#I mean yes they speak in the first person but

[heyimkana]

guildmaster!jinwoo and secretary!reader?????? omg kana you’re feeding us THANK YOUUUU😭😭😭🫶

being his secretary means coming along with him and the ahjin guild to the international guild conferences. imagine all the high ranking hunters around the world have their attention on him—his presence practically exudes power and immeasurable amounts of mana, it’s no surprise that he immediately draws all eyes in the room. but the hunters can’t help but notice “that pretty thing” walking alongside him, their eyes inevitably straying towards you for far longer than jinwoo would like. cue possessive!guildmaster!jinwoo 🫢

OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD YES OKAY IMAGINE THIS

WC: 1,4K | Warnings: sex, swearing | Continuation from this

Let's say the international conference happened a week after they had sex for the first time.

So, they went to another country together, not getting the chance to talk much because people always surrounded him. That day when Jinwoo kissed and made love to you in his private office... As wonderful and passionate as it was, it only happened one time. He had been very busy with his schedules after that, so you had no chance to speak privately with him.

Through your eyes, with how he kept his demeanor nonchalant and reserved, you assumed he had no interest in taking the relationship to the next step. You had also been too afraid to ask him about your status since... Well, he was a national-level hunter, and you were nothing, not even a hunter. You were just a normal person—a nobody.

Surely, he wouldn't want to be in a relationship with someone like me.

You didn't know that the real reason why Jinwoo never asked you out was because he didn't wish to make you a target for having a special relationship with him. He couldn't risk it, not after what happened with Jinho. He decided it was better if your relationship with him stayed strictly business, no matter how much he wanted to hold you, take care of you, and love you the way a lover would.

You could still feel his eyes on you every now and then, and sometimes he smiled a little softer than usual when he thanked you for your assistance, as if seeing you stand so close to him but could never be entirely his melted and broke his heart at the same time. You didn't think too much of it, though. You told yourself not to.

After the conference ended, you returned to the hotel you had reserved for the night. You escorted him back to his room, helping him carry over the documents. Jinwoo had been quiet for a while, though you weren't sure why. You wondered if he was exhausted. After all, he was never fond of long meetings, and that conference took the entire day. You were worried about him, but... There was nothing you could do. You were just his secretary, never his lover.

"Take your rest, Mr. Sung," you said, maintaining your perfect formality even when it was only the two of you then. "I'm sure you're exhausted. I will be in my room next door should you need me. Good night."

You pivoted on your heels, making your way outside, but the second you stepped into the hallway, his fingers caught your wrist, yanking you back into the room. He slammed the door shut and pinned you against the door, his torso pressed flushed against your back, his fingers splayed at the front of your throat as his mouth latched hotly on your neck.

His heart was pounding, fueled by desire and frustration, while yours beat in the exhilaration of finally having his hands on you again. After enduring a day of watching other hunters leer and ogle at you, Jinwoo couldn't hold back any longer. He needed you, and he needed you then. His large hand seized your hip, pulling you even closer, his grip firm and possessive. His control slipped away, his desire for you taking over.

"M-Mr. Sung, what—"

"Don't call me that," he said, almost in a low growl. His lips found your earlobe, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin as he spoke. "I want to hear my name on your lips. No 'Mr. Sung', no formalities."

You shivered, "J-Jinwoo..."

"Fuck." He angled your face to the side, kissing you so roughly, breathlessly, consuming enough to make your legs grow weak. He pressed you further against the wall, his bulge pressing hotly against your behind, his palm sliding underneath your blouse, tightly kneading your breast. "You don't know what you do to me, do you?"

"Jinwoo, what..." Your breathing started to tatter. "What are you doing?" You were confused. You thought he didn't want anything to do with you anymore.

His breath was hot against your ear, his voice gruff and filled with need. "What does it look like I'm doing, Sweetheart?" He placed a gentle yet passionate kiss on the junction between your neck and shoulder.

“You… I don’t know..." You chew on your lip to restrain your moans. "You seem... angry.”

"Damn right, I'm angry," he let out a low grumble, his grip on your hip tightening, nails digging into the skin. "Do you know how many men were staring at you during that conference? I could barely focus on the damn meeting."

He pushed up your skirt to your waist with one hand while the other applied pressure on the spot between your shoulder blades. You bent forward the way he commanded you to, clawing against the door as Jinwoo gripped your hip and guided your ass toward him, his zipper teasing your lingerie, his lip bitten at the sensation of his bulge grinding against your behind.

"Every time a man looked at you and smiled," he leaned forward, his teeth grazing your shoulder. "I wanted to wring his goddamn neck. You looked too fucking good, and they were all looking at you like you were some piece of meat. It took everything I had not to go over and punch someone in the face."

He meant his every word, and it sent quivers down your body. You'd never thought someone as composed as Sung Jinwoo could lose his composure like this—all because of you.

You needed him terribly, your body aching for him that you started pushing back, giving him the message for him to do as he pleased.

"Seeing them all looking at you... touching you..." He took off his belt with one hand, tossing it to the side. "God, I wanted to grab you and mark you as mine right then and there."

He pushed his pants low enough just for his hard, leaking cock to break free. "You're mine, aren't you, Angel?" He rubbed his tip against your entrance, his own breathing jagged. His hand slithered to your neck, framing your face as he took the shell of your ear between his teeth. "No one can have you but me, right?"

"Y-yes," you shut your eyes close, wanting him to be as close as possible, to be as deep as possible. "Jin, please—"

"Say that you're mine."

The dominance, the possessiveness in his tone nearly petrified you. "I'm yours—" You barely finished your line when he thrust inside, deep and hard, pushing all his length in one drive of his hips. It burned in all the right ways, your walls stretched and used, molded into his shape. You choked on your breath, your fingers clenching into fists as you tried to balance yourself.

"Again," he demanded, one hand pinning your wrist against the door while the other held you still by the hip. "Tell me who you belong to."

"Y-you—ah—" One sudden thrust made you fall forward, your body pressed flat against the door with his cock sliding in and out. He was fucking his anger and frustration into you, every pound of his hips was a testament to the control he had over you. It felt so good, so raw, so feral, and you found yourself sobbing out his name in pleasure.

"I think I've changed my mind," Jinwoo said breathlessly, one hand hooked around your thigh, lifting your leg to give him more access, to bury himself deeper inside. "I'm going to let everyone know that you're mine. I'll take the risk. I'll keep you with me at all times. I'll protect you no matter what it takes, even if it means putting my life on the line. I'll show the whole fucking world that you belong to me."

The thrill of being owned by a man who could have anything—anyone—in the universe, sent you to the edge. "Jinwoo, I'm—I'm close—"

He held you tight against him, his hips rocking erratically against yours. "Come for me, Angel." And as you let yourself go, your body weak in his arms, your mind reeling in the afterglow, Jinwoo kissed your cheek, his touch soothing compared to how he used you just a second ago.

"I'll never let you go," he whispered, embracing you close. "You're mine to protect, mine to claim, mine to possess. Don't ever forget that."

His fingers tightened around your throat, far from hurting but enough to assert his power over you. And through gritted teeth, he said—

[uncuredturkeybacon]

𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚏𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 || 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚐𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚎𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

in which paige is a nervous wreck

you’ve known paige bueckers for years.

known her game, her favorite gummy snacks, her pre-practice playlists, the way her eyes light up when she talks about basketball, and the way they soften when she looks at you. you’ve known her in every way a person can be known—on the court, off it, during tough losses and quiet victories.

and you’ve been dating her for nearly four years.

so when she starts acting weird—like, real weird—you’re confused. not “she misplaced her socks again” weird. not “she spent twenty minutes looking for her phone while it was in her hand” weird. no. this is a whole other level.

paige bueckers won’t look you in the eye.

not once during practice. not when you handed her the water bottle, not when you passed her a perfect bounce-pass in transition, not even when you hit a step-back three and turned to wink at her like always.

nothing. she flushed bright red and turned the other way.

you notice the way her voice stutters every time she speaks around you too.

“y-yeah, uh, good pass,” she mutters when you catch up to her in a fast break. "y-you look g-g—good, today,” she says like it physically hurts. and when you bump her hip and joke, “you alright, bueckers?” she just about implodes.

her teammates definitely notice.

“oh my god, she’s malfunctioning,” nika whispers dramatically during a water break, pointing a finger in your direction like you’re medusa and paige is slowly turning to stone.

“hey, coach, we might need to sub in a new point guard,” aubrey jokes. “this one’s lost all motor functions.”

even coach geno gets in on it. “you get hit in the head, paige?” he asks mid-practice when she completely misses a wide-open layup. “or are you just lovesick?”

laughter erupts in the gym.

you try to be gentle with her. she’s your girlfriend, after all. you’ve spent years memorizing every inch of her — every curve of her smile, every freckle she tries to pretend she doesn't have. you know she can be shy sometimes, but this? this is like first-crush-level nervousness.

and the worst part?

she’s not telling you anything.

that night, after another long, unusually awkward practice and enough teasing to last a lifetime, you corner her in your shared apartment.

she’s curled up on the couch, hoodie too big and pulled halfway over her face, like she’s hiding. her knees are tucked to her chest, and her phone is face down on the blanket beside her. she looks up when you walk in, then immediately looks back down.

“okay,” you say, arms crossed. “what’s going on with you?”

she gulps. “wh-what do you mean?”

you raise an eyebrow, stepping closer. “you’ve been acting like i’m gonna murder you every time i get within three feet of you.”

“no, i haven’t—”

“babe, you stuttered when i offered you a sip of gatorade today.”

“i-i just—maybe it was too cold—”

“paige.”

she freezes. you sit down next to her. she fidgets with the sleeves of her hoodie, fingers nervously twisting the fabric. you don’t say anything for a moment, waiting.

finally, she blurts:

“i wanted to ask you out on a date.”

you blink. “what?”

she finally meets your eyes, cheeks pink. “i wanted to ask you out. like, properly. like, a date. i was gonna do this cute thing with flowers and that coffee place you like and—yeah.”

you stare at her. then you start laughing.

paige looks like you just slapped her.

“i’m serious!” she insists, defensive and adorable. “i—i got nervous! i didn’t know how to bring it up! and then everyone was making fun of me, and you looked so—so good—and—”

“paige.”

“what?” she mumbles, looking away again.

“we’re already dating.”

she pauses. blinks.

“wait. what?”

you’re still laughing, hand on her thigh, thumb rubbing slow circles. “you asked me out four years ago, remember? after that summer league tournament. i wore that stupid neon headband, and you said i looked like a traffic cone.”

paige’s jaw drops. “oh my god.”

“i said yes, by the way. in case you forgot.”

she covers her face with both hands. “kill me. kill me now.”

you grin, pulling her hands away gently. “why the sudden nerves, bueckers?”

she groans. “i don’t know! i just… sometimes you walk into a room and i feel like i’m seventeen again and you don’t know i exist and i’m terrified you’ll say no.”

you melt.

“oh, baby.”

you crawl into her lap, straddling her, hands resting on her shoulders. her eyes flick up, just barely, and you can see how flustered she still is.

“you’ve got me,” you whisper. “you’ve had me. you don’t have to ask again.”

she exhales, head falling back against the couch. “okay, good. 'cause i was literally sweating all through practice.”

you giggle and lean forward, kissing her forehead. “you’re such a dork.”

