#Going from a place I feel trapped in to a place where I can see the prettiest girl in the world

[lostintransist]

The Boys' Home | Part 5

Part 1 | AO3

The suit, respirator, goggles, gloves combo had you sweating like the devil in church. This wouldn’t necessarily be a problem, except your in-ear headphones were overheating and not responding to your taps to change the song. Somehow you had been stuck on the same song for damn near forty minutes. It was a good song, don’t get it twisted, but if it didn’t require leaving the house and pulling off all the gear to change the song you would have done it on the third repeat.

With the last of the lathe and plaster removed and swept from the room, you detach the chute from the window. Carefully you strip off the protective gear, clothes soaked with sweat beneath them. The next thing you do is pull your headphones out and pause your music. Sliding between the layers of plastic keeping the dust from invading the house you make your way outside to breathe fresh air.

The boys were all at Lydia Fisher’s house as her grandchildren had finally arrived for the summer stay. You had already confirmed with Lydia that the pizza delivery you were paying for would arrive at five and she would send the boys home at seven. They would absolutely all need a bath before bed.

When you open the front door all of your focus is on laying out the gear to dry over the porch railing. The respirator and the goggles go down easily, the suit gives a wet sound when you snap it to straighten out all the wrinkles. That done you look up and nearly have a heart attack.

“Jesus and a chicken!” Your hand ends up on your chest as you heave in breaths.

Where you had expected empty space stood three of your neighbors, all watching you with various expressions of quandary.

“Why a chicken?” Kyle asked as he shoved one hand into his pocket.

Your brows pull together. “I don’t know, that is what came out of my mouth in a moment of shock.”

He gives a look of acknowledgment and glances at his counterparts.

“Did you guys need something? I’ve been upstairs stripping a bedroom to get insulation and new walls put up.” You brush your hands down your shirt, now quite aware that even in the moist heat your pits, under boob, and groin had yet to dry.

“Wanted to see if there were any neighborhood events we should be aware of,” Johnny spoke up, moseying up to the porch railing and hanging over it to talk to you.

You leaned against the main post, folding your arms as you thought.

“Nothing formal, but every third weekend a few families get together over at my place and we grill and let the kids run wild.” You direct your answers to the group but look mostly at Johnny.

Simon and Kyle step closer, like wolves you had watched on nature documentaries. When they close in you snap your gaze to Kyle and then to Simon. It gets trapped on Simon, the dark pitch of his eyes pulling you in like tar that swallowed ice-age animals whole.

“You need anything, bonnie?”

The hum of question you give is distracted. Turning your face away from Simon, it takes extra effort to drag your gaze to Johnny. Blinking a few times to clear your mind you process what you heard.

“Mmm, don’t think so. Unless you guys can sheet rock and mud a bedroom in under a day?”

Johnny grinned and Kyle chuckled, Simon let out a small huff that could be construed as a laugh.

“Can’t say we know how yet, but we will by the time we are done fixing up our own house,” Kyle smirks up at you.

“Been meaning to ask you about that. Are you all together or just really good friends?” They share a look and you go on, bulldozing past any awkwardness creeping up your body like kudzu. “I only ask because folks around here will talk and if I can head off the rumors your time here will be easier. Lord only knows why I’m their favorite subject.”

“Na, we work together. Military stuff and we find it easier to feel safe when we know there is someone who can watch our back as we rest,” Johnny gives a small smile to the gaps between the porch slats.

Nodding as if you understand, you most assuredly do not, you tuck that information away for your next run-in with any of the town gossips, Cherrie and Marline. They would be after you like hens after a chick when they found out you were now living next door two four presumably eligible, and decidedly, attractive bachelors.

‘What about your everlasting soul? Living so close to such men might tempt you into sin.’ They would always whisper the word sin as if one woman’s boy hadn’t been born out of wedlock and the other hadn’t been caught having an affair ten years back. One of these days you would remind the two of them of what Jesus actually called a sin, and it wasn’t ‘treating your neighbor as yourself’.

“Where are your boys today?” Simon speaks up now, everyone turning to look at him as he stares straight at you.

“They are at the Fisher’s. Lydia’s grandchildren have arrived and we have a standing agreement to timeshare the children until school starts back up,” you grin wide thinking about your boys. “I don’t know if you’ve met them yet, they live in the opposite direction from my house.”

Your former pastor had commented on it once. You didn’t go to church anymore, for too many damn reasons to recall or recount but Pastor Harry had been a good man and reminded you that there were people in the world who practiced what they preached.

“I know you never wanted to be a mom, but those boys? I can see the love you have for them written all over your face when you talk about them. I’m real proud of you for taking them in and fighting for them,” he laid a hand on your shoulder with a gentle squeeze.

The quiet comfort and confidence Pastor Harry had given you that day had fueled you for weeks and helped you swat away the nastier comments lobbed your way from parents of your students, the administration, and even the cashier at the local stop and rob.

Looking back to the men standing in the heat of the day you make a decision.

“Why don’t y’all take a seat and I’ll grab us all some sweet tea and ice pops.” Turning around without waiting for an answer you let the screen door slam shut behind you.

When you return the only seat available is next to Simon on the porch swing. Passing each man a refreshment you settle into the cushion and try to toe the swing into motion. When nothing happens you glance at Simon who is staring at your nice glass with something akin to mistrust in his eyes.

“You don’t have to drink it but can you at least lift your feet so I can rock the swing?” The single brow lift seems to do the trick.

“This is delicious!” Johnny cries as he stares down at his glass. “Never got the appeal of hot tea but this? I will miss this when we go back to work.”

The swing begins a soft back-and-forth movement. Glancing down you see Simon’s boot flat on the porch; his thigh bunches and releases in time with the movement.

“What do you think Kyle?” Sipping at your own tea you watch him for an answer.

“Might need this recipe for my mum, to be frank.” He looks down at his glass with a mixture of pleased concern written across his face.

“Be happy to send you with a recipe card.” You can’t wipe the smile from your face. Your front porch didn’t get as much use as you would like, they were the first visitors to use it this year.

Kyle and Johnny chat with you for nearly a half hour before by the winding down of the conversation the men stand in tandem. They all trail into the house to deposit their glasses in the sink before saying their goodbyes and rounding the house for the trail that would lead them back to their own home.

Placing your cup in the sink next to theirs you are surprised to see three empty glasses and a bone-dry sink. Seems the quiet man had sipped at his drink after all.

You would need to be sure to offer it again. Best to be sure if he liked it or if his mother had taught him it would be rude to reject an offer of a refreshment. Neither said anything bad about a person but it would help future interactions to know what your neighbors liked.

Boys Masterlist | Masterlist

@leahnicole1219 @harperstyles @sigynxlokiwifelover @fluffysmiko

[foreverdolly]

Intolerance cannot be beaten with tolerance. 

I have always written and read as a means to escape from my day to day life, even before the struggles of adulthood was even a blip on the horizon. This blog is a safe space for me. I love hearing that my writing, despite the fact that it is nothing but fanfiction (for now, at least), helps people escape for a little while as well. Whether you’re reading before bed in order to silence your mind for long enough to get some shut eye or pulling up tumblr during a rough and emotional day, somewhere along the way you found your way to me. I cherish the fact that our paths have crossed like this. 

Right now, more than ever, the world feels like a very terrifying place. I hate the idea of lifting the finely tuned veil that I have tried to cast over this blog, what with it being my safe little corner of the internet, but silence is complacency. I refuse to be complacent to what is going on right now in the United States of America. When I woke up on November sixth there was an impending sense of dread. As a woman who had listened to the vitriol from the other side, I was naturally terrified. Waking up and seeing “your body, my choice” plastered on every social media site was nothing short of horrific. There is no woman or girl in this world that has not been violated in some way by a man, whether that be physically, verbally or emotionally. 

I look at the hateful rhetoric disguised as Christian love- pastors preaching about eradicating the queer community. About taking away a woman’s bodily autonomy. About ripping children away from their parents. They paint the progressive thinkers to be monsters. To that I say: who are truly the monsters?

We are more worried about banning drag queen story times than protecting our youth who are being killed whilst trying to do something as innocent as receive an education. Our people are living paycheck to paycheck and we're more focused on stripping people's basic human rights away from them than uplifting the impoverished.

This country takes away social media platforms or buys them out all together as a means to monitor the speech and behavior of its people. It dictates how we will raise and teach our children all while forcing them to assimilate to a consciousness of their own design. Women are dying every day due to health complications. Transgender youth and adults would rather eternally sleep than put up with the constant harassment and erasure. The gay and lesbian communities are having their way of life threatened. . . and for what? 

The states have never seemed this divided. It is no longer a difference of politics but a difference of morals. Beyond even that, it is a total lack of empathy. The vocabulary being thrown around by that side is eye opening: “eradicate”,“purge”,“the reckoning” etc. 

