Twitter reply guy. This isn’t a niche zine or a spicy personal take. This is a massive trans-focused subreddit with over half a million users. It's easily one of the largest public facing trans community online, maybe even the largest, I've certainly never found a bigger one myself. And the moderation team made it crystal clear: they do not want transmascs to feel safe or welcome there.

This is what transandrophobia looks like on a slightly larger internet scale. When it’s in the hands of people who get to decide who gets heard and who gets deleted.

And for anyone who’s still stuck on “well they apologized” listen: trans men are told all the time that we’re being too loud, too angry, too entitled, too manly, too feminine, too confusing, too “binary,” too "Nonbinary", too much. We’re told that we’re “oppression olympics-ing” just for talking about our lives. And now we're getting banned and locked out of the spaces that claim to represent a huge portion of online trans people.

This isn't just online drama. This is a bellwether. And if it isn’t setting off alarms in your head, it should be.

The way transandrophobia manifests in online spaces absolutely bleeds into real life, into medical gatekeeping, into poor data collection, into the erasure of sexual violence against transmascs, into advocacy groups that write us out of the picture, into educational materials that treat us like footnotes, if they include us at all.

And if you’re sitting there thinking, “well it’s not that deep,” you’re part of the problem.

We need to start being more honest about this: Transandrophobia is real, it is widespread, and it is growing. We need to stop giving people the benefit of the doubt when they’ve shown us they don’t want us in the room.

And frankly?

We need to start making TRFs [Trans Radfems & transmasc-exclusionary feminists alike] deeply uncomfortable being open about their beliefs. We need to make them afraid to be TRFs, the way they’re trying to make us afraid to exist.

The same way we don’t coddle fascists. The same way we don’t tolerate TERFs. We need to stop tiptoeing around transandrophobia.

Because this growing wave of transandrophobia is going to kill people. Full stop.

Protect trans men. Protect transmascs. Protect your siblings; all of them!

[lovelybarnes]

Sweetheart Superman- C. Kent

pairing: clark kent x reader about: you and clark dip out of work early a/n: okay i couldn't help it. this one is short, a little over 1k words because i started it with another idea in mind but i thought i should end it where i did and just use my other idea elsewhere. i'm rusty so please be kind <3

Warm yellow sunlight kisses your nose first, like a little whisper of summer that drapes over you and the report you're trying to write. It's nearing four-thirty and you've hit your slump, wanting so badly to finish but your mind too distracted, pausing every couple words to glance at Clark, a few desks away and looking especially handsome today. The end of your day can't come soon enough.

His hair is dark dark and tousled, the sweet curl you tug on to see him blush grazing the slant of his nose where his glasses sit low. You sigh and try to remember what you were doing, writing one more sentence that takes too long before sitting up and stretching out like a star, right foot brushing against the foot of your desk.

The next time you look at him, his eyes are already on you, too lovely for you to be embarrassed you've been caught. You bite your lip, having to make an effort to glance down at your near-finished report, and smooth out your dress before you walk over to him.

He's already smiling lightly when you lean against his desk, an index pulling at your dress to adjust your sleeve when you say a soft hello. "You look pretty," he tells you. You sigh, wanting nothing but to melt into him when he talks to you so nicely, which is so often you may as well be a puddle he carries around in his hands.

"Thank you," you say, a hand coming up to hold his jaw when you remember where you are, and it diverts to his fingers instead. "Do you wanna do something with me after work?"

He lights up, "Are you kidding? I'd do anything with you whenever," he says, hand reaching blindly for his desk. He ducks his chin slyly and encourages you closer, unable to help his little smile when you cant forward without question. "What do you think about leaving a little early?"

You click your tongue, studying the smooth expanse of his skin, the thin frames of his glasses, his long lashes, the enticing shape of his lips. "Arriving late and leaving early." You raise an eyebrow and set your lips. "Clark Kent," you say, scandalized.

"I'm not as nice as you think I am," he tells you, widening honeyed eyes, shutting folders and closing out his computer. You feel faint.

"Mhm. You're nicer," you say, reaching for a pen to put its cap back on.

He hums, watching you drop it in its corresponding mug and brushing his lips against your wrist in thanks. Especially thankful, he takes your hand in his and squeezes, looking pleased as punch to be able to touch your skin as you stand together. "Flattery gets you everywhere, sweetheart."