“but i’m your dork.”

you kiss her properly then, soft and slow, until she relaxes into your touch.

the next day at practice, paige walks in looking smug and satisfied, hand held tightly in yours.

the teasing explodes.

“oh look!” nika calls out. “she remembered they’re dating!”

“was the amnesia temporary or…?”

“someone call the ncaa, paige finally made a shot without combusting.”

even geno claps sarcastically when she nails her first three-pointer.

“glad to see your motor functions returned, bueckers. maybe next practice you can remember your girlfriend lives with you.”

you lean in and whisper, “you’ll never live this down.”

paige groans, face buried in your shoulder.

but you both know the truth.

she might act like she’s still trying to win you over—but that’s the thing about paige bueckers. she falls for you every day like it’s the first time.

and you love her all the more for it.

[softlypossessive]

Hello! I hope you’ve been having a great day. I was wondering if I could request a strawhat x mute!reader. The reader has selective mutism, meaning she gets anxiety speaking to people in certain situations. When she does speak, which would be rare, it’s only when it’s just her and her crew. If she was in public she and had to say something she would whisper directly in their ear, otherwise she wouldn’t speak. The relationship could be either platonic or romantic, either is fine. I was wondering how would the strawhats react to their mute member being in a situation where pirates of a different crew surrounds and antagonizes her, trying to get her to speak to them. Also, may I ask that you not make the reader meek and defenseless? While she does feel anxiety when she’s in a situation where she has to speak to people, she’s not an overall anxious and docile person.

♡･ﾟ𓏸 All Strawhats x Selectively Mute!Reader Headcanons 𓏸･ﾟ♡

♡ Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Usopp, Nami, Robin, Franky, Jinbe, Brook, Chopper, gn!reader ♡ Warnings: Fluff, Soft protectiveness, mutual understanding, SFW, platonic, romantic if you squint?? mentions of selective mutism, quiet affirmations, crew-wide affection, no use of Y/N, ♡ Notes: Thank you so much for the request! I really hope I did it justice <3 I went with a full crew interpretation (since it’s SFW) and leaned into that strong, warm platonic love—though if you squint, a few bits might read a lil more intimate. But overall? This crew would go to war for you, no questions asked. Not spicy, just full of love and loyalty.

𓏸⋆｡˚☁️˚｡⋆𓏸

🍖 Luffy

At first, Luffy doesn’t get it.

“Why don’t you talk to them? Are they stupid?” (Yes, Luffy. Yes, they are.)

But the moment it clicks—that your silence isn’t a weakness but a boundary—he respects it with his whole chest

He never pressures you to speak. Like, ever. He doesn’t even notice you don’t talk half the time because he just vibes with your presence

You're still his crewmate, still part of the adventure, still cool as hell in his book

When you do whisper to him? Man lights up like a SUNRISE

“WAAAH YOU TALKED TO ME!!!”

Cue excitement. He treasures those moments

He absolutely throws hands if anyone tries to mock or push you into speaking.

No hesitation.

One second of antagonizing you = rubber punch to the jaw

Thinks your ability to stand silent and still in chaos is scary cool

"You don't need words to be strong. I can feel it. You're STRONG."

⚔️ Zoro

Completely unbothered by your silence—he’s not exactly chatty either

You two could sit in silence for three hours and that’s a perfect conversation to him

He clocks your selective mutism immediately and never asks questions you don’t want to answer

If you whisper something in his ear in public, he listens like it’s sacred scripture

He’s incredibly protective—not because he thinks you’re weak, but because he hates people who mistake quiet for easy prey

The moment someone tries to force words out of you? Zoro’s sword is already out

“You really think pressure makes people talk? Try bleeding first. Then we’ll compare notes.”

He absolutely respects that your silence is a form of control, not submission

Will stand at your shoulder like a silent wall of steel until you nod it’s okay to move

🍳 Sanji

Sanji is a soft king when it comes to your comfort

Doesn’t just “accept” your mutism—he adapts to it

Develops a whole love language around your silences: gestures, hand squeezes, looks, shared glances over food

If you whisper in his ear in public? He goes red every time no matter what you said

Treats your rare spoken words like poetry.

"Your voice... I could die happy now."

But if anyone dares try to “make you speak,” he’s fury on legs

“If you wanted a conversation, you should’ve kept your tongue attached.”

Elegant fury. Fires the first kick. Lights a cigarette after the last one drops

Thinks your silence adds to your mystique and honestly simps hard for it

“They don’t need to talk, idiot. They’re already unforgettable.”

🛠️ Usopp

Understands your selective mutism right away—relates through his own anxiety

Never makes it a big deal, just accepts it as part of who you are

Acts as your unofficial hype man 24/7

Narrates your silence like it’s legendary

“My friend here? Silent assassin. Writes poetry. Could kill you in three moves. Show some respect.”

Gets so excited whenever you whisper to him

“THEY SAID SOMETHING TO ME. PERSONALLY. ME.”

Makes little gadgets to help you communicate—flip signs, buttons, visual cues

If anyone mocks or pressures you to speak, he steps up immediately

Starts going off in a fiery, ridiculous, clearly-exaggerated monologue about how you’re a silent warrior who once stared down a sea king until it cried.

“You’re really gonna push someone who could take you out with one look?”

Absolutely nervous but still defends you—protective even when shaking

Later brags about it like he was chill the whole time

Thinks your silence is mysterious, heroic, and honestly? Very cool

🍊 Nami

Notices your mutism instantly and adjusts without missing a beat

Communicates with subtle cues: touch, eye contact, quiet words

Always leans in when you whisper, gives you her full attention

Becomes your translator in crowds, sharp and effective

“They said back off. Before I make you.”

If someone tries to force you to talk, she doesn’t hold back

Fights with sass, smarts, and no mercy—protects you because you’re strong, not in spite of it

Never treats you like a problem to fix

Calls your mutism a boundary, not a flaw

Gets genuinely touched when you whisper something soft to her

“Only the right people get to hear that voice.”

Thinks you’re powerful in your silence—deadly, beautiful, and fierce

📚 Robin

Understands without needing it explained—she’s lived through silence herself

Views your selective mutism as deliberate, powerful, elegant

You’re not “mute” to her—you’re discerning. And that makes you brilliant in her book.

She’s very observant.

Not only does she notice the exact kinds of situations that make you shut down, she preemptively handles them.

Like casually standing next to you in crowds. Leaning in so you can whisper without stress. Ordering your drink without being asked.

You two become silent duo queens, communicating entire conversations with eye contact and head tilts

But when you’re surrounded, alone, and pirates are sneering in your face?

One of them laughs, “They mute or just stupid?”

Six arms bloom from the stone walls and grab all of them by the throat.

Robin walks up, smiling politely.

“It seems you’re the stupid ones.”

She looks to you and tilts her head.

“Would you like me to break their arms or their egos?”

You murmur a single word

“Egos.”

She smiles wider.

Later, you slip her a note with a tiny sketch of her stepping on the pirate’s face. She folds it into her book like a pressed flower.

🔧 Franky

Thought you were just “cool and mysterious” at first—didn’t realize your silence was tied to selective mutism

When he does figure it out? Immediate SUPER™ respect

Doesn’t try to make you talk—just makes sure you always feel welcome in the workshop

Builds you custom tools or a gadget to help if you want to communicate in crowded places—only if you’re into it

“You don’t gotta say a thing, dude. You just being here is already awesome!”

Treats your rare spoken words like a backstage VIP pass

Will absolutely body block anyone who corners you or tries to force you to speak

If someone mocks you? Cue cyborg intimidation mode

“Real strength ain’t about talkin’. It’s about doin’. And you? You’ve got that in spades.”

Loves hearing you whisper in his ear in public.

Instantly salutes.

“COMMAND RECEIVED!!”

Thinks your silence adds mystery and badassery—he’s kind of obsessed tbh

“You’re like… like a silent laser beam! Precise! Lethal! SUPER!!”

🌊 Jinbe

Understands immediately—doesn’t need an explanation

Has deep emotional intelligence and respects boundaries like a king

Offers quiet companionship when you need it, never pressuring conversation

Has an entire repertoire of gentle nods and thoughtful glances for when words aren’t needed

If you whisper to him, he leans in with the patience of a mountain

“You do not need to speak to be heard.”

Would stand calmly beside you if you're being antagonized—silent, unmoving, radiating “Try me.” energy

If someone pushes you to talk? He won’t raise his voice—but he will command the entire room’s attention

“If your ears are so desperate for sound, perhaps you should listen to your own foolishness.”

He believes your silence holds weight—calls it “the stillness before a wave”

Deeply respects how you fight without words—calls it “an elegant form of strength”

Makes sure the crew understands your boundaries without ever making a fuss of it

Absolute guardian energy, with the soul of a poet

🎻 Brook

Surprisingly intuitive about your silence despite being loud himself

Doesn’t ask invasive questions—just rolls with it, happily filling silences with songs or stories

Makes gentle jokes to ease tension but always watches your cues

“Ah, you didn’t laugh out loud, but I saw that smile! Yohohoho!”

If you whisper something in public? Dramatic swoon every time

“A private word?! For me?! Oh my heart—wait, I don’t have one!! Yohoho!”

He absolutely writes songs about you—like full orchestral ballads of silent bravery

Believes your silence is poetic and meaningful

“Some voices are loudest without sound.”

If someone antagonizes you? Brook’s polite tone goes cold

“Your disrespect will not go unnoticed, even by one without eyes.”

cue chill-inducing violin chord

Protects you through unexpected intimidation—he’s goofy until he isn’t

Thinks your energy is ghostly and powerful in a way he deeply respects

Refers to you as “the whisper between storms” in one of his songs

🧸 Chopper

Soooo gentle and sweet with you from day one

Was nervous at first like

“Did I do something wrong? Why don’t they talk to me?”

But once he understands, he’s all in: brings you tea, sits nearby while you write, never pressures you

“You don’t have to talk. I still know you like me, right?”

Will make you little cue cards or cute picture communication tools if you want help in public

If you whisper to him, he melts.

“AHHH THEY TALKED TO ME! I MEAN—I’M COOL. I’M NORMAL.”

If someone bullies you or gets pushy?

Normally sweet Chopper goes feral mode

“BACK OFF! YOU DON’T GET TO DECIDE HOW THEY TALK!”

Will patch you up after fights and praise how you held your own, even without words

“You’re one of the strongest people I know… You don’t even need a voice to be amazing!”

Lowkey keeps a medical log of when you speak or interact more—only to make sure you’re doing okay mentally

Feels extra close to you because you both were misunderstood at first

♡｡ﾟ☁︎｡♡ﾟ

You were only gone five minutes.

Five minutes to run down the street and grab new ink, maybe peek into the bookstore. Five minutes away from the crew.

Apparently, that was enough.

They came out of nowhere—half a dozen rough-looking pirates, loud and posturing. One of them stepped in front of you as you turned to leave.

"Oi, sweetheart. Why so quiet?"

You didn’t respond.

"Too good to talk to us?" "Or maybe you think you're better?" "C’mon, just say hi." "We don’t bite… much.”

They leaned in. Circling. Testing.

You stared them down, face flat, spine straight, hand hovering near your weapon—but still, you said nothing. You didn’t owe them a damn word.