Fear mongering is something that I absolutely abhor, but I truly mean it when I say that these next four years are going to be rough. I am certain that the rules and regulations that will be put into place will affect us for many years to come. We are going backwards- back to a time where people of color were terrified to leave their own homes because of the threat of violence. A time where people couldn’t love who they wanted. A time where women had rights stripped away from them and were seen as little other than cattle. 

If there was ever a time to fight then now would be that time. We all have a voice, no matter how quiet. Use it. 

Reject racism. Reject sexism. Reject classism.

This blog is a safe space for those that are genderqueer, queer, and of color. We are trapped. The fire is coming from inside of the house and sadly we can no longer save those that are throwing themselves into it as kindling. 

If you are scared and need someone to talk to please message me. I will give you my personal discord so that we can chat regularly if you need someone on your side right now.

If you feel alone please know that you are not. 

[avatarofthelesbian]

what tma fear domains I THINK (my opinion etc leave me alone) arcane characters would be trapped in with little explanation that makes even less sense (yes the web is here twice. so is the extinction. its arcane what did you expect.):

vi: a desolation domain (everyone and everything she'd ever cared for burns around her. she was never materialistic, but there used to be people in those now-smoking ruins. there were people that turned away from her while she felt the flames on her own skin.)

caitlyn: a hunt domain (she can never rest in the chase. one moment to consider sparing those in her path is her loss. the chase consumes her, but it will never end.)

jinx: a spiral domain (are their faces real? are their words real? is she real?)

ekko: an extinction domain (he is out of time, and even he can't fix it this time. there is a world, and he knows he breathed life into it. he knows there were others. but it's just him now, and they were no match for those that sat and watched it fall to ruin. concrete and rusted metal is all that's left now, and he knows it burrows so deep no roots will grow past it.)

jayce: an eye domain (he has to know. what it is that he has to know, he doesn't know, and it might well destroy him. he knows he is watched, but it won't sway him frim the path of discovery.)

viktor: a flesh domain (no rambling explanation here. you heard the part in mag171 about the cutaway tulip.)

mel: a web domain (every twitch of her fingers yanks on the puppet-strings attached to them, and she doesn't know if she'd rather the puppet hate her or be none the wiser. she's trapped in another web, though, and the pattern must go up forever.)

ambessa: a slaughter domain (she knows the war has a purpose. all wars do. the moment-to-moment blood on her hands makes the memory of that purpose slip away.)

sevika: a lonely domain (there are people all around her, she knows. some of them might hate her, she thinks she might try to lead others. the fog drifts around her face - they don't know her. somebody might have, once, but she doesn't remember them.)

silco: a corruption domain (his home is riddled with holes. he tries to repair them, to build a place apart from this, but the rot persists. perhaps the rot is within him, and he carries it as his home crumbles at the edges. he cannot save it, dearly as the rot loves him.)

vander: a buried domain (he shouldn't be trapped here. where 'here' is, he doesn't know, but it's dark and pressing. he is needed, but every cry of his name pushes the walls closer. his throat is full of mud, even if he could find the words to do what he needs to.)

singed: an end domain (he can't stop. if he does, the end will come for them all. his steps are slow, slowed more as he drags with him what he loves, what must not be terminated. it follows, that invisible cloud of death, and it will catch him and all he holds dear.)

heimerdinger: an extinction domain (he knows he caused this, that he sat by until it was too late to save what literal remained of the world. there is nobody left now, as he wanders the decaying remnants of the lives that people had begged him to change. he is all that is left, and he will continue forever.)

maddie: a web domain (they hate her. she doesn't know who they are, but they hate her. her wooden jaw is moved as a voice that belongs to thousands of tiny things spills from her mouth. she has no control over the show, but perhaps this act is the one that the puppetmaster will admire. it won't be, as much as her character tries to imitate it.)

isha: a dark domain (she is a child, after all. something big is coming, she cannot see it or hear it but in the blackness she feels it. she can't scream, and nobody is coming. she doesn't know what is approaching.)

i feel like some of these (silco and maddie especially) only make sense to me. oh well.

[creeperkiwi]

ghost of you | Tim Drake x ghost!reader ᯓ★

sumarry: Tim Drake was inspecting the building where one of the most wanted villains of the last month was found. He knew there were strange things going on, but meeting a ghost boy was not in his plans, much less being smitten by his beauty.

male reader, word counter: 3330

masterlist

The building lay in ruins, abandoned to its fate like a forgotten skeleton in the heart of Gotham. Dampness clung to the cracked walls, and the echo of dripping water from a partially collapsed ceiling sounded like whispers of ancient secrets. Darkness gripped every corner, pierced only by the faint light filtering through broken windows and sagging beams. Tim Drake moved cautiously, his flashlight revealing invisible paths among the dust suspended in the air, like stars trapped in a shadowy universe.

There was something peculiar about the place. Beyond the signs of struggle and the traces of the villain captured there weeks ago, the atmosphere felt heavy, almost watchful. Tim was no stranger to the strange, but this sensation was different—an eerie chill that crawled down his spine like cold fingers.

He advanced into a room where time seemed to have stopped. A dilapidated piano sat at its center, its yellowed keys covered in dust. Around it lay fallen books, broken furniture, and air that smelled of dampness and despair. The young hero frowned. Something didn’t add up.

Then he saw it.

At first, he thought it was just another shadow, a trick of the flashlight. But as he adjusted the angle, the figure took shape—a boy, no older than himself, sitting in a corner. He seemed almost translucent, as if he didn’t belong to this world. His pale skin emitted a faint glow, and his disheveled, snow-white hair fell over eyes that held oceans of sorrow.

Tim took a step back, unsettled. There were no signs of entry or exit in the room, and his equipment hadn’t detected anyone else. Yet, there he was, a specter among the ruins.

“Who are you?” Tim asked, his voice firm but not aggressive.

The boy looked up, startled, as if he hadn’t expected to be seen. He didn’t answer. His lips quivered but formed no words. There was a void in his gaze, an absence that spoke of lost memories and an existence barely hanging on.

“You’re not alive... are you?” Tim muttered, more to himself than to the boy.

The ghost shook his head, almost imperceptibly. Then, he raised a hand and pointed to something behind Tim. The young hero spun around immediately, searching for the threat, but all he found was a wall covered in graffiti. When he turned back, the specter was no longer in the corner but standing a few steps away. He seemed to be watching Tim with a mixture of curiosity and fear, as if Tim were the apparition and not him.

“Why can only I see you?” Tim asked, narrowing his eyes, trying to analyze the situation logically. But there was something about the ghost’s presence that defied all reason. It wasn’t hostile, at least not outwardly. And yet, there was a sadness so profound in its features that Tim felt a knot tighten in his chest.

The ghost opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Frustrated, he brought a hand to his throat and shook his head. Tim understood immediately—he couldn’t speak.

“Great,” Tim muttered sarcastically. “A mute ghost. This just keeps getting better.”

The boy tilted his head, as if unsure whether to feel offended or intrigued. Then he extended a finger and pointed at Tim. The young hero raised an eyebrow.

“What? Me?” The ghost nodded slowly. “Perfect. A mute, cryptic ghost. Sure, why not.”

For some reason, Tim’s deadpan expression made the specter crack a faint smile—barely a hint, but enough for the young hero to notice. For a brief moment, something warm seeped into the icy atmosphere of the room.

“I guess I’ll call you ‘Ghost Boy’ until you remember your name, huh?” Tim said, tucking the flashlight into his belt and crossing his arms. “Don’t get too close. I still don’t know if you’re safe.”

The ghost didn’t reply, but his eyes seemed to speak for him. Tim felt a different kind of chill this time—one not from the surroundings but from something deeper. There was beauty in that ethereal figure, a fragility that unsettled him and made him want to look longer than he should.

In the days that followed, the specter became a constant presence in his life. Always nearby, silently following him like a shadow. At first, it annoyed Tim, but he soon began to grow accustomed to it. He watched as Ghost Boy observed him with a mix of shyness and growing trust, as if being close to Tim gave him something he’d long lost—a purpose.

Their conversations became a game of deduction. Tim would speak, and the ghost would nod, shake his head, or point, creating a makeshift system of communication that, though frustrating, worked. There were moments when Tim, exhausted from patrols and sleepless nights, would throw sarcastic remarks at him just to see the ghost roll his eyes or flash a fleeting smile.

“What are you doing here, following me?” Tim asked one night while reviewing documents at the Batcomputer. The ghost stood beside him, watching with a curious expression.

The boy raised a finger and pointed at Tim, as he had the first time. Then he touched his own chest, as if trying to convey something.

“You need me?” Tim ventured, tilting his head. The ghost nodded.

A charged silence fell between them, broken only by the hum of the machines. Tim, almost without realizing it, let out a sigh.

“I can’t promise anything,” he murmured, more to himself than to the specter. “But I guess I can try to help.”