Nearby, Jimmy groans. "I thought we agreed you wouldn't be so mushy here anymore."

You flush hot. "That's not even our mushiest," Clark says, hugging you close.

"Gross, I know. Anyway, I need to talk to you," he points a finger at you, "about your Superman interview. Y'know, I thought he was Clark exclusive."

You shrug, feeling said Clark squeeze your shoulder before heading behind you. "Maybe he's this really spectacular judge of character," he says as he leaves.

"It could definitely be that," you say agreeably, shrugging at Jimmy.

"That's not what I wanted to talk to you about--I read your article. It's, well, it's different."

You cock your head. "Are you about to be mean to me? Because I'd rather you not be."

"No, no, of course not! Oh gosh, I don't mean it badly. I'm--it's kind of refreshing, to be honest. It's not like Clark, it's just... you really humanize him. I didn't think he was funny. Don't tell him I said that."

You chuckle. "Thank you, but, I don't really think he has to be humanized. I didn't mean to do that, at least, that's just how he is, so I wrote him like that. I mean," you breathe out an amused sigh and think about sweetheart Superman, who picks flowers for you and gives you a sugar rush with a look, "he likes puns. What's more human than that?"

"That's awesome," Jimmy sighs. "You know, if you could put in a good word for me--"

"Ah, so it was about that," you tease, beginning to turn around and finding Clark in front of you, your work bag swinging from a bent elbow, your desk clean behind him. Sweetheart Superman.

"It's just, Clark's been the only interviewing him for so long and, so, you're, uh, different? It's weird--well, not weird--"

"I'll tell him you have incredible character, I think that'll get him," you tell him. "But no promises, Olsen."

"That's great, it's perfect, thank you." He calls as you turn, hand outstretched for your boyfriend, who grasps it and pulls you into him.

"C'mon, I want to be mushy," he says, as serious as Clark Kent can be. He's very pretty, with his dark brows furrowed and his lovely lips set. His eyes betray him, though, as bright as you've seen them as he looks down at you. "Gross mushy."

You laugh, shaking your head as you lead him to the elevator, he follows easily, holding the elevator door and pressing the button like he isn't also holding both your bags.

"What a gentleman," you murmur, grabbing his striped tie to tug him closer. His ears pink, the elevator chiming gently as you go down floors. Your other hand reaches to take his glasses off, careful as you pull them off to hook on the neck of your dress. He's pliant in your hands when you hold his jaw, eyes flickering over your face. "I missed you," you say, no longer teasing but having the same effect on him nonetheless.

He blushes worse, wanting to tell you, me too, but finding himself unable to keep from dipping down and pressing his lips to yours. You hum, fingers loosening to crawl up and hold his jaw. "I missed you, too," he manages between breaths.

The elevator dings, and the both of you pull away hurriedly, urging his glasses onto his face as the doors part. Too flustered, they sit askew anyway, shiny lips and rosy cheeks giving him away.

Lois stands in front of the both of you, eyes narrowed as she takes the both of you in. "Animals," she says, watching you rush out.

You can only be sorry you're obsessed with your darling boyfriend. How else should he be loved?

[spaceshipkat]

who you lovin' if you don't love me

buddie | explicit | 6k It was BuckandEddie, in the kitchen, with a bowl of cake batter.

It’s late when Eddie follows his nose to the kitchen. He doesn’t even know what time it is—it’s not like he bothered to check the clock on his nightstand when this is his first day off of four and he can sleep in. All he knows is his mouth is dry and his eyes are barely open and he swears he can smell chocolate, but he thinks he’s imagining that last thing, riding the tail-end of some dream, until he stumbles over the kitchen threshold and stops to stare.

Finding Buck in his kitchen isn’t unusual or rare. They’re living together now that Eddie and Chris are back in LA because it’s hard to find a landlord willing to ignore a truly shit credit score, and it made sense for them to carpool to work while Eddie tries to sell the Prius and somehow get his truck back, and Eddie just . . . likes having Buck here. Not that he’s found the right way to say it. Neither has he found the right way to tell Buck he can simply share his bed instead of taking the couch every night, even when Eddie offers to swap on a schedule. And he certainly hasn’t found the right way to say anything important—not “I like having you here,” not “Please stay with me,” not “If I can’t find you in my house everywhere I look, and I can’t hear you making Chris laugh until he snorts every day, and I can’t wake up every morning knowing you’ll be there on the couch or in the kitchen or in the shower and that I’ll get to hear you say my name, all raspy and soft, and wish me a good night, all quiet and sweet, in a way you never say anything else, I think I might actually go insane.”