And that’s when the sound of boots hit the street behind you.

Not loud. Not rushed. But deliberate.

Zoro was the first. Leaning against the alley wall like he’d been there the whole time. He didn’t draw a sword. He didn’t need to.

Sanji stepped up next, cracking his knuckles with a smile that didn't touch his eyes. Smoke curled from the edge of his lips.

Nami lingered behind them, arms crossed, watching. Sharp gaze narrowed. Robin’s shadow moved just beside hers—subtle, but present. You could feel it.

And then there was Luffy.

No drama. No yelling. He just appeared beside you, hands in his pockets, staring straight at the loudest one.

They all paused, instincts kicking in. A shift in the air.

“…This your crew?” one of them asked, voice suddenly less cocky.

You leaned in close to Luffy’s ear, barely a breath.

"I didn’t need help."

He grinned. "I know."

Silence again. Until he tilted his head, smile gone now.

"I just didn’t like the way they talked to you."

That was it.

That was all it took.

The men backed off. Fast. No fight. Just the weight of the crew’s presence and Luffy’s quiet fury pressing down on them like a stormcloud. They knew better.

As they vanished down the street, Luffy turned to you, still smiling—loose and easy like nothing had happened.

You sighed and bumped your shoulder against his in thanks. He bumped back.

Zoro huffed a quiet breath, like he’d been hoping for action. Sanji smoothed his jacket, still glaring at the retreating pirates. Chopper poked your arm, worried, but you just gave him a nod.

The crew didn’t make a big deal of it.

No lectures. No questions.

Just a warm space carved out around you.

Safe. Quiet. Yours.

Because you didn’t need words for them to hear you.

And they didn’t need words to say “We’ve got your back.”

𓏸⋆｡˚☁️˚｡⋆𓏸

[pinkaditty]

Love Type (Tokyo Debunker Ghouls)

hey me again i said id be back quickly and i did mean that.

this will have been queued for an hour at least by the time u see it. rn as i type this im debating using the taglist. i think ill use it. sorry 4 so many tags in a day, i bet ur sick of me

anyways! i had this idea while i was writing the perv!sho x reader thing. i thought about the differences between the ghouls and how they all love differently. at first i wasn't gonna post this, but then my brain wouldn't stop thinking about it so now this exists. its not meant 2 be a useful organization tool 4 the ghouls it's just something i had a little bit of fun with.

note that not every single ghoul is going 2 match the category he was put in exactly. for example, ghouls like luca, yuri, romeo, and even haru could probably fit in more than one of these categories, but i put them in the ones i thought suited them best. wanna discuss? leave a comment or an ask! ill be happy 2 talk it through with u <3.

yes i DID put in hcs about how long they last sexually. no i do NOT regret it. im speaking my TRUTH!!!

The Lover Boys:

Haku, Haru, Sho, Luca, Zenji, Rui

do not last long but recover fast and can go multiple rounds 

prefer switching up their roles (dom→sub, sub→dom) more often 

they love like it's an incurable chronic terminal disease. it's never leaving them.

all-consuming, takes up most their time, they're drowning and falling and losing their minds 4 u

You like to tell yourself you're prepared, but is that ever really true? No, not really. The way his voice drops several octaves into a low purr just from seeing you should've been warning enough as to what you were in for. You didn't expect the all-consuming, suffocating love he'd trapped you in, but were you really complaining? As far as you were concerned, you were also convinced it was meant to be, and if he was a little crazy about it, that was a small price to pay. Of course, you eventually learn why he's crazy about it - he's never had it. The truest feeling of connection, the ability to just let it all go in one person's presence, the time to really feel another person. It's eluded him for so long, and now he has it, but it's threatened by a curse, something he cannot control. It's frightening, and though he tried not to, he ultimately buries you in his love, trying to find a way to make it last. It's okay though. As the threat wanes, so will his suffocation. The love will always be intense, but he will learn how to do it right. 

The Lost Boys:

Towa, Taiga, Jiro, Ed

they last so unbelievably long u don't know how they do it

love in more subtle ways bc 2 them, true love is quiet 

they will do loud and bold professions of it, but the real love is displayed quietly 

prefer 2 stick 2 one role (either dom or sub), not super flexible 

The occasional huge flower bouquet, expensive jewelry set, or new bag were thoughtful, but mostly just for show. He reveled in the attention, the jealous stares, the sucking of teeth, the eye rolls - all of it. Because he had you, not them. But that, of course, isn't all there is to it. While he may be relatively distant in public despite the extravagant gifts, he's rather sweet and attentive in private. He hides it better than a LoverBoy, but in truth, his heart bleeds just like theirs, and he feels the need to consistently strive to win your affections. You're amongst great people, after all. How can he make sure he stands out, all the time, just for you? You understand this, of course, and you're always quick to reassure him. He will give and give and give and give, in so many ways. You almost think he's bottomless, what with how much of himself he offers up, nearly all the time. But it's alright. He will learn to remind himself that he need not give himself away to bits simply to keep your attention, especially when he's already the apple of your eye. The gifts never stop though, and neither does his obvious enjoyment in the attention it gets you. He will never stop showing you off.

The Tragic Boys:

Leo, Subaru, Ren, Kaito, Yuri

love fluctuates. intense then quiet, hot then cold, all-consuming then insignificant 

very transparent ghouls with few layers. what u see is what u get.

often don't last long and take longer to recover 

a little more flexible with role changing, but do have solid preferences 

You are never, ever prepared. He's like a pendulum, swaying back and forth between endless, bountiful devotion and a cold shoulder the following day. He's not sure how to handle this love he has for you. It's unfamiliar, it's big, it's loud, it's petrifying. He's scared he'll do something wrong, and on those days when the fear eats him alive, he closes up, rejecting your presence. But then, he sees how down you are, and knows that wasn't right, so the following day he's at your beck and call. He'll do whatever you ask, just say the word and it's done, for you. His fatal flaw is that he never communicates his deep-seated fears, instead choosing to let them rumble in his gut and disrupt your relationship as a consequence. He wants you, though, and he never wants you to doubt that. He'll communicate eventually, the words spilling out before he can think much of them, apologies and desperate sobs with them. He won't shut down anymore after this, choosing to remain like an open book for you to read at any time. He will learn to hold you the right way, without clamming up nervously when you tell him he's perfect. 

The Silent Boys: 

Tohma, Romeo, Ritsu, Lyca, Alan, Jin

their love is consistent 

never changes, always with immense depth, but never readily apparent 

love is like a pretty serene waterfall with unseen strong currents capable of killing someone 

like to switch it up every now and again (mayyybe dom→sub, sub→dom yk)

last moderately. some might finish fast, some might take a while.

His attitude and demeanor towards you hardly change. He loves you, and he's serious about it, but that won't mean special treatment, extra gifts, or public displays of love. He will love you exactly as he always has, and sees nothing wrong with it. His love is in how he looks out for you, how he worries for you despite himself, how he may allow himself a small smile when you approach, or a sigh heavy laden with devotion, after you wrap your arms around him, and before he pushes you off of him. It's okay because you know how his heart beats erratically in his chest when you approach, which he's strangely good at hiding. You know how his breath hitches in his throat every time he sees you, his eyes glazing over like you're a vision to be committed to memory. You know how he treasures you, his love hidden under his vast sea of responsibilities. Peel the layers back and you'll see he's yours in all ways that matter, but he also knows he can't let that get in the way of his daily life. Once he has the time, and is no longer bearing the weight of prying eyes and overwhelming expectations, he'll build his life around you, to make sure you feel centered in his life, as he does in yours.

well if nobody really likes these at least i had fun. amen!

no blurb 2 put here except that i have a ren fic incoming soon bc my regular [🐟] anon went crazy in my inbox about that boy and his damn collarbones.

y'all have a wonderful day im so tired.

taglist: @cupcakesmoothie @aayakashii @sunskosh @despairingy-obsessed @glamorousspoon @mmy-meow @dailyvahine @diluxama @obscuarysghoulnextdoor @disassociationdive

want 2 join or be removed from the tkdb taglist? let me know!

[muzetrigger]

Pluto and “The Black Cat”

I guess it takes a community event for me to actually write out that Pluto post I've been planning for *checks notes* 2 months.

So, let's talk about Pluto (finally)!

By the way, spoilers, so if you're not into that:

We're first introduced to Pluto during the Maze arc, where he's unceremoniously dumped on Duke and Lenore by the Posh Crew, which also includes his roommate Prospero.

At first, it's easy to write Pluto off as kind of an emo soft boi. And in fact, Duke even tries to ditch him during the Acrophobia Trial.

It's not hard to see why. Aesthetically, Pluto has a much darker presentation than the rest of the cast which gives him the impression of a gloomy introvert that won't really contribute anything to the team. He wears a grey turtleneck instead of a white dress shirt marks him as a visual outcast; his slouching posture projects a lack of confidence; and his eye covering bangs actually do a lot of work to make him appear less communicative (windows to the soul, right?).

On top of that, Pluto's pretty small, a trait emphasized by his overly large jacket, which unlike other students, doesn't seem to be tailored to him, and his prickly personality don't earn him any teamwork points. I mean, just look at him:

The point being, Pluto isn't exactly the image of confidence that Duke and Lenore need to help muscle through the maze.

That being said, like most great characters, Pluto almost immediately shows he has a lot more going for him than first impressions.

One thing that readers might have noticed is that because Pluto is pretty small and unassuming, he's great at sneaking around.

But since it's mostly played as a gag many people might have also missed this detail right after:

Pluto stepping on a branch isn't mindbogglingly important, but it does speak to his character in a really touching way. He immediately recognizes that his silence upsets Duke and Lenore and goes out of his way to make noise so they aren't startled by him, even though they really haven't been the nicest to him.

It's a small detail, but it shows that right from the beginning, Pluto is someone who cares about other people, which is further reinforced when he tries to break up Duke and Lenore during Duke's inconceived attempt to awaken Lenore's spectre:

The maze also highlights a few of Pluto's other positive traits. For example, he's surprisingly interested in etymology (what a dork; I love him), which gives Red an easy way to explain the Greek/Latin roots to the readers while also playing up Pluto's allusion to the Roman god. It also indicates that Pluto is fairly book smart, which is directly contrasted by Duke's street smarts in the Chronophobia trial and Lenore's... instinct? Let's call it intuition.

We also get a bit of foreshadowing for Pluto's spectre. One, he's actually pretty dextrous on a tightrope, and two, he can't swim, both of which are traits stereotypically associated with cats.

Speaking of which, Pluto's spectre:

According to Poppet, Pluto is a Crytid, a type of Spectre that manifests when someone had a deep-seated desire to escape social constraints, but somewhat paradoxically, Pluto is a cat, a domesticated creature.

I'm going to take a small aside to say that cats really aren't that domesticated. I mean yes, who doesn't love tea cup kittens, but cats can return to the wild and they still share most of their genetic code and evolutionary instincts with their untamed counterparts, which can't really be said about dogs.

Okay, back to Nevermore, except I lied, we're actually going back to 1845 when Edgar Allan Poe published "The Black Cat".

If you didn't know (but you probably did. After all, you're reading a Nevermore character analysis), almost every Nevermore character is based on one or more works by EAP. (You can check out their main inspirations in this other post.)