The ghost didn’t say anything, but his expression spoke volumes. And for the first time in a long while, Tim felt that maybe—just maybe—his exhausting life as a hero could be set aside, only for a moment.

Days passed, and Tim’s routine became strangely shared. The ghost boy was always there, watching him with that silent calm that could be both reassuring and unsettling. Tim wouldn’t admit it, but he had started to grow accustomed to his presence. At times of utter solitude, he even found himself speaking aloud, addressing the specter as if it were a confidant.

However, not everyone in the Wayne family was as used to Tim’s new habits.

“You look worse than usual,” Damian grumbled one morning in the kitchen, eyeing his adoptive brother with a mix of irritation and poorly disguised concern. “When was the last time you slept?"

Tim barely looked up from the coffee mug clutched in his hands. The ghost boy stood near the window, invisible to the others, observing the interaction with his sad, large eyes.

“I’m fine,” Tim replied, his tone sharper than necessary.

Bruce, seated at the end of the table, set his newspaper aside and studied him with his usual analytical gaze. He said nothing at first, but his silence was more eloquent than any verbal reprimand.

“You’ve been talking to yourself a lot lately,” Dick commented from the other end of the kitchen, trying to lighten the tension. “And I don’t mean thinking out loud. I mean full conversations with someone who isn’t there.”

“What are you insinuat—” Tim began, cutting himself off when he noticed the way they were all looking at him.

“What we’re insinuating,” Bruce finally interjected, “is that you’re overworking yourself, Tim. The building case, your patrols, your work as Red Robin… You can’t do everything without consequences.”

Tim pressed his lips together, feeling frustration bubble under the surface. He couldn’t tell them the truth. How could he explain that he wasn’t talking to himself, but to a ghost? Even to him, it sounded absurd.

“I’m fine,” he repeated, this time with a tone of exasperation. He stood abruptly, leaving his mug on the table. “I just need space.”

The ghost boy followed him as he left the kitchen, gliding after him like an ethereal shadow. Tim walked to his room, shut the door behind him, and collapsed into the chair at his desk, running a hand through his dark hair in frustration.

“See what you’re doing to me?” he muttered to the specter, who hovered near the window. His tone wasn’t truly angry, more resigned. “They think I’m losing my mind from lack of sleep.”

The ghost lowered his gaze, guilt and helplessness mixing in his expression. He hadn’t meant to cause problems, but he didn’t know how to disappear either.

Tim sighed, resting his elbows on the desk and dropping his head into his hands. The connection between them was inexplicable but increasingly difficult to ignore. Sometimes, it felt like the ghost understood him better than anyone, which terrified and comforted him in equal measure.

“It’s not your fault,” he finally said, his tone softening. He looked up at the specter, who seemed relieved by his words. “Just… if we’re going to keep doing this, I need to find a way to prove I’m not crazy.”

The ghost didn’t respond, but he floated closer to Tim, as if trying to offer reassurance. Tim felt the familiar chill that always accompanied his presence, but this time, instead of being bothered, he found it almost comforting.

“We’ll figure out who you are and why you’re here,” Tim promised, leaning forward to look at him more closely. “But I need you to help me not lose my own mind in the process.”

The ghost nodded slowly, a spark of trust in his eyes—a silent promise that he would be there to uncover his truth and protect Tim from the chaos he had brought along.

The abandoned building remained a key location in their investigation. Tim had inspected it thoroughly, but the ghost boy insisted on pointing out certain places as if trying to guide him toward something important. That evening, Tim returned, fully equipped and on high alert.

“Show me again where you saw it,” Tim requested, holding a scanner in one hand.

The ghost pointed to a crack in the floor where a piece of wood jutted out among the debris. Tim knelt, carefully clearing away the rubble. His fingers brushed against something solid: a small, rusted medallion with barely legible engravings.

“Does this mean anything to you?” Tim asked, holding it up for him to see.

The specter studied the object intently, his expression shifting to one of anguish and recognition. He stepped back, as if the sight of it affected him deeply.

“Well, it’s something,” Tim muttered, sealing the medallion in a bag on his belt. He stood, observing the ghost carefully. “We’ll figure this out, whatever it is.”

The ghost looked at him with a kind of gratitude that didn’t need words, but there was also a shadow of sadness in his eyes, as though he feared what the search might reveal.

Back at the Batcomputer days later, Tim examined the medallion. It belonged to an orphanage in Gotham that had closed over a decade ago. As he read through the files, the ghost remained by his side, as silent as ever but intently focused on the screen.

“Does this place mean something to you?” Tim asked, pointing at the image of the orphanage.

The ghost nodded slowly, moving closer. Tim glanced at him, trying to ignore the cold air that always seemed to surround him.

“We’ll go tomorrow,” Tim said, leaning back in his chair. He ran a hand through his hair, tired but determined. “But I need some sleep first.”

The ghost seemed restless, as if he didn’t want to wait. He took a step toward Tim, instinctively lifting a hand toward his face. It was an odd gesture, almost as if he were trying to comfort him.

And then it happened.

For the first time, Tim felt the ghost’s touch: an intense cold that sliced through his skin like a blade of ice. He froze, eyes wide, as the ghost’s hand briefly rested against his cheek. The contact was fleeting, barely a second, but enough to make Tim’s heart race.

“How…?” he whispered, but before he could finish, the connection broke.

The ghost looked just as startled, staring at his own hand as if he didn’t understand what had happened. He stepped back, his form flickering faintly as though losing stability. Tim reached out, but his hand passed through the specter as usual.

“Great. Another mystery,” Tim muttered, lowering his hand in frustration.

The ghost watched him, guilty, but Tim just shook his head.

“It’s fine. It was… weird, but it’s fine. Just don’t try it again until we know why it happened. I don’t want you disappearing or something worse.”

The ghost nodded, his expression serious. Tim wasn’t sure what had just happened, but a part of him couldn’t shake how human that touch had felt, like there was something more to the ghost that tethered him to this world.

The next day, while inspecting the orphanage building, Tim decided to take a risk. They had found a journal among the rubble, and though the ghost couldn’t touch it, it was clear it held some importance to him.

“All right, let’s try this,” Tim said, holding the journal in one hand and extending the other toward the specter. “If you could touch me before, maybe you can do it again.”

The ghost looked at him uncertainly but nodded. Slowly, he raised his hand and reached toward Tim’s. For a moment, they both held their breath, as if the entire world had paused.

But this time, there was no cold, no sensation at all. The ghost’s hand passed through Tim’s as it always did, leaving no trace. The specter stepped back, his expression disheartened, while Tim glanced down at his own hand, frustrated.

“It doesn’t matter,” Tim said, trying to brush it off, though his voice betrayed a hint of disappointment. “We’ll figure out how it worked the first time.”

The ghost looked at him, his dark eyes filled with unspoken apologies. Tim just sighed and tucked the journal into his backpack.

“Come on, we’ve got work to do. This isn’t going to stop us.”

As they walked through the dark hallways of the building, Tim couldn’t stop thinking about that fleeting moment of contact and how something so brief could feel so significant.

The journal they found didn’t turn out to be the key they’d hoped for. Instead of revealing who the ghost was, its pages spoke of another victim: a young woman who had been trapped and murdered by the villain who used the building as his lair. Her accounts of fear and despair were like a dagger to Tim’s heart, but for the ghost, they were a brutal reminder of his own tragedy.

As they read through the journal’s final entries together, the specter brought a hand to his temple, as if something was breaking inside him.

“I remember,” he whispered suddenly.

Tim looked up, surprised to hear his voice.

“What do you remember?”

The ghost closed his eyes tightly. His form flickered faintly, as though he was on the verge of vanishing.

“My death... It happened here. He... chained us all to the walls, and every week, one of us would die and...” The specter faltered, his barely audible voice breaking into a murmur. “I don’t know who I was before that, but I remember everything. The pain. The fear.”

Tim set the journal aside and stepped closer to the ghost, feeling the air grow colder around him. The specter looked more vulnerable than ever, like a fractured reflection of something that had once been human.

“You don’t need to remember everything,” Tim said softly, his voice cutting through the heavy silence of the room. “You don’t need to know who you were before this.”

The ghost opened his eyes and looked at him, confused.

“How can I move forward without knowing?”

Tim crossed his arms, studying him with a mix of determination and compassion.

“Because you’re not what they did to you. You’re not just your death. You can start over. Be someone new.”

The ghost seemed to consider his words, his lost expression softening little by little.

“Do you really think I can?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

Tim nodded.

“I believe in you.”

A heavy silence fell between them, but something had shifted. The specter took a step closer to Tim, and this time, when he extended his hand, it wasn’t to pass through him like before. Tim felt the cold yet firm touch of the ghost’s fingers against his own.

“It works,” Tim murmured, unable to hide the surprise in his voice.

The ghost pulled his hand back, looking at it as if he couldn’t believe what had just happened. Then he lifted his gaze to Tim, his uncertain expression transforming into a faint smile.

