#I think they wanted to message privately.

[jockoppressor]

“That’s a whole lot of words” tells me you didn’t read them. You were invited to either 1) ignore my post if you think I’m exactly the same person I was seven years ago or 2) communicate privately instead of being creepy by crawling through nearly a decade of my blog to purity test my message about fascists wanting to exterminate the LGBT community. You want me to publicly engage with your grievance with me but you won’t publicly engage my grievance with you re: your social stagnation and seeming desire either to stir the pot or to exercise some sort of hostility you have towards gay people, so I guess we both have to not get our way today.

LGBT people, I need you to know that any “pedophile execution bill” passed in the US is meant to put you, personally, to death. When the right says “groomer,” they’re talking about you. When they say “predator,” they’re talking about you. When they say “pedophile,” they’re talking about you. Any actual child sex abusers who are convicted and executed would be, to them, a happy accident, a cherry on top of a law that’s meant to exterminate anyone who deviates from the cisgender, heterosexual norm.

[saintobio]

☆ sorry for disappearing…

when i decided to put my blog on private, it was the only solution i could think of to end my dilemma. a dilemma that sprung from the anxiety i get whenever i log into tumblr, realizing i’m keeping people waiting over an update that hasn’t happened in almost a year. i wish there was a better way to describe how i felt, but there’s just so much pressure and anxiety that accompany a writer who has an on-going series of a popular jjk character.

if you’ve been with me since 2021, you probably know the struggles i faced before i ultimately left my blog archived. back then, i never imagined i would return to running this blog. but it was my love for writing that brought me back, hoping i could start fresh as long as i knew how to set boundaries between myself and the people consuming my fics. and i could say, all was going well, until…

until i get daily messages about how it’s taking me so long to update a certain series, how i’m writing too much for another fandom, how i’m never fulfilling my promises of posting an update. it must be the trauma, but the unease of existing on tumblr began to build up inside me, reminding me of the days when i was made to feel like i did something wrong for simply posting. with that, i had grown paranoid, thinking that every time i check my notes, there would always be one or two person sending me the most ridiculous messages/comments.

i never realized just how much my experience in 2021 scarred me ‘til this day.

and the only remedy i could think of was to escape. or hide. or be unseen. for my peace of mind, for the silence. all while thinking no one’s really going to notice.

but logging in again made me realize that there are people i’ve disappointed for my sudden disappearance, people who wished me nothing but good things, people who genuinely supported me in and out of this blog, people who appreciate my works even if i’m no longer as active. to those people, i want to say i’m sorry, and that i assure you that i’m doing better.

however, i also hope that i’m not just seen as the writer who only wrote sincerely not. i hope that i’m given the same amount of support and liberty to write for characters and stories that i’m equally passionate about. wherever my hyper-fixations take me, i hope i’m not treated as if i’ve abandoned what my blog was known for. i never wanted to feel caged by writing only sn/sy. i need the space to explore other characters, other genres, before i lose myself in the pressure of just producing.

if you’re still here, thank you. i can’t promise to be fully back, but i’ll take it one step at a time.

love, saint.

[anghimalaaynasapuso]

DISCORD BOYFRIEND KÖNIG

sfw + nsfw. this is just an amalgamation of all my ideas

könig has never been one for putting his face on social media. even before the scars that pull at the skin of his cheek, reshaping his expression in ways he’s never fully grown used to, the idea of being seen, really seen, has never sat right with him. there’s a certain comfort in anonymity, in keeping the world at arm’s length. easier that way. safer.

that unease, paired with what some might consider his more nerdy interests, means he gravitates toward spaces like discord rather than the highly curated feeds of instagram or facebook. there, he doesn’t have to worry about photos or videos— just a username, and a presence in text.

his handle is simple: king 👑. a nod to the name he’s carried for so long, stripped of rank, stripped of weight.

even in the server where he’s most active, he keeps things vague, blending into discussions about games, military history, or whatever niche interest has caught his attention that week.

every now and then, he’ll let something slip— a mention of deployment, an offhand comment, disappearing for months at a time, only to return with a sudden burst of activity. some put the pieces together. most don’t. and könig prefers it that way. it’s easier to let them think he’s just another guy with spotty internet.

your first interaction is rather simple in retrospect.

he’s back after weeks of recon, shaking off the mission like dirt from his boots, easing into the familiarity of a gaming server he’s called home for years.

it’s not a small server, so new people come and go. he does his usual routine— an automated, slightly impersonal welcome but what he doesn’t expect is the sheer enthusiasm in return.