And Pluto's story is "The Black Cat". It isn't one of Poe's most famous works, so you could be forgiven for not knowing about it, but if you have read it, you probably immediately recognized its influence on Pluto.

First, a brief overview of the story: (CW: animal abuse)

Like most Poe short stories, "The Black Cat" is narrated by an insane murderer (that's a tad hyperbolic, but you get the point). Unlike other narrators though, this narrator actually started out somewhat decent.

You see, the narrator used to be a loving husband to a woman that he married early in life. Both of them loved animals, so over the years, they cared for a lot of pets together, including "birds, gold-fish, a fine dog, rabbits, a small monkey, and a cat."

This cat is, of course, the titular Black Cat and his name is Pluto. He's also described as being the narrator's "favorite pet and playmate."

Unfortunately, the narrator is also an alcoholic, and his addiction gradually turns him from a loving and sensitive man into a violent mess. He's able to stave off his alcohol fueled abuse from Pluto for several years, but eventually, Pluto ticks him off and he grabs the cat and purposefully cuts out one of its eyes with a penknife.

Understandably, Pluto (the cat) does not take kindly to this, and for the rest of its life tries to avoid the narrator, which the narrator takes surprisingly well.

At first.

Eventually, his alcoholism catches up with him and he decides that, for literally "no other reason than because he knows he should not" decides to hang the cat.

So, there are a ton of references to the short story in Nevermore. Pluto's dad is a physically abusive drunk who cuts out Pluto's eye, Pluto's name and spectre are inspired by the Black Cat, and the way Pluto unlocks his spectre mirrors how the narrator hangs his pet.

But there are arguably lot more allusions from the rest of the story. You see right after the narrator kills Pluto, his house burns down and there are two characters in Nevermore who are associated with fire:

Lenore and Monty, both of whom have a pretty interesting relationship with Pluto, especially when you line them up with Pluto's short story.

If you associate the narrator's house burning down as karmic retribution, then Lenore is a natural pick. After all, she not only burns down her estate, her presence in Pluto's (after)life is arguably what causes him to start standing up for himself more, and at the very least, her leadership is what gets him through maze for a shot at the second life which dovetails nicely with the fallout of the narrator's house burning.

You see, the narrator doesn't perish along with his material possessions, but one wall of his house also survives, and burned into that wall is the image of a hanging cat, a reminder of his sins.

Soon after, the narrator, still drowning his sorrows and guilt at bars, happens upon a second cat who is "fully as large as Pluto, and closely resembling him in every aspect but one." It's even missing an eye. The only thing that separates it from Pluto is a patch of white hair on its chest.

Now the concept of doubling is one of Poe's hallmarks, and it's mirrored wonderfully in Nevermore by the students' past lives and their current unlife as students, or alternatively, their human form and their spectre form, but it's also symbolically present for Pluto because by leading him out of the maze, Lenore also leads Pluto on the path to a second life in addition to inspiring him to be more confident, which is arguably the difference between his past and current self.

Based on Pluto's memories, it doesn't seem like his father thought of him as a "man" and given his character introduction, Pluto was a meek person. But after meeting Lenore and befriending Duke, Pluto does this:

One, it's hilarious that Pluto is talking about taking eyes, but two, Pluto is fully ready to kill Monty here and that leads me to part two of the fire.

Monty is a self destructive individual. He purposefully instigates fights, loves to stir up trouble for no reason, and suffers from trauma that arguably isn't his fault (not to say that dealing with that trauma isn't his responsibility).

In some ways, he's haunted by his religious upbringing as much as the narrator of "The Black Cat" is by his alcoholism. Both are aware of how much it ruins their lives, but they can't help leaning into those violent tendencies. The narrator even calls his alcoholism a "fiend".

And, they both wall up someone they're rooming with.

Because, there's even more to the new black cat than driving the narrator insane. In fact, the narrator goes as far as murdering his wife while attempting to kill the new Pluto (I can't believe she stuck around, the poor woman).

And like any Poe narrator worth his salt, "The Black Cat" narrator decides to hide the body by walling her up in a false chimney. This comes with the added benefit of scaring the new black cat away so the narrator can finally enjoy some piece and quiet.

Only it turns out this is a lie. Just like Monty narrowly avoiding Pluto's gunshot, the Black Cat's absence turns out to be the narrator's undoing because the narrator accidently walled up the cat with his wife's corpse, and it's the cat's screeching that ultimately unmasks his crimes.

Similarly, it's Pluto's belief in Duke that activates Duke's spectre, "freeing a corpse" and leading to the much needed string of chapters where everyone dunks on Monty. (Thank you, Pluto.)

I think it's really neat that Red managed to blend multiple Poe stories into a new plot thread, and I'm really looking forward to seeing what she and Flynn have in store with Pluto because even though his inspiration story has been pretty much fully acted out, most of spectre abilities really haven't been explored.

For instance, while "unlucky" is a general description of black cats, Pluto's presence has actually been a major boon for the misfits, saving Duke, explaining the thalassophobia trial in the maze, guiding Lenore and Duke through Acrophobia, and also warning Lenore and defending her during the Manor arc. Maybe it's bad luck for his enemies or straight up luck manipulation?

"Blink" could be a reference to Pluto's dash attack, but Pluto also has an uncanny ability to disappear from people's perception as demonstrated during the maze and to a lesser extent when he hides from Eulalie in the forbidden wing.

For those of us into TTRPGs, blink is also sometimes used to refer to teleporting or the DnD spell of the same name with causes the caster to fade in and out of existence!

And finally, "evil eye" is a very intriguing ability. While it could just be a reference to Pluto's missing/remaining eye, as @takescrackseriously and other readers have pointed out, it could also be a reference to Poe's "Telltale Heart" maybe having the ability to drive victims mad, like Pluto's namesake (er, reincarnation?) does in "The Black Cat".

That brings up another question, which is why is Pluto still missing his eye? Lenore was also seriously injured in life, but she isn't crippled like she was post-Theo as a student. What injuries get to be healed and which remain in Nevermore?

I'm interested to see if, like Will's freaky blood wax clones, spectres' powers can develop and how far they can develop. After all, Pluto's power set seems fairly basic, and while I love underdogs (undercats?), ostensibly there's some kind of balancing system that makes traits like "blink" and "teeth" keep up with monsters like "fear itself" and "divine light".

Okay, maybe not given the ruthless nature of the academy and the Raven's comments, but narratively that can feel a bit unsatisfying, y'know? Because it would be such a waste for Pluto's development to stall here despite the amazing amount of progress he's already made.

Plus, aesthetically, I'm willing to bet Flynn is going to incorporate more white into Pluto's character design, because a considerable amount of detail focuses on this one difference between Pluto and the new cat in the short story. In fact, it seems to be one of the factors in the narrator's full descent into madness because he starts seeing the cat's white patch as morphing into the image of a noose.

And to close out this really lengthy post on a bright note, have some terrified Pluto:

What a cutie. We must protect him at all costs.

By the way, if you enjoyed my rambling, here are links to similar theory/analysis posts talking about Ada and Annabel!

[stuck-in-jelly]

Fuck it

Ficlet

Amaya and Gren had left. They had left to see the final touched on Amaya’s tailored wedding outfit and now Janai and Corvus sat in awkward silence.

Its not as if they dislike each other, its simply that they never had to opportunity to speak to one another in a relaxed environment.

In the aftermath of The Battle of The Stormspire she led her troops, her orders being echoed to the human soldiers as well. There was much to do, traitors to be arrested, bodies to be collected, wounds to be tended to so they were unable to speak personally to one a other.

Then when Janai and Amaya returned to camp it was Corvus who informed Janai of the news of Miyana’s betrayal, worked to help track where her brother had decided to make his base.

But now, a merciful cool breeze whistled within Janai’s Royal tent, the floral aroma of some rather fancy tea filled the air, spicy veggie curry pleasantly filled their stomach, soft sounds or children playing filled the air, and joy filled the usually somber streets of new aurea.

In other words, it was painstakingly peaceful.

Corvus could see her ears twitch slightly at every small sound that came near her tent, hopeful Amaya or Gren would return to relive them of this weird tension. Her hands gripped her empty cup, one she kept pretending to sip out of a couple of times now.

The anxious energy in the room was getting worse by the second and Corvus knew he had to do something about it.

“So I-“ “would you like-“

They both stopped talking and stared at each other for a moment longer. Corvus bowed his head apologetically.

“Please, your radiance, go ahead. I did not mean to interrupt.” Janai regarded him with a shocked expression but cleared her throat.

“You, don’t need to refer to me so formally. You’re our guest! Amaya’s old friend after all.” She smiled gracefully recovering with the same royal grin worn and practiced by nearly all ruling monarchs. Even in Xadia apparently.

“We are in your court Queen Janai. I’d like to be respectful.” Even among the people he’s closest with he tries his best to place their titles above their relationship, with various degrees of success.

“But soon I’ll be part of her family. That includes you, no?”

Corvus blinked in shock his mouth dropping open slightly and closing it. This goes unnoticed to Janai who continues.

“Amaya tells me of your letters often, how proud of you she is. Though she did say you should write more now that you’ve settled down.” Corvus glances away in light embarrassment, this time, Janai catches onto Corvus’s discomfort and attempts to side track.

“So, Amaya tells me you’re a musician.” She supplies instead, leaning against the table.

“Oh-“ Corvus clears his throat and straightens his back more. “Yes. My mother owns an instrument store and growing up she taught me how to read and write music. Though I mostly specialize in strings.”

Janai seemed to consider this for a moment. a hint of hesitation in her eyes before she spoke again.

“Would you be interested in some traditional Sunfire songs?”

At her bedstand Janai rummages for a moment before she returns to the table with a collection of pages.

Corvus accepts the bundle with intrigue, studying the lines dutifully. Prominence Promenade, he read the title. To his surprise it seems the way music has been transcribed is universal though out elvish cultures as well.

While Corvus studies Janai walks towards her memorial shrine. Its a lovely shrine, lovingly decorated with memories of her late sister, her mother, father,grandmother, and more.

One of the first things Corvus noted from it was the lack of dust or mess, it was tended to daily and lovely greatly.

From the shrine Janai plucks a lyre and a pair of finger cymbals with a soft bow and a mummer of something in Sun’s Elvish.

“I admit, I’m rather poor with the arts. But i can play a mean back up cymbal.” she taps the tiny bronze instrument between her fingers with a smile. In turn he offers his own.

Janai nervously offers the lyre to Corvus. For this he stands, searching her expression rather than the lyre.

“Are you sure, your radiance?” She nods but doesn’t speak.

A lyre was one of the first instruments his mother showed him how to play, it felt nostalgic to feel the weight in his hands. It, no doubt, is a beautiful instrument. Sturdy holm oak wood, brass embellishments, carved figures of dancing elves and ribbons.

Truly a craft of love. Corvus almost wanted to ask who had crafted it but thought better of it, instead he tentatively tugs the strings listening for how the sound resonated.

A few sour notes lead into a rhythm and soon he begun to follow the notes of Prominence Promenade. Janai joins part way through.

Corvus was used to playing mellower pieces, deep, low, and sometimes sad. But this was lively, full of warm and joy. He could feel energy pulsing through him as he closed his eyes allowing the music to take him.