Tim slowly raised his hand and gently placed it on the ghost’s cheek, their breaths mingling as their lips met, catching the specter off guard.

The ghost let out a brief laugh—the first Tim had ever heard from him. And for the first time, the air between them didn’t feel cold or heavy. It felt, strangely, like a new beginning.

The tranquility of Wayne Manor was shattered one night when Dick decided to pay Tim a surprise visit in his room. As usual, he barged in without knocking, a carefree grin on his face.

“Tim! Did you know that—?” The words died in his throat.

There, standing by Tim’s desk, was the ghost boy. His ethereal figure glowed faintly under the light of the monitor, and his expressionless face turned toward Dick with an unsettling calm.

Dick jumped back, hitting the door with a loud thud, his eyes wide as saucers.

“WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?!” he yelled, pointing at the specter with a mix of horror and confusion.

Tim, who was sitting at his desk going through files, turned slowly, frowning.

“‘That’? He’s my… friend,” he replied, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

The ghost tilted his head slightly, staring at Dick without a word.

Dick started pointing frantically between the ghost and Tim.

“I thought Damian was lying when he said you had a ghost boyfriend! But… Oh my God, he was right! IT’S REAL!”

Tim groaned, covering his face with his hand, letting out a deep sigh of resignation.

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Then what is he?!” Dick flailed his hands dramatically, clearly on the verge of a meltdown. “Because I swear, if he moves through walls, I’m going to scream louder than Damian does when he loses a chess match!”

The ghost, completely unfazed, seemed almost amused by Dick’s overreaction—probably the first time anyone had found an adult in blue spandex so comical.

“He’s harmless,” Tim said, trying to calm Dick as he stood up from his chair. “And the whole ‘ghost boyfriend’ thing is ridiculous.”

“Sure, sure,” Dick replied, raising his hands in mock surrender as he edged toward the door. “I just want it on record that if he starts moving objects or possessing people, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Before he could leave, the ghost stepped forward and, with a smooth motion, pushed a book from the edge of Tim’s desk toward Dick. The book hit the floor with a loud thud.

“I KNEW HE WOULD MOVE STUFF!” Dick shouted, bolting out the door.

Tim watched his older brother sprint down the hallway, while the ghost, for the first time, showed a faint, mischievous smile.

“You really shouldn’t have done that,” Tim said, though his tone made it clear he was more amused than annoyed.

The ghost merely shrugged, his eyes glinting with playful mischief.

“Well,” Tim muttered, leaning forward against the desk, placing his hands on either side of the ghost, effectively trapping him. “At least now Damian won’t be able to use the whole ‘ghost boyfriend’ thing against me just to annoy me.”

The ghost didn’t reply, but something in his expression hinted that he was enjoying the closeness far more than he should.

[frumfrumfroo]

A few years ago, I was discussing The Last Jedi with a classmate and he said something like “It was a good movie, just not a good Star Wars movie”. At the time, I chalked it up to the fact that he was a teenage boy who was probably parroting the vague and irritating criticism that the movie faced at the time. Years later, I began to think about that moment more and more. Despite hearing that critique so many times, hearing it from him made me reflect on the concept of “getting” Star Wars and what fans perceive as “getting” Star Wars.

What the last few years (and the stream of post-TROS shows) have taught me, is that a large portion of fans don’t actually get what Star Wars is. The same is true for those who are currently planning the future of the franchise. They don’t see the value in the mythical framework of the series or care to understand it, it seems like they overlook it entirely. They’re so consumed by the fidelity to “the lore” that they can’t take step back and see the (mythical) elements that drew them to the story in the first place. It feels a bit arrogant of me to say that, but it’s a feeling that’s been bothering me.

Yes, part of the core of the problem is that even the people who actually like SW that DLF hired seem to be mostly fans of the old EU who are fundamentally unconcerned with what SW is actually about. People who prioritise 'lore' and minutiae, who think trivia is worldbuilding or that 'worldbuilding' is what defines the GFFA.

Whereas what actually defines the GFFA is the themes ('love people, that's all Star Wars is' -George Lucas). The universe exists to tell the story and the story exists to communicate the themes. It is character-driven, not plot or setting driven. Things making emotional sense is the only thing that matters in the OT, the logistics are irrelevant and incidental. It's not sci-fi and never has been, there is no interest in explaining the rules of the technology or codifying the Force into a structured system. There is no exploration of the relationship of society with technology because this is an epic fantasy story focussing on the conflict going on in the human spirit between selfishness and love; it's about the coming of age of an individual where the entire setting is established to facilitate that. SW is a story about individuals and their journey to ethical adulthood.

TLJ is written to the mythic archetype and themes of SW, its basic narrative shape is absolutely textbook exactly what anyone who understands literary criticism should have expected. It is exactly what a SW sequel to TFA should and needed to be. Which is why so many people doing that kind of analysis were able to accurately predict its main story beats.

The lore fans who want 'realism', video game power system Force magic, and the kind of moral ambiguity which is foundationally incompatible with SW are not fans of the story, they are fans of the trappings. These are the people who dismiss Vader's redemption as a unforunate incidental that 'everyone' can ignore because the rest of RotJ is good (paraphrase of an actual post I saw).

THE moral victory, the protagonist's moment of vindication, the entire POINT of the story and this dude thinks it's like, an accidental blooper that just kinda snuck into the edit because he wants Luke to be a standard American hero and not to have his worldview challenged.

I am totally comfortable saying they don't get SW no matter how much trivia they've memorised and merch they've collected.

[silvercap]

hey Silver! I was thinking #20 for the h/c prompts? anyone you like but I mean we love torturing the blonde man 😌

We do indeed 🤭 and boy do I have a good one

20. "Please stop."

Chris comes to to the blaring of the car alarm, his neck aching as he groans and carefully shifts his head on the soft surface he's found himself resting on. Tiny pinpricks scrape his cheek as broken glass tinkles somewhere, the shaky trail of warm blood on the side of his cheek warning him that something is wrong. He opens his eyes.

The first thing he notices is Leon, unconscious and bloody in the driver's seat, his head lolling to hang over his chest and bangs covering his face. His arms hang limp at his sides, seatbelt the only thing keeping him from falling out of his seat entirely---and it's then that Chris notices the crumpled-in driver's-side door jamming into Leon's bloody upper arm, the angle of it awkward and horribly broken. He gasps, sitting upright, only to black out for a minute as woozy lightheadedness takes him for a spin. Okay. Slow movements, it seems.

Chris still feels like he's going to vomit as he sluggishly clicks his seatbelt off and reaches out to shake Leon's shoulder, depth perception worryingly off. The faint sound of growling somewhere in the distance makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, the crystal-clear memory of the BOWs that had driven them off the road and straight into a thicket of trees jolting him into action.

"Leon," he croaks. "Leon, you have t' wake up."

It takes a long moment for Leon's eyes to flicker open, his face turning towards Chris's voice like a flower towards the sun. The rest of his body is worryingly limp. His lips move like he wants to say something, but all that spills forth is a trickle of blood. Chris unbuckled his seatbelt for him and tugs on his arm.

"We have to go. Can you try to wiggle out of there?"

Leon moans, shifting. The action yanks on his injured arm where it's still caught in the door's mangled mass, his head falling back as he spasms. Chris wants to sob. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. We have to go, just try one more time."

He pulls on Leon's arm desperately, trying to get him unpinned---

"Please...." Leon rasps, voice taut with pain. "Please stop."

Chris freezes. Leon's face is twisted in utter agony when he looks, his awkward, broken arm held at an uncomfortable angle where his upper body has begun to lean towards Chris. Panic rises somewhere in Chris's chest.

"They're coming, Leon, we have to get you out of here!"

"Please stop," Leon pleads again, voice hazy in a way that tells Chris he's barely clinging to consciousness. "Just go, just---please, just leave me."

Chris wants to argue but he knows there's no time. He shakes his head and squeezes Leon's shoulder, then pushes his car door open and stumbles out into the fading evening sunlight. Not too far away, he can see the BOWs racing towards the car, and Chris steels himself in preparation. Maybe he can't get Leon out of here, but he'll defend the place he's trapped in with everything he has---or die trying.

[thequeenofcurses]

His Weakness

summary: they said he had no weaknesses -- until he met you. homelander x fem!reader fluff wk: 1.7k

They said he had no weaknesses. He is impossibly fast and strong. He can fly, has super-hearing, along with x-ray vision. He is a tall, charming, ocean-eyed, blonde and has the sweetest smile you’ve ever seen. His laugh could change your whole mood, and seeing him stare back into your eyes made your heart melt.

Your relationship was far from conventional. For one, the bitch Stillwell would never approve of you two being publicly out together. Plus, you have this teeny aching feeling in your chest that she may have the hots for him. Secondly, he was right, and you two going public as a couple might indeed put you in danger. Homelander has a lot of enemies, and he doesn’t doubt any of them would try to hurt you to get to him. As he always says, “your safety comes first.”