And that’s clearly not about to change now.

Because Eddie stops in his kitchen at spit-take o’clock at night and finds Buck making chocolate cupcakes, cocoa powder dusting his cheeks, flour paling one bare shoulder, wearing a brick red apron that somehow actually says “kiss the cook” in flowery font surrounded by cupids in diapers with hearts for arrowheads, and the cobwebs in Eddie’s head part just enough to allow words to form in the sticky gaps left behind.

But Eddie still says, “I told you I’d make the cupcakes,” without really hearing what comes out of his own mouth. All he knows is that he did tell Buck he’d make the cupcakes for the PTA meeting that Eddie asked Buck to attend with him (and he asked that with his heart in his throat, beating so hard and fast he half-expected it to leap past his teeth and splat onto the dining room floor, laying bare the ugly truth of every word, and feeling, and thought Eddie has chewed up and swallowed down before they can escape and ruin the best thing he’s ever had). It was actually a key part of Eddie’s request: If Buck would attend the PTA meeting with Eddie this Friday, Eddie would make the fifty chocolate cupcakes with daisy-yellow frosting he was assigned. All Buck would need to do is appear with Eddie and help keep Sonya from yet again trying to hook him up with her single sister (or her single brother, as she often hints at when he turns down the offer of meeting the sister for a blind coffee date).

Somehow Sonya has managed to clock what Buck seems blind to. Maybe, just maybe, Buck will see it there.

But there is not here, and then is not now, when Buck just grunts and shrugs and says, “Couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d get a jump on it.”

And he doesn’t look up when he says that, with such finality. Like he expects Eddie to just . . . accept that. Eddie knows Buck knows him better than that.

But first: water. He fills the cup from the tap despite Buck’s mutter of the Brita filter being full, and drinks the entire glass down, eyeing the back of Buck’s head. Buck doesn’t look up. He simply continues to stir batter that looks plenty stirred to Eddie.

“You’re gonna stir out all the air,” Eddie says.

“That’s not what happens,” Buck says. “You overmix batter and the gluten forms elastic gluten strands. Makes the cake kinda chewy and dense.”

Eddie rinses the glass and sets it on the towel to dry. Then he props his hip right up against the kitchen island, two feet away from Buck, and says, “Keep stirring like that and you’ll get a chewy and dense cake, then.”

The stirring continues. Eddie peers closer at Buck, looking past the cocoa powder and flour. His brows are furrowed, but not deeply—it’s the kind of furrow that means he’s not upset, not yet, but he’s thinking hard about something that could lead to that if his mental arguments with himself are allowed to continue unchallenged. His jaw is clenched, hard, the muscle working like he’s got jerky between his molars, though there’s chocolate at the corner of his mouth, so he’s clearly only been sampling cake. He’s wearing nothing but his sweatpants beneath the apron, despite the fact Eddie can actually see the goosebumps on his skin from the air conditioner keeping the house at a cool sixty-seven. Eddie forgot to turn it off before he went to bed, and Buck has decided to torture himself with the cold, consciously or not. And he sees the moment Buck realizes what Eddie is doing, like a wave on the sand, washing away the sand castles: his jaw relaxing, brows smoothing, eyes closing, gone for no more than a second.

Then the wave recedes and it’s all right back, Buck’s spine taut as a piano wire. Touch it wrong and it’ll snap, cutting your head off.

But Eddie isn’t afraid of Buck. He never has been. He wants everything Buck has to give him, every biting word and pointed glare and sharpened silence. This is where he wants Buck to be—in his kitchen, in his house, in the middle of the night—no matter if it’ll be sweetness or spite pouring out of his mouth.

“Stop it,” Buck spits.

Eddie has to swallow his glee at getting Buck to break first. “Stop what?”

Buck huffs. “Staring at me. Inspecting me.”

“I’m not inspecting you.”

Blue eyes flash up, catching Eddie’s and flicking away. Pink dusts his cheeks. Perhaps he didn’t realize how close Eddie was standing.

“What else would you call the way you’re looking at me?”

read the rest on ao3!!