“hi!!!!”

he stares at the message for a second, counting the exclamation marks. three. four. five? a small smile tugs at his lips before he even realizes it.

it doesn’t take long before you’re at his metaphorical side, sending a friend request before the conversation even shifts from your college courses.

the older members tease him. something about his last deployment scrambling his head enough to take a newbie under his wing. he lets them talk. he doesn’t mind.

soon enough, you’re in his private messages, dramatically lamenting your latest loss in a game he’s only vaguely familiar with. könig listens— well, reads— as you rant, words spilling out at a rapid-fire pace, interspersed with keyboard smashing and increasingly incoherent frustration.

he’s not much for new releases, preferring to sink his teeth into a single game for months on end, grinding away until mastery is muscle memory. still-

one evening, without preamble, he sends you a link. his profile. in your game.

the response is immediate. ‘king!!! 🥺’ you type, followed by an onslaught of keyboard mashing that takes up half his screen.

he exhales a short laugh, shaking his head. he wonders if you know how easy it is to make him grin like an idiot.

the calls are… an unexpected development.

könig doesn’t make a habit to join server calls. ever. it’s not even about anxiety, not really, just preference. too many voices, too much noise. he never expected to be comfortable enough with anyone to want to be in a call, let alone initiate one.

but when you start gaming together, it becomes a necessity. typing mid-match isn’t exactly efficient, and you’re the first to point that out.

“okay, listen, king, i am not about to lose another ranked match just because you take five years to type ‘behind you.’” he huffs, amused, but relents.

soon enough, calls become second nature— no longer tied to gaming, no longer requiring an excuse. you always ask first, polite thing that you are, and könig always agrees. sometimes it’s an unspoken invitation, a simple “call?” sent in the quiet hours of the night. sometimes he beats you to it, pressing the button before he can think too hard about it.

one time, it’s you who calls. he answers on the first ring.

“are you- wait.” you pause, listening. there’s a distinct, rhythmic thud-thud-thud in the background. not footsteps, but something heavier, more controlled. “are you on a treadmill?”

“mm.” his voice is steady, unaffected. a quiet confirmation.

you gasp, and he can practically hear the amusement brewing in your tone. “oh my god! you actually work out? i thought you were lying.”

he snorts, breath hitching slightly as he adjusts his pace. “why would i lie about that?”

“i don’t know! you just- i mean, you sit at your desk all day, playing the same game for hours, and you’re always online at weird times-”

“you are describing yourself,” he points out.

“shut up.”

there’s a pause, and then, with the kind of mischief that only comes from knowing exactly how to push his buttons, you add, “prove it.”

he slows to a walk, swiping open his phone. a moment later, you receive a picture. him, flexing. the lighting is dim, but you can still make out the cut of his forearm, the solid shape of his bicep. just to humor you, he throws up a peace sign.

“not stolen from pinterest.”

you burst into laughter so sudden and bright that he finds himself smiling before he can stop it.

you learn what it means to miss könig pretty early on.

it happens suddenly. one day, he’s there, active as usual, sending the occasional meme, idling in voice chat even if he’s not talking. the next? radio silence. not even a ‘typing…’ indicator.

at first, you don’t think much of it. maybe he’s sleeping in. maybe he’s busy. time zones are weird. it’s fine.

but then a whole day passes. then another. you check his status— nothing. not offline, not do not disturb, just… gone.

curiosity turns into concern, and before you can think better of it, you ask in the server.

“hey, anyone heard from king?”

the response is casual. unbothered. “oh, dude’s probably deployed again.”

you blink. reread the message. “deployed?”

“yeah, king’s military.”

there’s no warning for the way that statement knocks the air from your lungs.

military? as in, real-life combat? as in, war zones and danger and actual life-or-death situations?

you stare at the screen, fingers hovering over the keyboard, unsure what to even say to that.

he doesn’t resurface for weeks.

you don’t realize how much you’ve come to rely on his presence until it’s gone. his absence is loud in the quiet moments of your day, in the spaces where a message from him would normally be.

you check the server out of habit, catching yourself before you can search his username. it’s stupid, you think. you barely know him. he’s just some guy from a discord server.

but the worry lingers.

and then, one day, just like that— he���s back.

his return is as unceremonious as his disappearance.

no dramatic entrance, no fanfare. just a simple “hello.”

you see it the moment he sends it. your stomach flips.

before you can stop yourself, you send a private message. “you’re alive.”

a moment passes. then— “yes.”

you frown. “you were gone for weeks.”

“i know.”

frustration bubbles up. “you could’ve said something.”

“i couldn’t.”

you hesitate, fingers tightening around your phone. you don’t know what you were expecting. an explanation? reassurance? but it’s clear you’re not getting one.

but then, a follow-up message. one that feels heavier, more careful. “i’m sorry.”

and just like that, the irritation dissolves.

it’s strange, the way things slip back into place after that.

he doesn’t talk about it, and you don’t ask. but something shifts. after that deployment, könig starts telling you when he’ll be gone. nothing in detail, really. just a simple, “i’ll be away for a bit.”