“But you did it with Maeve!” you would protest.

“No offense, honey, but Maeve is a supe,” he would say. “Besides, our relationship wasn’t real. It was just something Madelyn wanted us to do. It was good press for a while,” he’d chuckle.

You would pout your sadness, but agree that he was right. Queen Maeve was also bulletproof and could snap a man’s neck with one hand. What could you do? Cower in fear or run away, screaming for help? You were only human.

You remember when you first met, never thinking you two would end up where you are now.

The black smoke was clouding the room so fast you could hardly see. Your eyes were burning as you tried to navigate the small area of your bedroom.

The fire was burning everywhere, all around you, with no real escape insight. Screams could barely be heard, as the fire was drowning most sounds out. You prayed internally that the fire department or someone would come to save you guys, but as the seconds went by and the flames grew more abundant, that thought was becoming a fantasy.

You lived on the fifth floor, so crawling out the window wasn’t an option. The flames were beginning to rise even higher. You were starting to run out of options and time. There was no way you couldn’t take the ‘easy way out.’ Especially knowing your sister and her baby still sound like they’re trapped down the hall.

You may not be a supe, but you don’t necessarily need powers to save anyone. You turn toward your bed and wrap your full body in blankets, then face the door.

CRASH!

Suddenly, your window is broken, and all the fire starts to lean towards it as if it also wants freedom.

You were squinting and coughing, trying to breathe through the smoke. You could make out red boots and what seemed to be a red and white cape.

“H-homelander?” you coughed.

“Ma’am. This place is about to blow. I’m going to have to get you to safety.”

“No!” you coughed back at him. “I won’t leave my family.” You gathered your blankets and sprinted towards the door and into the hallway.

Homelander stood agape, amazed a powerless human would reject his help. Quickly regaining control of the situation, Homelander followed you.

You dropped to your knees, crawling, trying to navigate the halls, with only your blanket and your memory of the house to navigate you.

“‘aam, let, ‘elp,” you thought you heard from behind you. Focused, you kept pushing forward. You weren’t leaving here without your family. If they died, then you might as well be dead too.

“Somebody help, please!!!” you could hear your sister crying. “Please, help!! I have a baby with me!” You crawled faster toward the voices, ignoring the burning smoke in your eyes.

You finally arrived at their door. It should be soft enough for me to kick or ram it down, you thought to yourself. You flipped over to your back, making sure your body was still covered and began to kick. “Amy, Sarah, I’m right here! Hold on!” you shouted. “C’mon, come on, come on!” You kicked with all your might. Crack! The door finally gave in. Your sister called out to you, and you got up and carefully crawled to the corner they were in, avoiding the burning pieces of the wooden floor.

“Thank God, you two are okay.” you cried. “Here, take my blanket!” You wrapped them up as best you could.

Before you could react, you are pulled up to your feet. “Look, lady, this place is gonna crash, you need to get–” you shrugged the deviant’s hand away. Homelander's.

“No!” you yelled. You pointed to your right with a cough. “Them first.”

He glanced at them with an ever so slight look of disgust. A woman and a small infant. He quickly smiled at them and said: “alright, everything’s going to be okay.” Homelander made sure the duo was securely in the blanket, then picked them up and began to fly back the way he came.

Homelander was fast but fast enough to save you too? You weren’t so sure.

Crash.

The doorframe from the door you kicked down just fell, blocking your exit and trapping you.

Crackle, crackle.

The ceiling was starting to give in.

“At least they’re safe,” you whispered to yourself. You leaned against the corner they once were in, slid down the wall, and closed your eyes, beginning to accept your fate. Your tears immediately evaporated from the heat of the searing flames.

“Ma’am, you’re stubborn, you know that?” you heard a hard laugh from above.

You looked up to see Homelander flying a few feet above you with his hand reaching out only inches from you. He was acting so calm as if your building wasn’t about to come plummeting down.

You hesitated. Was this not your fate? Your life was boring, and you were just an aspiring book author with no children or significant other. You saved your sister. The pretty one, so she could raise her daughter.

No! Fuck that. You’re a fighter — a survivor. You have millions of stories to tell, this being one of them, and you’re damned sure you won’t be taken out this way.

You reach up and grab his hand. Before you could blink, you were outside safely on the ground near the other survivors.

“Sorry, if you’re a little discombobulated or nauseous,” Homelander apologized. “I had to move extremely fast to get you out of there.”

You shook your head no, searching the area for your sister and niece. He noticed.

“It’s okay; everyone is fine,” he tried to reassure you. Pointing to the medical area, he said: “they’re riiiight over there.”

You coughed and coughed as you ran toward them, not stopping until you embraced them in a hug.

“I’m so glad you two are safe,” you cried.

You made sure the medics had finished treating Amy and Sarah before tending to you. Surprisingly enough, besides a mild case of bronchitis, you were totally fine.

The residents of your building started to head to the nearby shelter. You stayed behind, looking at your once but now blackened home.

You assumed after everyone was safe, The Seven would’ve returned to Vought. You were wrong.

“Y’know, stubbornness can be a big personality flaw.” You didn’t have to turn around to know that voice. Homelander.

You turned to face your savior. “Lucky for me,” you said matter-of-factly. "I don’t care.”

“What you did was stupid,” his tone was more serious now. “You could’ve died back there.”

“They’re the only family I have,” you said. “I had to make sure they were safe.” You shrugged off the fact that you were once again talking back to the tremendous almighty Homelander.

He smirked. “How can a human be so reckless?”

It was rhetorical, but you couldn’t help responding, “when you love someone, you’re willing to do anything for them.''

He made a quizzical face as he was trying to process everything you just said. “Huh, is that so?”

You only nodded. You decided that it was the end of the conversation and turned to leave. You met back up with your sister at the shelter. Women took most of the beds with children. You happily accepted a mat on the floor right by your sister’s bed. Before you drifted off to sleep, you thought that you’d never forget the man who saved your life. Of course, he saves probably hundreds of lives every day, but for some reason, you felt like you two had a moment together. It felt like time had slowed down when he saved you.

Your new apartment had two large white window doors leading to your balcony. You never wanted to lock the window in case he showed up. Besides, if you ever had an intruder, he’d be there within an instant anyways.

Some nights when you didn’t have to work, you would wait on the balcony for him to fly down and kiss you. Sometimes he’d pick you up and take you on nightly flights across the city. You’d occasionally have to remind him he’s going too fast, and he’ll apologize and say he was too caught up in the moment with you.

You still wish you two didn’t have to sneak around at night to be together. One day, you’d say to yourself.

“You know what, fuck it?” he once said at the end of one of your nightly flights.

“Hmmm?” you responded as he made you two land on your balcony.

“Fuck the press, fuck Stillwell, fuck all of it.” You looked at him, confused as to what he was talking about. “I want to take you out on a real date. And not at some abandoned empty place. I want everyone to see you. See us .”

You were speechless. You always wanted this but never imagined it would ever happen. “B-But Stillwell won’t be happy,” you stuttered out.

“I don’t care about her happiness or Vought’s, only yours,” he said.

Once again, you weren’t sure of what to say. You only managed to get out a “Why?”

“Because,” he started. “When you love someone, you’re willing to do anything for them.'' He kissed you with as much passion as the first time.

You were still baffled that this was happening but smiled through it. “The annual Vought party is tomorrow night,” he said. With a kiss and another and another, he told you his goodbye. “I’ll pick you up at seven.”

[lyracarvahall]

HeartBeat Sync Part 9

Lay It All On The Table

Part 8 Here

TRIGGER WARNINGS: HEAVY PETTING, SUGGESTIVE LANGUAGE, DRY HUMPING

As the sunlight began to peek in through the hotel curtain and glared into Y/N's eyes, it startled her awake. Suddenly she realized how sore she was. As she attempted to move she realized she was trapped by a giant arm draped across her middle. Seeing the soul mark on the hand that was attached, she knew it was Yunho. Tuning in to the bond, she realized she could sense his individual connection if she thought about him.

Rolling over to face him, she realized he had moved them both from the couch to the bed as she had slept. Looking at his sleeping face, she saw a peaceful smile. Not wanting to disturb him, she attempted to slide out from his embrace quietly. However, when she attempted, the hand tightened on her hip and pulled her closer.

"Flying away so soon, angel?" Yunho's gravelly and deep sleepy voice vibrated through her chest. One of his coffee-colored eyes looked peeked open and looked down at her. He smirked. "Good morning."

As they lay in silence looking at one another, She could feel the love and lust down the bond and she knew she must have been sending the same to him because he was really hard to resist like this. Ruffled and sleepy, he looked so inviting.

Suddenly, her phone started buzzing rapidly.

"Let them talk. Where were we?"