[mifvyfilms]

hiii I’m back and asking for mueheuehe can you write something where the reader has very bad period cramps? Like fainting bad cramps and is comforted by Sanji (relation ship established)?I just got my period and I get them real bad and I love my blonde angel 😛

Tysm 🫶🫶

── .✦ SANJI VINSMOKE: coming to the rescue, m’lady .ᐟ

(a/n: i’ll fight your period cramps for you HI-YAAAA)

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ IN WHICH, he can’t stand to see his wonderful, beautiful, sexy, pretty, gorgeous, pulchritudinous future wife in the state of distress be on her period .

⊹ fluff, relationship established ᝰ sanji x fem! reader

── TODAY WAS AN extremely tragic day for sanji. he’s in distress. why? because you're in a lot of pain. he cannot stand to see the sight of his loved one barely being able to get out of bed because she had just started her monthly cycle.

those cramps are brutal.

you laid in bed, blinking at the ceiling once, twice, while sanji was running around the whole ship in flames. he was currently trying to find a pad or a tampon for you.

he would've asked nami or robin where they put it, but they currently weren't on the ship at the moment. "GAHH!" sanji shouted, pulling on his hair.

“why did chopper have to tag along with nami… my lovely (name) is dying and he’s gone!” he was bawling his eyes out.

this man does not play about you.

his hands were currently on his temple, and the cigarette in his mouth fell down to the grass. he was checking everywhere. even in places no one would put menstrual products at.

zoro was peacefully napping outside of the ship. sanji caught a glimpse of him.

and what did he do?

flip zoro over because he thought: "THAT STUPID BASTARD IS SLEEPING ON THE PADS AND SABOTAGING MY POOR AND PRECIOUS (NAME)!"

but his theory was obviously wrong, and zoro scowled at him. "what are you doing, you pervy chef?!"

sanji is now looking in the cracks of the wood. "(name) started her… I CAN'T FIND ANYTHING TO STOP THE BLEEDING!"

"why don't you go ask her where they are?! some boyfriend you are.” zoro argued.

the blond was stupid not to think of that. he realized he had left you in the dark of your room. "shut up! i knew that!" sanji then ran back to your room.

he slammed open the door and found you gone. he then realized the door to the restroom was locked and the lights were on. he knocked. "(name)… (name)! are you in there?"

you reply with a faint, "yeah."

he sighed in relief. "do you know where the pads are?"

"i told you they were in nami’s room but you left before i could finish speaking." nami’s room was right next to yours, but sanji was banned from entering her room because before you both started dating, he also had a 'small' thing for her.

"oh… i knew that.”

the bathroom door then opened, and you came out, immediately tumbling onto your bed. he runs and fixes your position, laying you down on your back. "what do you want me to do?!"

"baking a cake would be nice."

"YOU GOT IT!" he hurried out of your room and into the kitchen, trying his best to quickly bake a cake so he can bring it back to you.

he ended up baking a cake smaller than expected, but it was either this or rebaking. he would've rebaked, but he didn't want to leave you waiting any longer.

"i’m back!" he placed the cake down on your nightstand and held a fork in his hand. "do i need to feed you? maybe i should. you’re tired; you shouldn't move."

you shrugged. "do as you please."

he’s quite cringy. "here comes the choo choo tr—"

you gave him an annoyed expression. an expression that read: knock it off.

mood swings, am i right? sensing your mood, he feeds you normally while holding your other hand with his unoccupied one.

he loves holding your hands. when you finished eating the cake in one sitting, you lay back down but don't let go of his hands. "thank you, sanji. i love you."

"I LOVE YOU MORE—do you still wanna marry me?"

you chuckled. "where’s the ring?"

"STAY HERE! i’ll go get one right now!" he dashed out of your room and off the ship to go find a ring on the island.

© MIFVYFILMS ( pls don’t copy my works, repost it as your own, or translate ) MASTERLIST

[gennemi]

hellooo i have a request for erik where reader (with tattoos and piercings) goes with erik to the hospital and they were able to successfully kill bobby and bring him back and stops the curse then erik and reader go home and "celebrate" if yk what i mean 🫦 thank youuu 😭🤍

𝑪𝑬𝑳𝑬𝑩𝑹𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵

A/N: here you are lovely anon! I hope you love itttt lovely! I enjoyed writing this for you😏

Contains: smut MDI, p in v sex, unprotected sex (don't do that!), just two lovers celebrating and giving a last fuck you to death himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They did it. Against every rule of death, every snap of fate’s fingers—they did it.