‘Queen Janai should give herself more credit’ Corvus thinks, ‘she has wonderful rhythm’.

By the time the pair reach towards the end of the song Janai had begun to sway and dance, her steps steady and confident. When the melody stops Janai pauses her dancing.

The performance has loosened her up, her previously tense demeanor melted away in a matter of seconds.

The queen begins “I-“

“What a show!” Corvus and Janai leap, snapping around to see Gren and Amaya had returned both with smiles on their faces.

‘At least I assume it was a good show.’ Amaya teases Gren doesn’t translate that part verbally.

Gren and Amaya join for an encore. Gren claps along and stomps while Janai taps the cymbals against Amaya’s face playfully in between actually playing them and Amaya plays her own cymbals and though her rhythm is way off, its fun.

A soft buzz fills Corvus’s chest being here. He should write more songs about moments like this.

On today’s episode of “More Dragon Prince Character Interactions I Would’ve Loved To See” I think these two deserve their own awkward one on one scene

[seokmn]

︵⠀IN THE HEAT OF THE MOMENT ⠀◌Ⳋ ✧ ── when the anger speaks louder and you forget that words can cut like a knife, you need to reassure the broken person that your heart is still full of them and to promise to be better.

pairing: sungho x gn!reader wc: 1.1k words warnings: mentions of alcohol

ᯓ★ “and i said i wouldn’t call, but i’m a little drunk and i need you now”

Letting out your anger and saying things you don’t really mean to in the middle of a fight is not right, but it’s also not a sin. Sometimes you don’t even notice that the words came out until you see the person’s reaction.

That’s why you and Sungho were always careful about the choice of words when you were fighting, but this time the argument was too intense, too hurtful. Things came out of your lips that you wish they didn’t, the three cursed words included. I hate you.

God, you would do anything to get back in time and never say the things that you said to Sungho. You wanted him to feel hurt as much as you were feeling, but at what cost? The look on his face as he heard you was slowly turning into an extremely hurt expression. It felt like you were watching you break his heart in a matter of seconds.

He didn’t even fight back, he just turned around and left without any excuses or explanations. You couldn’t say he was wrong for doing that, you would’ve probably done the same thing as him.

When the anger subsided, you found yourself at a bar, drinking to forget your mistakes and sorrows. You knew that you should go after Sungho and apologize, tell him how much you love him and promise that you’ll do your best to never repeat that same mistake again. But you didn’t have the courage to do so.

After a couple bottles of soju, the alcohol had intoxicated you already as you found yourself all alone and remembering all the sweet moments you had with him. How you first met him, all those serenades, the nights full of laughter or full of passion, the times when he kissed and praised your insecurities and showed you how much he loves you and finds you perfect, all the promises of a beautiful and nurturing future together.

Tears started to fall from your eyes abruptly as you mumbled his name and felt your heart ache. You needed to apologize to him, to show him that you could never hate him, that your heart was so full of him that it couldn't even be called yours anymore.

Your fingers tapped the phone’s screen as you dialed his number like the act of calling his number became such an habit that it’s now a part of your autopilot mode. Once he picked up, your phone was already glued to your ear.

“Sungho? Love…?” The pet name came out hesitantly, as if you were scared of saying it.

There was a brief silence before you finally heard the voice that you were dying to hear the entire night. “I’m here.” You let out a shaky sigh when he spoke up, sobering up when you took note of his tired and teary tone.

“I… I need you, Sungho,” you inhaled, trying to take a deep breath, even with your nostrils clogged from crying so much. “I need you here with me. I think I drank a little too much and I really wish you were here… I’m sorry for what I said earlier, I didn’t mean any of that,” you let out a sob and looked around the bar, trying to find him even though you knew he wasn’t there. “You know I love you more than anything in this world.”

“Are you at the bar near your place?”

“Yes…”

“Don’t move, I’m on my way.”

After a few minutes of staring at the bar’s door that seemed like hours, you saw the door opening for the 10th time, but this time it was Sungho who was entering the bar. He looked around and when his eyes landed on your face, you could see his expression softening.

“Sungho…” You mumbled and smiled when you saw him walking towards you. His hand found your cheek as he lifted your face and studied it, making sure that you weren’t too drunk. You looked up at him and leaned into his touch. “You came.”

He sighed and took a seat next to you before asking for the bartender a cup of water. “You called.”

“Are you mad at me?”

“No, I’m not mad at you.” He kept his eye on the bartender, watching him fill up a glass of water and place it on the counter right in front of you.

You frowned. “You should be, I hurt you, I said things I shouldn’t have.”

“I’m not mad,” he looked at you. “I’m upset, Y/N. It’s not easy to hear your partner that you love so much telling you that they hate you and a lot more shit.”

“I know,” you bit your lower lip in order to not cry. “And I know that what I did was wrong, but I didn’t mean any of that. I was hurt and wanted to hurt you as well. I’m so sorry, Sungho.” You took his hand and held it like you were holding the most precious diamond in your hands. “You are my everything and I shouldn’t have said all those things. In the heat of the moment I broke your heart — something I promised myself I would never do. I can’t take what I said back, but I can prove to you that I don’t think any of that and that that shit will never happen again. Please, can you forgive me?”

Sungho took a deep breath and wiped away your tears with a gentle touch, his thumb caressing the skin under your eyes. His lips turned into a little smile that warmed up your heart. “Ah, Y/N…” He pressed his lips against your forehead for a moment and leaned back looking into your eyes. “What should I do to you, hm?”

Sungho chuckled and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. You smiled at him, your body felt light and you felt funny, and you didn’t know if it was because of your boyfriend or because of the alcohol.

“We make mistakes, it’s what makes us humans. But don’t do that to me again, my heart won’t take it. I thought I would die when you told me those things.”

You nodded repeatedly. “I promise you I will never do that again. I love you way too much and it hurts me to know that I upset you.”

Sungho pressed his lips against your forehead once again before letting you rest your head on his shoulder. “You’re still drunk, aren’t you?”

“No. Maybe,” you giggled. “Just a little bit.”

“Gonna let you rest for a moment before I take you home, okay? Gonna take care of the love of my life. But once you’re sober, you give me the best princess treatment ever because I deserve it.”

You chuckled and gave him a quick peck on his neck. “Got it, Sungho, my special princess.”

“I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Sungho, more than you can imagine.

[edennill]

Silmarillion Epistolary Week 2025 #1

here's to the mess we make

ao3 link

Fingon to Maedhros, private correspondence, in Quenya:

Nelyo, Russandol, dearest and most beloved friend and cousin, or however it is you wish to be called these days:

My father is well, the weather is mild and fair at this time of year, no stray orcs since my last letter, and so, and so on. If you have anything more worth the effort of writing down to in that vein, please feel free to share – by which I mean, what new insult against law and love have you prevented T&C from committing recently? And the twins’ falconry project – have you already found the one you promised to me? (Which you did, I remind you) But lest you think me a poor correspondent, I do indeed have a weightier matter to describe – of which, in fact, you will be the first to hear.

Russo, I do believe I am in love.

She is a Sinda of Mithrim, named after the rose, and indeed as fair, though I will not attempt to do her (or indeed any other; I am no poet to describe charm or grace) justice for fear of making a fool of myself. But her hair is that rare silver, not so pale, but dark and yet still shining, and she wears her braids longer than Artanis.

But oh – how you would believe her to be of the house of Finwë by the way she carries herself! It is as if – as if all the other Sindar I have met in this land were looking down at the ground, and she was the first to look me in the eye. Not literally, of course, though she is tall for her people, but I cannot describe it to you better.

I want to see a crown of adamant upon those braids. She deserves to be part of this House – it is as if by a mistake of the tides of the world that she is not. I would rectify it.

Russandol, Russandol – how can I make you understand what I am speaking about – without having seen her, without having my heart within your chest. I love you, I love you; I am drunk on the world – and very foolish. I do not know whether she would ever return my affection – but I doubt she would be more likely to if she knew how silly I'm being, would she?

Russandol, forget the above and give me some advice! The political workings of such an issue would have to be tumultuous, would they not?

Lovingly, your Finno

___

Maedhros to Fingon, private correspondence, in Quenya:

Dear Finno,

Should I reply to your desire for more concrete news in the same way as you have served me? No new outrage has happened in Himlad, thank you for asking. As for the falcons – ask the twins. They have told me nothing.

Some dunce set fire to the bathhouse by the city wall (accidentally, I presume – or at least hope). I have been doing my best to stop the entirely ridiculous rumour going around that it was the deed of a thrall, because yes, Morgoth certainly would set his sights on a bathhouse and at the hour when it's most empty, would he not? On such days as these, I hate the Noldor, I hate the Sindar, and I hate Middle Earth. You forbid me to joke about my own life and death, which I comply with, note, only because I owe it to you, so I will refrain from saying what else I hate. Either way, this is mostly in jest, I have had coffee and broken fast, and hardly feel as irritated as I was a while ago, but it bore saying.

Without further ado – regarding the heavy matter you dropped on me so suddenly – I am flattered that I am the first person you share this with (although, I wonder – have you spoken with anyone else by the time you are reading this? I might refrain from making it widely known if I were you)... but Finno. Finno. Have you – you must have – thought of the consequences of this in conjunction with certain deeds of the past? To wit, your untimely intervention in Alqualondë, curse myself and my house for bringing this upon you.

I am afraid you are in an unresolvable quandary on which I have little advice to give. There is nothing I would counsel you against more strictly than entering a holy and permanent relationship with a member of the third clan while concealing this matter, though. And yet you cannot think of telling her, I assume. Please tell me you do not. If our presence in this land is to be fruitful and untroubled, there can be no risk of the particulars leaking out. Nor do I think that the knowledge of this would make the lady look upon you favourably, I'm afraid.

I do not know if joining the House is a blessing I would wish upon one I loved.

It is a heavy matter and I feel loath to counsel you on that which I have never known – but if you still may, would it not be wiser to forget about her?

Do not do anything reckless.

Russandol

___

Finrod to Fingon, private note, Quenya:

I cannot believe you have fallen in love because you found someone just as haughty as you are.

On a more serious note, you do realise, I hope, how a secret might prove an obstacle in these conditions?

[Initials which can be made out with some difficulty from under several layers of flourishes and a snake monogram:] F.I.

[murfpersonalblog]

Sam Reid on the Betrayal at the Heart of Season Two of ‘Anne Rice’s Interview with the Vampire’ - Awards Buzz

Awards Buzz: First of all, I love the show, I know you have heard that a 100-thousand times. What I'm curious about is that Interview with the Vampire deals very much with recollection and memory and unreliable narrators and all of these things. I am suddenly very nervous now that I'm actually in your presence, but--

Sam Reid: No I'm nervous that we're together chatting--I'm in your presence, let's be nervous together!

AB: As an actor, how do you sort of deal with portraying that, portraying maybe somebody else's recollection of this character--does that play into your thinking? 