As both her arms were trapped between their bodies, Y/N laid her hands flat against Yunho's abs. He let out a shuddering breath at the contact and his hand grabbed her ass out of reflex. Y/N released a small moan before she could stop herself. Running her hands up his abs and under his shirt until she reached his pecs, her nails lightly grazed his skin. Unable to resist her anymore, Yunho pulled Y/N into a scorching kiss.

The hand that laid across her ass ran down her thigh and pulled her leg up to wrap around his body. Their kisses became a clash of tongues and teeth as they could not get close enough to each other. Gripping Y/N's thigh, her began to guide her to grind against his hardening cock.

"Oh fuck! God you feel so good!" Yunho grunted as he started kissing her neck. "You are perfect. All these curves i can hold on to and....!"

Y/N gasped as she began to fall into the sensation of them coming together when...

BOOM BOOM BOOM!

"Wake up fuckers!" Mingi's deep voice echoed through the door.

Yunho grunted in frustration. "Come back later!" He continued to kiss his way down her body and began to nibble lightly on the top of her breast.

"If you don't open this door we are gonna start serenading your boning session. First up is gonna be a sexy rendition of Baby Shark!" Wooyoung pipes in.

"Fuck.....off!" Yunho shouted. Then he turned to Y/N and whispered while nibbling her ear. "They aren't going to quit, are they?"

"Problably not." Y/N giggled and blushed, totally embarrassed by the scene her soulmates were making in the hallway.

Y/N reluctantly pulled away (while Yunho grunted in frustration and make his way to the bathroom) and made her way to the door to let them in. As soon as she cracked the door open, the men all stampeded in and made their way to sit in various places in the room. A few of them eyed her with smirks on their faces and glaced over her disheveled state.

Yeosang gently embraced her. "Good morning sweetheart." The rest followed suit and took turns exchanging hugs and sweet kisses.

"Wait....where is Seonghwa?" Y/N seemed worried and upset.

San placed a hand on her shoulder. "Honey...did you not see the chat?" He looked at her with a look of pity.

"What are you talking about? What happened?" Y/N quickly grabbed her phone from the bed and flipped through the new messages.

Y/N began to tear up seeing that Seonghwa had left.

"What did I do wrong? I excluded him. He didn't feel wanted. I should have tried harder...I...." She collapsed to sit in the edge of her bed and put her head into her hands.

Hongjoong ran over and grabbed both of Y/N's wrists, gently pulling her hands off of her eyes. She felt the anxiety rising in the room, which only added to her own. "Look at me. Please, jagiya."

She reluctantly looked up into Hongjoong's gaze.

"Seonghwa is not mad at you. He... just expected things to go a certain way and they aren't now. He doesn't know how to process that. I know how it looks, but just know this is just something he needs to work out for himself."

Y/N sniffles and quietly nods in agreement. "Please just let him know he can talk to me whenever he is ready."

Hongjoong pats her knee gently and stands up to sit behind her on the bed and hug her. "I am sure he knows that baby. Now we need to start this meeting as we do have a tight schedule to keep. Everyone else seems accounted for....where is Lexi?"

"Oh shoot! I need to talk to her. One second." Y/N quickly pulls out her phone and starts messaging at insane speeds.

Jongho shouted "Hey!" Apparently he had snuck peeks of the conversation over her shoulder when Y/N wasn't looking.

"I gave her a little time so we could chat a bit first alone if that is alright?"

Hongjoong wrapped his arms around Y/N and nuzzled into her neck. "That is a good idea actually. There are a couple of things we need to discuss before she gets here. Firstly...did you want to tell her everything? About all of your soulmates? I remember how her reaction hurt you last time and I do NOT want to see you cry like that again."

The other members looked confused as to what he was talking about but seemed pissed at the mention of their girl crying.

"It should be okay Joong. She is starting to accept her own connection, even if it is just a little. She got soul sick from fighting it so hard. That is why you haven't seen her around. Liam took care of her and it helped calm it down."

"Wait...your best friend's soul bond is LIAM? That guy so professional and....stoic." Yunho mutters as he leans in the bathroom doorway.

"Yes. It is new and she doesn't want it but she is trying and knows the bond isn't his fault. Please don't be mad at her. There are...reasons she feels this way. Things I didn't even think about until now but they are not my business to tell."

"Ok, Y/N. I trust your judgement. I also have to ask her to sign an NDA. I know she is your best friend but legally she is not protected from backlash like you are. You have soul bond rights."

She had forgotten about that. Soul bond rights were legally binding. Once a soul bond is verified, it is seen as equivalent to marriage in the eyes of the law.

"We need to get verified. Oh god I didn't think about that."

"We can worry about that after tour. For now we need to get our schedule in general nailed down. I know Lexi may be upset we are asking her to do this but it is required to stay in the loop. I'm sorry."

"I get it. Bestie rights don't hold up in the court of law I guess."

The men in the room all chuckled. Just then, a light knock came from the room door once again.

San stood up to grab the door, signaling to Y/N to stay put and that he would take care of it. She nodded and admired how much of a gentleman he seemed to be. As he opened the door, a half asleep but still beautifully put together Lexi stood at the other side. Liam stoically stood behind her but she noticed it was closer than he had before. Lexi's eyes frantically stanned the room until she locked gazes with Y/N.

"Oh my god! Girly I am so glad to see you!" She took Y/N's hands in hers and gasped as she took in the marks across them. "Girl....you weren't kidding when you said there was a lot a lot, huh?"

Y/N giggled and looked around the space at her men, who all were watching her with fond smiles.

"Oh my god...all of them. Like ALL of them?! What the actual fuck?!" Lexi shouted but she didn't seem angry, more astounded.

"Yeah...I know. It is a lot. We are figuring it out a bit at a time, which is why we are having this meeting. There is a lot to go over."

"I would say so!" She stood and placed a hand on her hip. She was dressed in skinny jeans and a silky flowered blouse. Y/N began to feel under-dressed in the rumpled clothes she had never gotten to take off yesterday. Hongjoong, still sitting behind her, rubbed her back in reassurance.

Lexi took another look around the room and seemed to be doing a head count. "Wait, aren't you missing one?"

Y/N started to tear up again at the mention of Seonghwa's absence. Mingi stepped in to explain. "He hasn't tried to bond with her yet. He needs time."

Lexi nodded with sudden understanding. "I get that." She quickly glanced at Liam, who nodded with a slight smile on his face.

Y/N, wanting to change the topic, spoke up. "So should we start the meeting?"

Hongjoong kissed the top of Y/N's head and stood up. Shoulders back, it was evident in this moment why he is the leader.

"Okay, so as you can see this situation, though wonderful, did make things a little more complicated. I notified management of the bonds last night and they are coming up with the proper PR angles. For now, keeping up the appearance of staff may be best for Y/N's safety until we have a plan of action. Is that alright with you?"

"Of course. Whatever keeps you guys safe and your careers intact.I have to ask though, how am I going to work on the album if I am acting like security?"

"Valid question. You escort us into the building and once the studio closes, you are producer Y/N and not security Y/N."

Y/N giggles on how simple that concept is. "Sounds kinda fun, like I am a secret spy or something."

Everyone in the room chuckled.

"Next point, speaking of secrecy, is protecting this secret. Lexi, I know that this is a lot to ask of you and we don't really know you, but you are going to have to sign an NDA now that you know about us. This is to protect you as well as us. Is that something you can do?"

"Just tell me where to sign. I want to protect her just as much as you guys and have been her best friend half our lives. She knows I have her back and if I have to sign a piece of paper to do that, then so be it." Lexi came to sit down next to Y/N and put her arm across her shoulders.

Y/N smiled and put her head on Lexi's shoulder, so grateful to have her friend back. "Thank you Lexi. I owe you everything. Without you, I wouldn't even be here. I wouldn't have found them. I still disagree with your methods, but I cannot argue with the results."

Lexi cackled out loud, "I will now gladly say I told you so. No worries girl. Sorry for how I went about it but it worked, right? Just give me an album shoutout or somethin'." She threw her bestie a wink.

Hongjoong cleared his throat. Smiling at their antics, he continued. "Sorry to interrupt but we have to get going soon and we want to get this all on the table. Another thing is the verfication of the bonds. We need to wait until after the tour for two reasons. One, there is no time in the schedule for it. Two....I want to confirm one way or another with Seonghwa before we take a step like that."

"I understand." Y/N agreed sternly. "Plus I like the time to get to know each other out of the public eye first."

"Yeah...plenty of time for private sexy cuddle parties!" Wooyoung pipes in.

Jongho smacks Wooyoung's arm. "OW!"

"Aaaaaanyways, it will also give us time to complete the new album. I gave Eden your phone number so you could talk outside of social media. Some things need to be kept safe and private. Leaks are always a concern. I hope that is alright, Y/N"

"Oh of course!"