You and Erik stand outside the hospital, the adrenaline still pounding through your veins, your piercings cool against your skin, tattoos dark under the sterile lights. Bobby’s alive. The curse is broken.

Erik looks at you like he can’t quite believe it, his chest rising and falling fast. “We actually fucking did it,” he breathes out, voice ragged.

You grin, wild and breathless, your heart still hammering. “Told you we could beat it,” you say, and he grabs your hand, fingers curling tight around yours. “C’mon,” Erik rasps, voice low, hungry. “Let’s go home.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The door barely shuts behind you before Erik’s on you—mouth hot and desperate, hands sliding over inked skin, tugging at your clothes. You taste the relief on his tongue, the raw, reckless need that always simmers just below the surface.

“You have no idea what it did to me—seeing you in there, thinking I could lose you,” he growls, pushing you back until your shoulders hit the wall.

“And now?” you pant, lips brushing his, the metal of your lip ring clinking against his teeth.

“Now,” Erik breathes, hand slipping under your shirt to trace the lines of your tattoos, “I’m gonna remind you who you belong to.”

Clothes hit the floor, heat coiling between your legs as Erik’s mouth drags down your neck, teeth catching on sensitive skin, tongue flicking over the metal of your piercings. His hand cups your breast, thumb circling your nipple ring until you arch into him with a gasp.

“Fuck, Erik—”

He catches your mouth in another bruising kiss, hips grinding against yours, the hard length of him pressing right where you’re already throbbing. “Bed,” he rasps, voice wrecked with want. You barely make it that far.

You fall back onto the sheets, Erik following you down, mouth finding every mark on your body, worshipping the canvas of ink and steel. His hands are everywhere—rough, possessive, trembling with the aftershock of everything you survived.

When he finally thrusts into you, it’s raw and hungry, every snap of his hips a promise: we’re alive. we’re here. you’re mine. You cling to him, nails raking down his back, the piercings in your ears catching the light as your head tilts back, moaning his name.

“Look at me,” Erik pants, thumb hooking under your chin. “Wanna see those pretty eyes when you come.”

You do—god, you do—and when you shatter around him, it feels like the final fuck-you to death itself.

After, sweaty and breathless, Erik keeps his forehead pressed to yours, his hand tracing lazy patterns over your tattoos. “We really made it,” you whisper.

“We did,” he murmurs, kissing your swollen lips. “And I’m not letting you go. Ever.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[ellerial]

Danny's been on this planet for ... okay, all his time shenanigans, along with natural time blindness, have kind of ruined his ability to tell. He's pretty sure it has been a while, though.

He's getting kind of bored, tbh. I mean, this underground alien fighting pit was pretty amusing for the first hundred or so fights, but they're starting to get monotonous. And he's pretty miffed at the fact that everyone fighting is kidnapped. And enslaved! Rude, honestly.

He hears the din above raise to an obscene level. Danny looks up as the new contender gets thrown into the pit. His eyes widen, and a feral grin spreads across his face.

The new fighter looks human. It's been so long since he's seen another human-esque person. Ooh, they even smell like earthling! And! Better yet! Simmering below their anger is ectoplasm.

Well, butter biscuits. He wants to fight the human. (Ghost rough house ftw!) But now he also just wants to bust outa this joint and take the human with him. Maybe get a drink. Have a latte, sip some chai tea. No time for a bubble bath, though.

His hand is to his chin, and he's rocking his head side to side in contemplation when the decision is made for him by a right hook to the jaw.

"So rude! I was making a decision!" He starts to duck and weave around the other fighter's fists.

"Sucks to be you. I'm not waitin' for ya to decide how yer gonna kick my ass."

Danny scoffs. "I was," he dodges a kick and the follow up fist it tried to hide, "deciding whether to fight or leave and we could," duck, duck, boop the nose, "go get a drink. I'm sure this planet has a bar or something."

The fighter makes an affronted noise at the boop. "What the fuck? Don't fuckin' lie. You killed all the other fighters you went up against!"

Danny smiles, "Did I?"

"Yes!"

"According to whom?" Danny was king. THE king. Of everything. He was OP af. Like he was going to kill his fight buddies! That's just bad manners! He got all his opponents free with liberal amounts of ectoplasm and creative use of portals.

Block, block, swipe kick. Ooooh, they've got moves. What was that flippy thing???