SR: Yeah, and we talk about it all the time. I think it's something that we all do, playing these roles: we sort of look at how the character is at a specific period of time. I mean, with Lestat specifically, yes he's often seen through the eyes of Louis, but I can't say that Louis got it all wrong. But there are definitely moments where we're going to push into the hyper-archvillain. And I think, also playing with Armand’s perspective and Armand letting him--Armand sort of seeing him a bit more as a kind of, like a romance novel cover kind of thing. And what that dynamic is. But you know, Assad does a very similar thing, where he's sort of playing multiple characters at multiple different times. And Jacob does the same thing, where you see them through different lenses at different periods of time. I think that's sort of the joy of what this show is, and what it gives us as actors is the opportunity to kind of really have very mercurial flexible roles that we can try different things, explore different things. This was quite a fun thing to keep returning back to, because you don't really ever feel set in stone. You feel like you can give a new era a go, which I suppose is the joy of playing an immortal character, I guess.

AB:  Do you--I mean, I mentioned your charm; that's such a big part of the character. Do you feel like that's maybe like hard for you sometimes to have to be this sort of looming presence that sort of exudes all these different, like--the gamut of human emotion?

SR: What do you mean by hard?

AB: Like, do you feel a lot of pressure to be able to--there's so many facets in in Season 2, he's playing a person who is a vampire who's playing--?

SR: Oh sure! Yeah, of course! And it's always challenging, that's why it's so fun. It is a really challenging show, and it's sort of under the premise of it being a genre vampire show, but I guess really we use the metaphor of a vampire to be a much larger conduit to have really intense conversations about humanity. So you are playing a bunch of different levels at all times, which makes it challenging. And Rolin Jones also is like extraordinary at layering the script and layering every scene with as many different things as possible. He has a kind of obsession about making sure that an audience is never going to be bored, and he really wants you to lock in when you watch. And when you have to kind of translate that on set, sometimes you're obviously speaking multiple languages, you're usually doing some kind of a stunt with a rig of some kind, or multiple dialogues between multiple characters--one happening telepathically, and one happening in present day. There's so many things that he layers onto it. But yeah, 💖💖 I guess in terms of like keeping the overall arc of Lestat alive, it's sort of important that we remain connected to the love story at the center of it, which is Louis and Lestat. And so that you feel attached to their separation, and their experiences previously and going forward. That you as an audience member continue to invest in these characters and their push and pull. 💖💖 So that's kind of complex, because we have to play those beats sometimes in random and turnabout ways, like a ghost or a vision or-- Yeah so it's always challenging, but challenges are fun!

AB: Well, I feel like maybe if your next role is going to be quote unquote straightforward then you're going to be like: I miss all of that! I think about that all the time with actors, like how do you go on to just play some regular guy?! 

SR: It’s really fun playing a supernatural, very intense vampire. It can be kind of exhausting too.

AB: And that brings me to my next question, which is, like: The physicality is so interesting, not just because he's, again, this very graceful sort of--he's obviously been alive for centuries, but like you also have the blood and all these scenes-- What is it like for you to sort of inhabit this skin of this being? 

SR: I don't really-- I think the costumes do so much work for us. I think what was kind of, what is fun and and probably not really thought about too much is that we're all--we all have accents on the show, so we've all sort of developed these sort of character skins. So when we start playing the game of the show with each other, the accents come on and the physicality appears, and everyone just sort of slips into it. And we just kind of play! Really, it sounds a bit silly, but it's just a big game, so the physicality is sort of always there, because they're like the costumes that we put on. I think you do a lot of thought about it, early, in the beginning, and then now as we go on it's sort of ingrained, and sometimes you have to work very hard to pull back some of the choices that you've made, because you don't want to get stuck in a rut. Like, I say, these are mercurial characters, and they are ever-evolving, and you want to make sure that you don't get them stuck in a particular era, which is sort of like, one of the joys of the character of Armand is that he's always looking for a way into the new century, you know what I mean? 

AB: So I'm sure you're already aware of this, but in doing my research to talk to you, I realized that fans are very upset at how long they've had to wait in-between seasons. 👀😅 And then I wondered what's that like for you as an actor? Do you like having--maybe because you've talked about how when you're shooting the show you have to shoot very quickly, but as you're sort of waiting, do you feel like having that time helps you prepare? Do you find it maybe difficult to kind of come in and out, and then also having a lot of time pass, and you have to come back and talk to me about it?

SR: I mean it's difficult talking about Season 2, honestly. Because we're moving into a new season, and so sometimes I have to remember what's happened, but it might feel like a very long time for audiences, but actually we're working the whole time in-between. Like, actually making it, because the difference is: when a show comes out, the show is being shot in that period of time, or written or developed or rehearsed, and then they've got to go into posts, and we spend a lot of time in posts. We spend a lot of time doing ADR, or doing sound recording or whatever it is that we have to bring into it. So it actually doesn't necessarily feel like we get a break. It feels actually like the show just keeps going continuously, and it becomes a lifestyle in a way. Because then we're also promoting it, which also does take up quite a lot of time as well. 

AB: But do you feel like, I mean, I guess when you look back on Season 2, what stands out to you, and what's your overarching takeaway, like if I was writing a book about your experience on Interview with the Vampire? 

SR: What's the thing that I would take away from Season 2? Um, I think one of the key elements--which hopefully does translate--is that Louis and Lestat really betrayed Claudia. Claudia is the most important person in their lives, and in my opinion the show really--because she's such an incredible figure, and to lose her like we lose her in this season should feel so devastating that it creates a world-shattering reverberation throughout the show, and throughout subsequent seasons. So hopefully, the way that Armand, Louis and Lestat have all interacted with Claudia, and the way that this character has been betrayed by all three of them at different stages--and then obviously Delainey Hayles' extraordinary portrayal of this character, who is so fundamentally tragic. 💔 Because there's this adult trapped in a child's body, which is an amazing amazing Anne Rice-ian creation, that you should feel and walk away from this season feeling totally connected to Claudia, and be yearning for her like the rest of these vampires are, for many years to come. 👏❤️

AB: well I have to be honest with you: At the end of Season 1, I kind of hated Lestat! 

SR: Yeah, you should!  👈🫵😤👏

AB: He was just so monstrous at times, that I really struggled with, like: what am I supposed to feel for this character?! But I felt in Season 2 that things were maybe a little, like, softer, and there were more facets to him that I got to learn, and I felt more of a pull. 🥺👉👈 And so I wondered like, for you again playing--like, how do you maybe relate to the more monstrous things? Do you find it hard for you at times to empathize with this?

SR: I think, because we are telling this sort of onion kind of story, where you're peeling away at the artifice, and the point of view, and how Louis is framing Lestat, you're sort of meant to kind of feel like he's just--you're meant to hate him, you know? But as you peel it away, and the things he can't escape, and the memories he’s trying to erase but he can't, you start to see that there was a bit more of a different dynamic to that relationship. So yeah, I mean, I guess it was sort of--sometimes when, early in Season 1, I remember, there's a scene where, um, it's after they have a huge kind of attack basically, and just before Lestat drops him from the sky, and we had this really complicated rig where I had to pull Jacob down the alley, and um--that day was really challenging, because I just couldn't work out how to pitch it. Because it felt so felt so wrong, I was like: I just don't really know what I'm doing! 😩 Like, I couldn't work it out, so it is hard. You kind of have to find the level of not making it so extreme that we just step out of the realm of an audience being able to connect and care about it; but you also have to make it sort of arch enough to feel the stakes of the scene. And the same thing with the Trial episode. There's elements of it which you know Rolin--the way he crafts things is: he wants the audience to feel the most that they can feel about any given moment. He always goes "Well let's go to the furthest we can! Let's not give them a little kind of tickle; let's give them a smack!" And sorry I've used that analogy, but anyway! And so the Trial was challenging, because he really wanted that feeling to come you; wanted you wanted you to feel like Lestat was coming in there for vengeance, for revenge, you know? And there was--there's more than that; it's more complicated than that, there's a lot more going on. But we had to play it for the initial reaction, the initial heat, and then we could slowly slip in more layers around it afterwards.

AB: I love what you said about sort of vampire lore being our conduit to sort of explore all these deeper human emotions, and I felt like that was my experience watching the show. I thought a lot about resentments or anger--all these emotions, and how I sort of have to sit with them. And here are these people that have been around a lot longer than I have, and they're sitting with all these deep emotions. So I wonder: have you sort of wrestled with this idea of like maybe, how playing this character has influenced you, and the way you think about these sort of larger overarching themes in your own life? 

SR: Um, I think I'm always informed by any character that you play, and any experience you have--whether it be your job or not. You're sort of informed by it, in general, I think. So yeah, I'm sure I'm subconsciously--somewhere, I'm learning from this experience. But more often than not, you have to bring your own experience to these things, and you have to sort of supplement it for the context that you're given in the script. So yeah, I mean you know, I think everybody hopefully--well not hopefully, but you know--it's an important experience in your life, to have your heart broken. And it's important, you know, you learn a lot from that. And it's an important experience in life, if people are lucky to have it, to actually fall in love. 💔 And that's important, so I think, to be able to play these things, you have to have lived those experiences, so that you know you can make it feel human; you can make it make sense, and you're not just living in, you know, big genre fantasy world. 

AB: Sam, I have to let you go, but I do want to give you the final word, if there's anything that I haven't asked you about that you wanted to mention last, if there's anything you can tell me about Season 3, to hold on to.

SR: What was what was the first part of your question? If there's just anything else I want to tell you about Season 3, is that yes, we're very close to filming it, and we'll be filming in Toronto. Daniel Hart is working feverishly away, and I'm really excited for everybody to see the work that he has done, because it is extraordinary! 

AB: Well, I wish you the best of luck, and have fun on Season 3, and hopefully we get to catch up again, but thank you so much for your time.

[trashedsunsets]

Spoiled Honey

Chapter 2: Local Honey

***

Summary ~

Small towns need big personalities to compensate. If only overworked ER doctors knew that.

wc ~ 1k+

a/n ~

thank you for the love on the previous part! made my heart swell and confirmed that I wanted to do a series :) updates??? whenever I can lol. happy to answer any questions!

prev chapter

“My daddy said he’d buy me my next horse when I make him a million dollars at the store.”

It’s you, the cashier from the store, stood with your feet on the first rungs of the corral fence leaning over to look at the grazing foals.

Mrs. Talbot had convinced the men staying on her property to come to the famers market on the weekends at the edge of Main Street. Meaning that Jack had to convince Michael who was more than happy to stay in at the cozy farm property.

“You have a horse?” Robby can’t say he’s not intrigued by this girl, the pair had only just arrived at the event and she was already on them. “Of course I do, got my sweet girl Custard when I was eight.”

Soft kissy noises are heard as you call for one of the foals to come over to you, hand already extended for sniffs and pets. A curious caramel colored one makes their way over pushing their snout into your palm. Amused the men watch as you love on the baby horse cooing and rubbing the soft mane. Eventually you give your final pets to the foal then hop off the fence making your way closer to Robby and Abbot. “Alma said you boys are ER doctors. Is that true?”

“Alma?”

“Boys?”

Soft giggles leave you at their confusion. “Mrs. Talbots first name is Alma.” You stand up a little straighter sincerity taking over your face. “And I don’t mean to assume calling you both boys, I know in this day and age you should never assume. I apolog-“

“No no you’re fine. But don’t you think we’re a little too old to be called ‘boys’.” Abbot dismisses your worries with an easy hand wave. He nudges Robby lightly glancing to see if he heard that. The only response he gets is an eye roll, but there’s a smile twitching at the corners of his lips unspoken flattery at being referred to as young.