"Great. You guys can talk together and get this album put together. He seemed super excited for your concept but wouldn't tell me what it was. Hope to hear more soon. Well that is all the bases I had to cover. Anyone else have any concerns?"

Jongho politely raised his hand.

"Yes Jongho?"

"I know this seems minor compared to everything else, but how will we spend time getting to know Y/N if we are maintaining a cover? Will it just be at the studio and stuff? Or will there be..." He blushes furiously"...like dates and stuff."

"We will do our best to make time. There are a couple of days break here and there between stops."

Yeosang pipes in, "If we do dates and things like that, what do we tell the staff? What do they know?"

"Great question Yeosang. After a few of the staff witnessed Y/N's and I's bond, documents were immediately sent out to all of our tour staff. NDAs have all been signed as of this morning. Lexi's is the only one that remains."

With this, Lexi stands up and approaches Hongjoong. "Alrighty then. Where do I sign?"

Hongjoong pulls a folded set of papers that were crinkled in his back pocket and puts them on the table, quickly attempting to smooth out the wrinkles.

Lexi digs in her purse and pulls out a pen topped with a ball of pink feathers. After quickly scanning the document, she signs it and hands it back to Hongjoong. He looks over to where Liam is posted against the nearby wall. "You too buddy. You missed out on the mass employee signing yesterday but you were excused due to the soul bond."

Liam began to blush and cleared his throat. "Apologies sir." He lilted out in his musical Irish accent.

"No worries Liam. This has been a chaotic couple of days for all of us.."

With that Liam delicately pried the pen from Lexi's hand. She noticeably shivered as their fingers grazed. Liam hunched his tall and lanky frame over the little table and signed the document without reviewing it. With Lexi facing away from her, Y/N noticed the rainbow reflection from behind Lexi's left ear which branched to the base of her neck. She had had her hair down yesterday which is why Y/N had not noticed it. Liam's was much more noticeable with his shorter haircut now that she knew where to look.

Hongjoong clapped suddenly. startling everyone in the room.

"Alright everyone, now that that is done. meeting concluded. Let's get moving!"

PART 10 HERE

================================================

Thank you everyone for your support so far. Please feel free to leave comments and tell me what you think.

Taglist: @mrsminseochoi

[carnivalls]

good morning. thinking again of juve and her dog

[foxgirlmoth]

I think the night time was created to miss your wife when you don't live with her yet

[musingmycelium]

. noncoherent but also thoughts

[swordmaid]

in my hc the noble houses of menzoberranzan operate similarly to the houses in ice and fire where they’re constantly feuding with each other but instead of trying to take the throne/control of the whole realm they’re all fighting for lolth’s favour instead. and because they can’t outright declare war on each other (forgot the reason for why they can’t exactly do that but iirc lolth doesn’t like it?? she loves the drama I guess) and if they rise too quickly lolth casts them down so they have to be cunning about it. not to mention if they stay too long in power and do nothing about it that also displeases the spider queen so the nobility’s game of intrigue is constantly moving and working both for self gain and for self preservation.

shri’iia also plays the game but more of a pawn than a player. she’s not born from any noble house (she’s actually a commoner). the only reason why she has any foot in the game is that she’s taken in by the matriarch of faen tlabbar - one of the houses who fervently worships lolth to the point of zealotry - when they’ve heard word that she—a commoner—have managed to succeed lolth’s trials and gained her blessing. lolth blessings are rare to come and making someone a paladin is even more rare so for a zealot house, that’s a a sign they can’t pass up. so, the house matriarch takes her in and keeps in a tower where she’s supposed to pray and train to lolth day and night. the paladin oath that shri’iia swears is both for lolth and her matriarch; she swears to punish the enemies of her mistresses and forever keep her loyalty to them. her matriarch’s word is an extension to lolth’s will, so to disobey her will be disobeying lolth herself.

and ofc shri’iia being born poor with everything to give and nothing to lose, who thought that there is more to her life than a merchant’s daughter, to be known by the goddess she worship and noticed by one of the most influential houses in the city, swears herself to that oath. she never regretted that choice not even when she’s kept in that tower in complete isolation with her matriarch being the only person she could interact with.

[cherrysnax]

wahwahwah

[primofate]

Drop the towel wrapped around you and appear naked in front of your Genshin husband

In a nutshell: That old tiktok challenge/prank. In your private, shared home of course.

Warnings: My perpetual warning as a writing mother is that I am sleep deprived. Very VERY sleep deprived. SUGGESTIVE: BORDERING ON NOT SAFE FOR WORK, written on a 10 minute timer please be gentle

Characters: Aether, Albedo, Alhaitham, Ayato, Baizhu, Cyno, Diluc, Itto, Kaeya, Kaveh, Kazuha, Neuvillette, Scaramouche, Tartaglia, Tighnari, Wriothesley, Xiao, Zhongli, implied fem!reader

Personal Favourites: Tighnari

Aether

chokes on nothing

"Y-Y-Y/N?! What're you doing?"

Comes up to you and tries to cover you up with the towel again, as if it was a sin to look at you naked in broad daylight.

Full on blush on his face and respectfully tries to look away.

"Don't surprise me like that!"

Seems not to like it but actually likes it too much to the point of getting embarrassed for himself.

Yes he's your husband but is still a precious respectful man

Albedo

Blinks a couple of times but appreciates your beauty and gives your body a slow once over. Chuckles in amusement afterwards.

"Is there a reason for this?"

Just to get his reaction, you admit.

"Well..." starts walking towards you. "I do have higher self-control than most others... but let it be known that I'm far from immune to my..."

Stops in front of you and yet again seems to eat you up with his eyes. "...needs," ends with a suspiciously sweet smile.

Alhaitham

Can't help but be a bit surprised and you can see it by the way his eyebrows go up as soon as the towel hits the floor.

Opens his mouth to say something but closes it again, as if hesitating, which is really strange for someone like him.

"...Is this the part where I sweep you off your feet and carry you to our room?" there's a bit of amusement in his tone. Stands to walk over to you.

Places a hand on your waist.

"Cause I can guarantee you that we DON'T need to be in our bedroom for things to happen...but you knew that already, right?"

Ayato

Quirks his eyebrows up, amused smile appearing on his face.

"I must say, this is a lovely surprise,"

Traces your figure with his eyes. Then approaches you to hold your waist and dip in to kiss your neck softly.

"How could I ever resist, my love, when you're standing in front of me in all your magnificence?"

Takes the longest time just admiring and basking in your beauty, tracing every little part of your skin.

Baizhu

Lets pretend the snake ain't here okay?

Does a double take.

"Y/N, first off, you'll get a cold,"

Pushes his spectacles up and gives you a once over.

"Second, you'll give me a heart attack,"

Beckons you over gently with his hand. "Come over, I suppose it's been a while since...I've done a full body check,"

Hides a grin.

Cyno

Blankly looks at you and is still processing what is happening

"Y/N? Is this... Did I do something?"

Is so suspicious that this was some kind of trap.

You tell him its simply to get a reaction out of him.

Immediately shoots out of his seat and catches your wrist.

"Then...Is it my turn to get one out of you? There's several ways to do that...and I know your favourite ones,"

Diluc

Eyes follow the towel down to the floor and head snaps back up to blink at the sight in front of him. Recovers quickly.

Chuckles as he stands and walks over. Picks up the towel and drapes it around your shoulders. "Only because it's quite chilly tonight,"

but still ends up inching the towel off your shoulder, tracing your collarbone. "Although, as your husband, I suppose it IS my job to keep you warm... So how would you like it today, love?"

Itto

"WHOA!" by instinct covers his eyes with his hands but his fingers are actually splayed apart so he can totally see through the gaps

Feels himself getting aroused

I mean the guy gets turned on even just at the sight of your neck

Suddenly stands and walks over to you, easily hoists you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and makes a beeline to your shared room.

"You're asking for it Y/N!"

Kaeya

"Oho?"

Sits back and relaxes, he doesn't really know what he was expecting. Some type of show maybe. "What's this? Finally giving me that lap dance you owe me, snowflake?"

Laughs but you're incredibly flustered at the suggestion.

Beckons you over and grabs you by the waist to sit on his lap.

"Feel that?" he whispers in your ear.

Oh you feel it alright, pressing at your upper thigh.

"Now whose fault is that? You'll have to do something about it now, love,"

Kaveh

"Archons!"

Looks away with a blush on his cheeks.

"Put something on!"

Yes he's seen you naked before, you're married, but the guy's always flustered in unexpected events.

You provoke him further by coming over, sitting sideways on his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck.

"Y/N!" He looks down at you and can't help but look at your nakedness in full and close view.

Gulps but starts to feel his body heat up, his hands suddenly, assertively planting themselves on your waist as he meets your eyes. "I don't care what you say about yourself, but know that you're the only one who takes me from 0 to a 100 in a second,"

Kazuha

"Y/N?" Chuckles nervously and takes in the sight of your body.