"OhMyAncients, you're so fun!!" Danny dodges another onslaught before dancing away to put distance between them. "Call me Barghest, he/him. What can I call you? Your pronouns? I need something more than 'new fighter' for my inner dialogue."

The other fighter pauses, looking thoroughly confused. "... Red Hood. He/him?? What is happening right now?"

"Now? I'm gonna tear this fuckin' place to the ground and you and I are getting a drink."

Hood scoffs. "I've seen you fight. You don't have the ability to tear this place down."

Danny glances at the alien ring. There are inhibitors and reinforced containments everywhere. The entire place is built to keep some of the most dangerous beings in the universe inside the pit to fight to the death.

This place was formidable, but it was meant for the living.

Danny shrugs. "I'm here on vacation."

"On vacation." Hood deadpans.

"Yup. I was bored. Thought only using my enhancement powers in a fighting pit would be a blast! And I was absolutely correct." He grins, letting his power flash his eyes green, then blue. "This was fun, but I'd rather chill with you now." He lets his power flash freeze all the containment contingencies around the pit, then lets his power shatter it all into dust accompanied by the lovely screams of the crowd. "I do have a few people I actually have to deal with first, but would you like to get outa here?"

Hood stares at his offered hand for a moment before giving a casual shrug. "Fuck it." Hood walks forward and reaches his hand out before pausing, "I gotta kill some people before we bounce, too."

Danny threw his head back and laughed. "Oh, I don't need to kill them. But I can respect the grind." He takes Hood's hand, and in the next breath, they're behind the owner of the underground ring, most of his upper lieutenants and about 30 alien goons.

Red Hood and Danny move in tandem, each taking a side and weaving their way through the group. They dodge, turn, disarm, and maneuver opponents into each others attacks in some of the most coordinated movement Danny has ever experienced. As if he knew exactly where Hood was going to be, going to strike, going to dip. It's amazing. His thoughts are static except for internal screaming. He stans this human so fucking hard.

As the leader finally fell to Hood's blade (where did those come from???) Danny turns to him with barely contained excitement. "Are we best friends? I think we just became best friends!"

"Uh..."

"Nope. Time's up. You're mine now. Besties forever." Danny opens his armory pocket dimension and pulls out some light body armor, a few blades, a couple of handguns, and an RPG. "New bestie, I bequeath unto thee protection! Let's go blow some shit up!"

Red Hoods smile finally matches his own. "I could be down for that."

[mysteryshoptls]

SR Lilia Vanrouge - C&D Diner Voice Lines

Summon: Welcome～ Thanks for coming to Crisp & Dips. Call me over whenever you figure out your order!

Groovification: What an astoundingly adorable staff! I wonder what restaurant they could possibly be working at～?

Home: Do you know what you want?

Home Transition 1: We're using magic to make the dish look appealing, huh. If anyone from the times of conflict heard of this, they'd be pretty shocked～

Home Transition 2: Looking around the inside of Crisp & Dips makes me want to chow down on some acorns. They're the most fragrant and delicious when lightly charred.

Home Transition 3: Look at him skating around serving customers with that huge smile. Any restaurant would profit from having Cater as their manager!

Home Transition - Login: It's a whole different level of hype working at a cute diner like this. Bring it all on, I'll serve, clean, and even cook!

Home Transition - Groovy: You want to go to Crisp & Dips with me? Kheeheehee, looks like it's finally time for you to try out my signature dish, the five-patty burger!

Home Tap 1: My favorite part of this outfit is this visor. Look at these little chipmunk faces... Kheeheehee, they're so cute, no?

Home Tap 2: Azul's very good with dealing with complaints. He was able to reason with a super angry customer just a bit ago... Even though it was completely those chipmunks fault for spilling the water everywhere.

Home Tap 3: I just heard that Idia's having a bit of trouble fulfilling all those orders in the kitchen. Welp, guess I should step in and give him some advice!

Home Tap 4: Customer service jobs sure are tiring. I need good stamina, patience, adaptability, memorization skills... There's just too many to count! Going into battle is easier than this.

Home Tap 5: Kheeheehee... You really like my work outfit, hmm? I don't mind one bit. Cute staff members like me stand out, so I know you can't help it.

Home Tap - Groovy: Those chipmunks sure gave us a heap of trouble, with all their running around... Maybe my stiff body is finally showing its age.

Requested by @howdopeoplelive.