The crease in your forehead is replaced by a smile, a shrug of your shoulders before speaking again. “Well I don’t think you’re that old. I’m sure there’s some spritefulness left in you two.”

“Yes we are doctors sweetheart,” your previous question answered by Robby lights up glimmers of interest in your eyes. “and as for ‘spritefulness’ well… not so sure about that.”

“Aren’t we lucky to have such esteemed guests in our town then,” your voice is warm, inviting, but your gaze is just past them. A flicker of a frown graces your lips while one of your hands makes a discrete shooing motion by your side. Then your focus is back on the men a guiding palm extended in the direction of the market stands, “why don’t we go this way. I’ll be your own personal tour guide of all the best vendors.”

Abbot glances behind them to spot a group of girls about your age, giggling and waving at you. “You got some friends over there?”

“Uhh yeah but they can wait I see em all the time. Come on then.” Nodding your head to the path you want to take before stalking off confidently without letting them get another word in. For whatever reason they do follow you listening as you launch into a spiel about all the different stands. You’re very knowledgeable, but curious too. Head tiled as you lean against a display of products fingers tapping lightly.

“What’s the oldest age you’ve ever operated on?” While Abbot is deciding what loaf of sourdough bread to get. “Ninety-Five.”

You mouth the number back to yourself quietly in shock. He’s chuckling as he’s exchanging money with the baker.

At the strawberry stand you’re crouched petting the owners corgi, Butterball, when you look up at Robby, “On average how many stitches do you have to give a woman after she gives birth naturally?”

He shakes his head in disbelief but the look in your eyes is so earnest he answers you truthfully instead of scolding you. A warmth in his chest at the scrunched look of pain on your face when he tells you the number.

“Have you ever performed an amputation?” The pair share a glance before Robby gives his own response before turning the questions to you. “Sweetheart what’s your favorite jelly from here?”

Your eyebrows furrow before starting to explain that the booth sells jams not jellies, then explaining the difference between the two.

You’re clearly popular as the vendors eagerly greet you by name smiling as they chat with you. Before the pair knows it they’ve picked up a couple of things mainly(all) at your insistence.

In the middle of you describing all the variety of recipes people make with rhubarb there’s a sharp whistle that catches your groups attention. A pair of young men at the leather goods stall calls your name. The men you’re with stop but you roll your eyes hard feet quickly moving intent on passing them by. “Come on darling, lemme take you out. I’ll even buy you a new dress for your collection!”

From you a hand raises in protest. “A no once is a no a million times Jeremiah.”

Mocking a wounded grip to the heart the young man is undeterred with a snarky smirk. “You’ll give in one day princess.” The boys are laughing together delighted as if making you upset was a prize.

Disapproving glares are given by both doctors as they follow your haughty strut away. Silently deciding it’s more important that you’re okay before causing problems with the locals. Unfortunately for the older men you’re pretty quick managing to put considerable distance between you. When you’re almost at the edge of the market near the last row of stalls is when you turn around. There’s a look of surprise on your face upon spotting the pair of men, they followed you. Other emotions are faster to take over though, an angry huff escaping you. Pacing back and forth with your arms crossed you look pretty pissed. “Don’t you just hate it when people don’t listen! Especially when you tell them several different times on several different occasions. Like I hate to call people stupid but I think rejection is a very simple concept!”

Robby steps up palms raised ready to defuse the situation his deep understanding eyes taking in your emotional state.

Mrs. Talbot is suddenly calling your little group over to her own stand clearly very excited the men decided to come. In an instant your demeanor changes, the pacing seizes, your posture straightens out. But your smile is a little tight as you make your way over to your neighbor. The men follow seeing no other option as you greet Mrs. Talbot waving them over. “Hi there Michael and Jack! I see you’ve met Honey Belle already!” The older woman is smoothing your hair with familiarity as a rosey heat comes to your cheeks at her words. “Alma…”

“What? I can’t compliment the prettiest girl in town?! Oh— I’ll be there one moment.” You shake your head fondly as she shuffles away to help a customer. Looking up the men’s eyes are on you with amused expressions, Abbot opens his mouth first. “Honey Belle?”

“Okay well if you haven’t noticed everyone calls me honey,” they did notice but they thought it was colloquial around here “she is the only one who calls me ‘Belle’ because she said she thinks I’m the prettiest but I told her she can’t say that. She says she’s old so she can say what she wants with her time left. We’re working on it.” Your face is slightly exasperated but there’s no lack of fondness.

“Like the princess then?” Robby questions, meanwhile Abbot is unable to hide his laughter at your predicament. Your face twists with the reaction of the second man, nose lifted in the air with displeasure.

“Yes. Like the princess.”

Nudging his partners good foot then nodding to you.

Stop upsetting the girl would you?

Is said in a glance.

Looking back to you a smile tugs Robby’s lips. “She’s got a good eye then.”

Quickly as it came your bristled demeanor dissipates at the compliment with a quick nod. “When she remembers to wear her glasses sure.”

Flinching slightly from the light swat to the back of your head as Mrs. Talbot reappears by your side. “Calling me old are you Honey?”

Grinning lazily as you glance to the side then back at the boys, a silent plea to keep a secret. “Oh nothing my dearest Alma.”

credits to @olenvasynyt for the dividers!

btw the pics at the top aren’t meant to describe readers looks, purely for vibes/setting the scene!

[harbo-urr]

I can explain.

/the tier list is based on how much *I* like them, not on how good I think the character writing is/

Disclaimer: subjective opinion of a (probably) not neurodivergent person with a very high level of anxiety, agarophobia and depression, who also peaked in high school. Additionally, I'm partially thinking about the characters in a context of how I would feel about them in real life.

- S-tier: Ken reminds me of my awesome life partner but with an addition of some of my mental health problems, so I naturally feel close to him. He's cool. His self esteem is all over the place and I connect to it A LOT. I also like that he's a tough cookie and knows many smart things. He also has money and good relationships with his parents. Like, what else do you need in a person?

- A-tier: Kazutoshi is just a very well written character. I wouldn't say I usually like personalities like him, but he's story just makes it impossible not to root for him. Also the disability representation in him was super insightful for me since I never had any life experiences with it in any form, so it was a fun learning moment. I genuinely forgot he was not immune to dying and I'm still grieving a weird amount about it. Idk I don't want to think too deeply about him, it'll make me feel things.

Tamba reminds me of myself but if my mother didn't put time into developing my brain, so I love her dearly. She's like my inner terrible fucker up child. Her voice lines are very entertaining too.

- B-tier: all those are just characters with awesome arcs and personalities, they all are equally great. I just wish Tsuno was with us a bit longer. Funnily enough, all of them would be a C-tier if they died earlier than they did (aka if I knew them worse)

- C-tier: Kinda so-so territory. I have no negative and no positive thoughts about Wada, I just want him to get help; Sasaki is a similar case to Tamba for me, we're definitely extremely similar, but she dies too early for me to get to know her properly; similarly, Isono and Harada are potentially close to home character for me, but alas, I don't feel like I know them enough; Ojima is just boring, but he at least doesn't annoy me.

- D- and E- tier: .......well. how do I put it.

Let's start with Hama. This boy has some of the absolute best moments in the series. He's surprisingly wise, caring and kind. By all means, he should be the B-tier.

He also claims he has a demon arm and uses "badass" every other sentence.

Is it a crime??? No. Did my eye twitch? Yes.

Objectively, he doesn't deserve to be this low, but he had a lot of unjust things happen to him already, so what is another one.

And speaking of that...

Watari.

If she tried pulling her "principal watari" thing in front of me I would walk out of the room in a second. I cannot. Like. No.

Any play pretend freaks me out, like, how do I know she didn't go crazy, how do I know she doesn't actually believe she's a "principal" and most importantly, how can I feel safe around a person who thinks it's okay to go into a kindergarten mode in a killing game situation? Yanagi is weird with his prince act, but it's the kind of delusional that is easily understandable looking at human culture, but Watari's behaviours? No. Permission to be silly has been denied.

And I did feel bad for being so annoyed at her every word during the first two chapters and the first half of the third chapter, but all my uneasiness proved to be absolutely correct once she started to feel conflicted about the whole Okazaki situation (even bringing it up to Ken, like, are you serious girl?). And then the whole chapter 4 disaster.

It proved to me that, first and foremost, Watari is just unapologetically herself. She would act and do and think things that are impossible to control predict and justify in my head. Things that I wouldn't hope to influence in a million years because her inner world is so fucking strong. And I hate that.

So yeah.

Not a fan.

-

That's been my extremely subjective tetro pre-chapter 5 tier list. Maybe it'll change when the story's over, and maybe I'll let Hama out of his D-jail and move some guys from C higher, but Watari is staying just above the hellfire line and I'm not moving her anywhere even if I end up studying her character under a microscope to figure out why she triggers me so much.

[dairytolerantfa]

Sooo—I hopped on 9-1-1 kinda late. Like real late. But I binged the whole thing in a record time , and now I have a lot of thoughts and no one to yapp to . Mostly about Buck and Eddie because, yeah… (and what do you mean people are giving up on that so soon??)

First of all, I genuinely think they’re perfect for each other. There's something so nostalgic about them .the slow burn, friends-to-lovers, unspoken pining energy. They accidentally co-parent a child, finish each other’s sentences... am SAT

They seriously pulled me right back into my fangirl era—I’m obsessed. The humor around them is chef’s kiss, and honestly, these two dorks have become some of my all-time favorite characters.

I get what Oliver said about not wanting to fall into the whole “bi guy comes out and falls for his best friend” storyline. And honestly? I agree with him. As a bi person myself, I really want Buck to have a journey that feels unique—something that doesn’t follow the same narrative beats we’ve seen over and over. I want more weirdness, more complexity, more Buck-ness in his bi arc. Let him be chaotic and complicated and figure himself out in his own way.

But then again—if we’re talking representation? Eddie coming out would be huge. His story would speak to so many people. A Latino man, a father, someone with religious trauma who’s been shoving down every part of himself just to keep it all together? That storyline would be relatable to so many people in so many ways . And it would be different from Buck’s journey too. They could both explore queerness in completely different, powerful ways. And if that ends in them choosing each other?

am very delusional..wtvr

Now… Tommy(am afraid of his Stans pls don't shoot me 🤍).

I know people say he wasn’t a replacement for Eddie that evan liked him (maybe?), but tbh? I really think he was.yes evan is bubbly and honest, so “If he loved Eddie, he would’ve told him.” instead of turning to tommy who's also a guy?! But that’s oversimplifying it. Eddie is his best friend. He’s also the “straight guy” with a kid who’s never given Buck a clear signal. Buck has been navigating that dynamic with caution for years. He built this whole internal image of who Eddie is—what he can and can’t say to him.

If it really was love at first sight? Yeah, I think Buck would’ve said something. But I don’t believe it was (yes I saw the what a man intro.yes it's my ringtone .but no)I think he only really fell for Eddie when things were already complicated, and the pressure was piling up.