Smiles at you and takes your hand to kiss the back of it.

"I've seen you countless of times... Each time, I'm reminded by how fortunate I am that you chose me to take care of you,"

Caresses your cheek all the way down to your jawline. "You're beautiful, Y/N,"

He has the most tender and gentle look on his face, but its mixed with a passion that you've never seen on anyone before. "Let me show you how much I love you, dear,"

Neuvillette

Eyebrows twitches upwards in surprise. Has no clue what to do in this new situation.

He doesn't say anything but is most definitely enjoying the view of your body. You see his jaw tense up, as if he's clenching his teeth.

"Ahem," he starts. Then seems to have the most trouble prying his eyes away to meet your gaze. "Is this...perhaps another way to tell me... that you would like some attention?"

You say not really and just wanted to see how he would react.

"Ah," he lets out, as if understanding and as if the conversation has ended.

A moment of silence passes and you're starting to wonder if that was all he was going to do. But he then stands and places a gentle hand on your bare waist. "...So you're simply doing it, as people would say, 'for fun'?"

He asks, and you say yes innocently. He smiles a bit and has another hand cupping your face and thumbing your lips. "I see," breathes out slowly.

"Unfortunately, for your actions, the Iudex feels that a punishment is in order,"

Scaramouche

Raises one eyebrow as if he's bored. Then smirks.

"If you wanted it, all you had to do was ask," pulls you by the waist and makes you straddle him "But this is good too,"

Hands actually start to grope you up and down. Will fondle and squeeze in private places immediately.

"What? Startin' to feel good? S'what you get when you play games with me,"

will smack your butt the first chance he gets

Tartaglia

Immediately jumps up and in an automatic daze, eyes glued to his favourite parts, trudges towards you and attempts to bury himself in softness.

You quickly stop him and in turn HE quickly stops you. Hands easily bunching your wrists up together and angling them upwards above your head.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk," he grins down at you. "Someone's being naughty,"

You complain that he reacts too fast.

Laughs, but his hand starts to unbuckle his pants and there's a dark look in his eyes. "Oh, I'm just being naughty back. When you want something, Y/N, believe it when I say I'll GIVE it to you,"

Tighnari

ear twitches. Tail swishes back and forth. Does not show any expression except slight curiosity.

"What's the occasion?"

You tell him that you just wanted to see his reaction.

He hums and nods slowly, like processing some type of complicated information.

"Wait here, I'll be back in a minute,"

You ask him where he's going and you're a bit upset at the lack of response from him.

He chuckles and returns to you, tail angling upwards in an attempt to wrap and brush against your waist. Takes your hand, presses your wrist against his lips and seems to take a slow breath in.

"I'm merely clearing off my schedule for today. Now, be patient, I'll be back,"

Wriothesley

Almost spits out his drink but gulps it all down instead.

Eyes widen a fraction at the sudden act but his hand is already loosening his tie.

"Wait right there precious," chuckles while he says this, tie already falling to the ground, now unbuttoning his vest. At the same time walks over to you urgently as if you're going to disappear but laughs nervously while he's at it.

"I swear you'll be the death of me,"

Looks like he's going to pounce on you but when he reaches you he only gives you a chaste kiss, as if asking for permission first.

You suddenly remind him that he has a LOT of things to do today, appointments and all.

Actually barks out a quick laugh. "You're not really expecting me to walk out now? As far as I'm concerned," pulls you flush against him and kisses your jaw "The only thing I need to do today is you,"

Xiao

"Wh-Wh-What do you think you're doing?!"

caught unprepared. Crosses his arms and looks away. Pretends he's uninterested but his eyes still dart back to look at you.

You ask him if he likes what he sees.

He now completely looks away from you. A few seconds pass and when he turns his head back to look at you there's now a carnal look in his eyes.

He walks towards you slowly and captures your chin to tilt it up. Looks down at you as if he hasn't eaten a meal in days.

"...When I'm done with you tonight you'll get your answer,"

Zhongli

Chuckles. Amused.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, dear?"

You shrug and even do a turn for him. He watches you carefully and takes in the image in front of him.

Smiles and strides over towards you. "Truly a magnificent sight," brushes his fingers against your neck

His eyes trail downwards and isn't shy about looking at your body. "Might I remind you my dear, my stamina surpasses that of a normal human," he smiles at you sincerely.

You tell him that you're well aware. He just chuckles again.

"Then you know well what'll come next,"

End

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[mahgyu]

──── In the beginning of your relationship, you learned that Satoru was the type who liked to sleep cuddling. Before meeting you, Satoru used to sleep hugging a pillow, even. It wasn't exactly a necessity for him, but just something he liked and that made him fall asleep faster. You, on the other hand, weren't exactly that type.

Hugs before sleeping? Perfect. Having someone on top of you while trying to sleep? Not so perfect. Fortunately, the two of you reached an agreement about that.

But sometimes, like today, Satoru was extremely clingy. He was sleeping deeply, with his body completely on top of yours, his face buried in the curve of your neck, and a leg trapped between yours.

You loved holding him that way, having the strongest man you had ever known so vulnerable curled up in your arms and sleeping peacefully. Satoru slept heavily when he felt that comfortable, and the deeper he slept, the heavier he became on you. As mentioned, your boyfriend is a strong guy, so now it was almost uncomfortable for you.

You feel this pressure against your chest as he rests on you, completely at ease. You thought that maybe, if you tried hard enough, you could fall asleep, but no, it’s not possible.

"Baby..." You whisper, hoping it will be enough to wake him, but he just keeps snoring, each snore reverberating through your body.

"Toru...?" You try again, a little louder.

"SATORU!" Still nothing. He barely moves a bit in his sleep, letting out a particularly loud snore.

OK. Plan B. If you can't get him off, it's time to slide down. Only after two unsuccessful attempts, you somehow manage to do it, taking a big breath as you escape. You haven't even fully turned to the side when Satoru wakes up, confused and abandoned, with the source of warmth under him gone. He moves his hand aimlessly over the sheets until he feels you.

"Where are you going?" He murmurs sleepily, moving closer to you. "No..." A heavy arm wraps around you, pulling you back to him with ease. There’s a soft hum as he feels your body fit into his.

"Toru?" You call him sweetly. "You know I can't sleep like this, hmm? Come on." You pat his arm, signaling for him to let you go.

Satoru doesn't move. Instead, he just makes some whiny sounds before rubbing his face in your hair.

"Come on, let me go, please?" More pleading.

"Nuh-uh, I don't want to." He whines. "Hug me." He pouts, looking so needy and neglected.

"Love, you're acting like a baby" You complain.

"Because I am. I'm your baby!" He says defiantly. "So, you should treat me like one."

At this point, you know it won't help to try to convince him when he's in this mood. You sigh, deciding to give up and give in.

About five minutes pass in complete silence and then Satoru quietly asks: "You really can't sleep?" The thought of this now bothers him. How could he relax knowing that you're not even comfortable?

"Mhm" You respond as he pulls separates from you.

"OK, I'll give up the hug time for you!" He sighs, rolling away from you dramatically. A few minutes later, he sighs again, a bit louder.

This is his cue to tell you that you should give in and cuddle with him. But you can't, having finally found a position that relaxes all the right places in your body, perfect for falling asleep.

"Are you really going to leave me abandoned?" His voice is so stupidly captivating that it makes you melt. You can't say no to that.

Satoru smiles when he hears the rustling of the sheets, your body moving toward him.

With open arms, he welcomes you back as you rest your head on his chest. "I think I can sleep like this..." You admit as he smiles, making sure you're comfortable but still wrapped up in him.

Hiii, long time no see, uh? 👀This time I brought something cute, a thought I had because I've been feeling so needy and missing our Gojo😞

(It is not well corrected, please ignore any possible mistakes.)

Your interaction is very important to me, reblogs and comments are always welcome. 🫶🏻💕

⠀

[mohammedaldeeb]

A Humanitarian Appeal from the Depths of Suffering🥹:

The War on Gaza, Our Losses, and the Struggles We Endure

In these difficult and painful times😔, I find it hard to find words that truly express the depth of the suffering I, 💔😓

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Today, as I face this immense struggle😔,

I turn to you, dear reader, with a plea for help🙏🏻😥.

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Every donation, no matter how small, will make a difference.

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I humbly ask you to help me spread this story. Share this story with your friends, family, and networks. Let it reach those who have the means and the will to help🥹🥺❤️.

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I will forever be grateful for any assistance you can provide, whether it’s a financial contribution, sharing this story, or offering a kind word of encouragement.

Your help will give us the strength to continue, and it will remind us that in the midst of all this suffering, there is still hope, there is still kindness, and there are still people who care😃❤️.

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Together, we can create a future where we can live with dignity, rebuild what has been lost😔, and give our children the hope they deserve💝🥹🙏🏻.

Solidarity is Hope, and Helping is Life💚❤️💛🖤🇵🇸 .

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