Tommy broke his heart, but he was honest. He saw that Buck was still tied to something else—someone else—and he didn’t pretend. I don’t think he deserves all the hate.??? If he’d stayed, it would’ve been fake. He knew it. Buck probably did too.and Am more than glad he's gone

And now? Buck can’t say anything to Eddie, not really. Because they’ve reached this place where everything between them is so much, but nothing is spoken. And Buck? Buck is scared. Scared to ruin it. Scared of being wrong.

(the couch theory! Are we as a fandom over thinkers and delusional? Yes . Tbh I think it's funny but not YET related to buddie. Now I guess the writers are aware enough of it soooo if they ever make buddie canon i think they could use that as a vision)

Anyway.

I hope chim survives this episode am having a mental breakdown aaaaaaaa we can't lose him 😭😭

[angelasscribbles]

Picture Perfect

Series: None, this is a one-shot and you can find those here.

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Drake x Riley

Rating: Mature

Warnings for this chapter: there's a tiny bit of lemon scenting. Also, they will be mean to each other. Curse words of course.

Word Count: 2,107

My other stuff: Master List.

The Duke and Duchess of Valtoria climbed out of the back of the limousine, the Duke wrapping his arms protectively around his wife’s waist. He angled his body between her and the crowd, as he always did.

Riley smiled and waved to the crowd as they made their way down the red carpet toward the charity gala. Drake smiled at her. The only attention he spared for the crowd was to survey it for threats.

This was not lost on the press. The rulers of Valtoria were beloved by their people. Partially because they both used to be commoners and everyone loved a good rags to riches story, but also because of the genuine love and affection they showed each other.

It was rare, after all, in this day and age to see such a high profile couple so obviously in love, so dedicated to each other. It was inspiring, and there had been a proliferation of articles about their once in a lifetime kind of love.

Every Cordonian woman dreamed of finding a man who looked at her the way Drake looked at Riley.

In interviews, they each gave all the credit for their personal successes to the other.

She laughed at all his jokes.

He opened doors for her, pulled out chairs and led her around the dance floor, staring down at her like she was the only woman in the world.

She straightened his tie for him and reached across the table to wipe crumbs from the corner of his mouth.

Yes, everyone agreed that they were the perfect couple. Perfectly in love.

Which was exactly what their carefully curated public image was supposed to convey.

Behind closed doors, the story was a little different.

Later that night, the limo pulled down the drive at the Valtorian estate and rolled to a stop in front of the manor.

The Duke exited first and reached back for his wife’s hand.

She took his hand and climbed out behind him, giving him a grateful smile then thanking their driver.

The couple made their way to the entryway as the limo drove away. He pulled the door open for her.

The duchess glanced back as she entered her home to ensure the car was out of sight, then she whirled on her husband, the well-rehearsed smile replaced by a mask of fury. “Did you get her number?”

He blinked. “Whose?”

“The fucking waitress you couldn’t keep your eyes off of all night! She sure found all your stupid jokes funny. Spoiler alert, you’re not funny.”

His jaw ticked. “Frankly, I’m surprised you noticed who I was speaking to at all, considering how much time you spent fawning all over Liam.”

“Oh, give it a fucking rest already. If I wanted Liam, I would have married Liam! I could have!”

“Yes, I know! You never miss an opportunity to throw it in my face.”

Her eyes scanned the foyer as they traversed it to ensure there were no servants within hearing. Couldn’t have their little tiff on the front page of tomorrow’s Cordonian Star, marring their image. A perfect picture with a broken frame, that’s what they were. “You what your problem is?”

“No,” he rolled his eyes. “But I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”

“You’re just pissed that I don’t need you anymore. I’m not some clueless waitress that needs your help. Is that your obsession with waitresses, Drake, huh? You need clueless women so you feel more powerful?”

“Jesus Christ. I was just making conversation! You left me alone at the table half the night! What was I supposed to do?”

“You’re supposed to not embarrass me, that’s what! Considering what I gave up to be with you, the least you could do is afford me some fucking respect!” She gathered her dress in her hands as she stormed up the stairs toward their shared bedroom.

She should make him move into another room. God knows there were plenty of them.

“Oh, yeah, what did you give up to be with me?” He already knew the answer, but now he was ready for a fight. She had a lot of gall to be pissed at him when he had to watch her flirt with his best friend all night.

“I turned down a literal king to be with you!”

“Oh, here we go with this shit again!” He bounded up the stairs behind her. “Don’t put that on me, Riley, you made your own choices!”

“I gave up everything to be with you!” She pushed into the bedroom and threw herself onto a chaise lounge to pull her ridiculously high heels off.

“What the fuck did you give up, Riley, huh? You still got every damn thing Liam promised you. A duchy, money, power. What exactly did you give up? Tell me that!”

“I could have been queen!”

“Queen,” he scoffed. “You didn’t want to be queen. That involves work. You got all the fame and fortune without having to do the actual work!”

“I work!”

“Yeah? Really? Doing what?”

“I run a duchy in case you haven’t noticed you fucking prick!”

“Max runs the duchy for you.”

“He’s my assistant!” She tossed the shoes to the floor and stood up to turn her back to him.

“Assistant my ass,” he fumed as he pulled her zipper down for her. “He does all the work! Remember the one budget meeting you went to? Remember when you were trying to prepare for it? You didn’t even know the difference between a fixed expense and a variable expense, I had to tell you. You would have nothing if it weren’t for the people around you. You’d still be waiting tables in New York.”

She jerked away from him and reached up to remove her earrings. “You’re one to talk. You’ve been riding Liam’s coattails your entire fucking life!”

Drake glared at her as he shrugged out of his jacket and clawed at his tie. “Oh, is that what I’ve been doing?”

“Yes, Drake, it is. If it weren’t for Liam, you wouldn’t have anything, including me!” The sentence was punctuated by the clatter of her seventy thousand dollar sapphire earrings clattering to the table top where she flung them.

His fingers froze with his shirt only halfway unbuttoned. He turned toward her incredulously and flung his arms out. “You think I wanted any of this? Liam did all this for you, not me!”

“You didn’t exactly drag your feet moving into Valtoria, did you? You sure let him make you a duke fast enough.”

His mouth fell open. “I did that for you and you know it!”

The laws and traditions in Cordonia made it much easier for the aristocracy to marry each other than to marry outside of it.

It was the entire reason Liam had made her duchess in the first place. Back when he thought he still had a chance to make her his queen.

Riley turned her back to him again as she let her dress fall to the ground and pulled on an old t-shirt. “Don’t act like you did it for me. You never loved me, you just wanted to stick it to Liam, remember?”

His brows furrowed in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“Isn’t that what you told me that day you said it felt good to win against him for once?”

The words hit him like a gut punch. He took a step toward her and laid a hand on her shoulder. “Yeah, no, that’s not what I—”

She shrugged out from under his touch and headed for the master bath. “It’s what you said.”

“Riley—” He sighed with a shake of his head as he finished undressing and changed into a pair of grey sweatpants and a Cordonia University t-shirt.

When Riley returned from the bathroom, face scrubbed clean and hair taken down, she found Drake standing at the drink cart pouring himself a generous helping of Macallan. He shook his head when he saw her and launched right back into the argument. “I became a fucking duke for you and you know how I feel about the damn aristocracy and all their bullshit!”

“Yeah, yeah, you’ve got it so rough.” She rolled her eyes and flicked her hand dismissively in the air. “Sitting here in my estate, drinking three hundred thousand dollar bottles of scotch and smoking imported cigars while my staff does your laundry and cooks your meals.”

He threw his head back and laughed. That laugh made her want to punch him in his smug face… with a baseball bat. “What?”

“Do you think I need you for any of that? I’ve got news for you, sweetheart, I moved out of a literal palace to come live here, and this whiskey is swill compared to the stuff they stock! Cheers!” He held the glass out to her with a mocking smile, then threw the drink back.

It went down smooth. He was pleased with himself for winning the argument until he saw the expression on her face.

Riley had had enough. She pulled open a dresser drawer and started throwing clothes onto the bed. “Get out.”

“What?”

“I said get out! Move into the room across the hall. You’re not sleeping in here ever again.” She stormed to the closet and pulled his luggage out, dragging the largest one to the bed.

Disbelief rooted him to the spot for a bare second, then fury exploded through his chest. He moved to take the suitcase from her. “Fuck that and fuck you! I’ll just move into my cabin!”

“Good!”

“Great!”

“I can call a butler to help you pack.”

“Don’t need one. Unlike you, I still know how to do shit for myself.”

“Whatever. Fucking asshole.”

She retreated to her favorite wingback chair with a glass of wine as he haphazardly grabbed items from the closet, the dresser, and the bathroom, not bothering to check if he’d gotten it all.

It wasn’t until he was dragging four suitcases to the door that panic started to set in.

When was the last time he’d been to the cabin? Was it dusty? Was the heat working? Was there food in the kitchen?

He could go to the palace, but then he’d have to explain to Liam why he was there, and that was the last thing he wanted to do. He was sure that Liam was just waiting for a crack in their relationship.

He could go stay with his sister, but then Max would ask him a million questions and probably head straight to Valtoria to comfort her.

Riley might not be aware of the raging crush Max had on her, but Drake was. No, he couldn’t go to Ramsford.

Would she file for divorce? Who would she hire? Most likely Rashad. That mother fucker was definitely interested.

Shit!

He couldn’t take it back now, though. He had some pride left.

He had just kicked the last suitcase out the door and into the hallway when he heard her voice.

“Drake, wait!”

Oh, thank God!

She cracked first. Now he could stay without having to admit that he wanted to.

He turned back to find her standing within arm's reach. He grabbed her arm and yanked her to him. His lips crashed down on hers. He kicked the door shut behind him, suitcases abandoned in the hallway.

She pulled back to murmur, “Drake, I’m so—”

“Shut up,” he breathed, as he swept her into his arms and carried her to the bed.

An hour later, they lay in the bed naked, sweaty, satiated. His back was streaked with blood from her scratch marks. Bruises bloomed like a necklace around her neck and along the top of her breasts. Her teeth marks stood out, red and angry, on his chest and shoulders.

His voice was rough with emotion as he pulled her body close to his. “I love you, Riley. I wasn’t flirting with that waitress.”

He had been, but it was just to boost his ego a little. It meant nothing.

“I know. I’m sorry. I wasn’t flirting with Liam either. I love you too.”

She had been, but it was hard not to. He was so attentive and charming. It meant nothing.

He pretended to believe her.

She pretended to believe him.

It was easier than facing their issues and insecurities.

She scooted closer to him, sighing as his arms tightened around her.

He had definitely been flirting with the waitress, but she pushed that out of her mind as she snuggled against him.

That was a problem for another day.

[itsahotminuteinbetween]

together.

days 19 + 20 of dcatober: Ruin and Trapped

[acesammy]

The thing about how sam’s arc in season 4 is often discussed is that people simultaneously acknowledge that the angels are bad, while claiming Sam is an idiot for rebelling against them.

like I have listened through three (3) rewatch podcasts and they always seem to fall into this loop of going ‘hey the angels are Obviously up to no good’ while also going ‘Sam is really stupid. Why would he trust a demon when literal angels are telling him to stop’

idk man. Maybe bc the angels are Obviously up to no good????

[aeolianblues]

pop stars aren't born in the 70s anymore like they used to be. These days they're born in a year uncomfortably close to my own which makes me clutch my chest and cry out