(it means everything.)

slowly, you get used to it. the rhythm of his presence and absence, the way your conversations pick up right where they left off, as if no time has passed at all.

it goes on for months. this… thing between the two of you. könig doesn’t hesitate to call it friendship, though he knows, knows, it’s something else entirely.

something with edges softer than companionship, something that lingers in the pauses between conversation, in the way you had whispered his real name under your breath when he revealed it to you.

he doesn’t rush to name it. doesn’t push. he lets it simmer until it feels inevitable.

in the end, it’s you who breaks first. technically. not that he’s keeping score. not that he would ever rub it in your face, especially when he was a mere day away from asking the very same thing.

it starts with a message. no preamble, no buildup. just a simple: hey, what are we?

könig sees it and reacts before thinking. presses the call button so fast his thumb practically smashes the screen. it rings once, twice—

“you didn’t even ask.” your voice comes through, half exasperated, half amused.

“didn’t want to give you time to unsend.” his own voice is steady, but his heart is anything but.

you huff. “bold assumption.”

“not really.”

a pause. he hears you shift, fabric rustling, the sound of you settling in. something warm and slow uncoils in his chest at the familiarity of it.

“so,” you start, hesitant. “what’s your answer?”

könig exhales, tipping his head back against his pillow. “do you want the truth?”

“obviously.”

he hums, considering. in reality, he’s known the truth for a while now. probably before you even realized it yourself.

“i like you,” he says, simple, sure. then, because he knows you, because he knows your deflections, your habit of teasing when you get nervous, he adds, “and i’m very aware you like me back.”

you sputter. “that’s a bold assumption-”

“not really,” he repeats, smug this time.

you groan, but you’re laughing, and it sends something bright flickering through him.

könig doesn’t ask for nudes. not once. he flirts, he teases, but never pushes. he knows your boundaries, respects them, never even hints at wanting more. if anything, he’s careful. too careful, sometimes. like he’s afraid of crossing a line you haven’t even drawn.

so when you finally send something, it’s your choice.

the first picture is tame. barely anything. it's a shot of your thighs, soft and warm in the low light of your room. nothing scandalous. nothing too revealing. but the second you hit send, your stomach twists with nerves.

könig sees it immediately. you watch the typing bubble appear, disappear, then appear again. and then— “fuck.”

you grin. “good?”

“you have no idea.”

it only escalates from there.

könig never requests more. but when you send it, when you want to send it, his reaction is worth it. he worships you through the screen, tells you how beautiful you are, how much he wishes he could touch you.

“pretty,” he texts once, attached to a voice message.

you press play. his breath is ragged, like he’s just run a mile. “pretty thing,” he repeats, voice tinged with something almost reverent. “you’re going to ruin me, love.”

the first time he sends you something, it takes him forever to work up to it.

you don’t ask for it. wouldn’t dream of pushing him into something he’s not comfortable with. könig isn’t shy, necessarily, but he’s private. you know that by now.

so when, out of nowhere, a picture pops up on your screen, your brain short-circuits.

it’s cropped carefully, but there’s no mistaking what you’re looking at— bare skin, broad shoulders, his stomach flexed just slightly.

“you like?” he texts after a minute.

you swallow hard. “yes.”

“good.” and then— “more?”

you bite your lip. “please.”

könig gets bolder after that.

he sends more. never too much, always teasing, always just enough to leave you wanting. sometimes it’s his hands, sometimes it’s his abs, the sharp cut of his hip bones, the waistband of his sweatpants hanging just low enough to make your mouth water.

one night, he sends a voice message instead. you press play.

at first, all you hear is his breathing. then, slowly, softly— your name, whispered through a noise that makes heat bloom low in your stomach.

“wish you were here,” he murmurs. “wish you could see what you do to me.”

the actual nudes don’t take long. not ar all. you’re both desperate. buzzing. könig’s the one who caves first.

it starts with your text. 10 p.m., the hour where inhibitions slip through grasping fingers like sand.

“wanna see your cock so bad, könig…” you murmur to your propped phone, cheek pressed to your pillow, another one stuffed against your chest like it might replace the hollow ache between your ribs. a distraction. a poor substitute.

on the other side of the screen, he exhales, dragging a hand down his face. fingers tensing, then flexing, like he needs something to hold onto. “love-” your whine cuts through before he can even think. instinctive. needy. his stomach clenches. “okay, okay. as long as you're sure.”

his heart pounds as he opens his photos. he doesn’t exactly collect dick pics, but there are a few kept locked away, private albums, a passcode he suddenly fumbles to enter.

three minutes. that’s how long it takes to choose the best one. the right angle. the right lighting. enough to make your breath hitch when you see it.

he hits send before he can overthink it, then leans back, phone balanced on his thigh, bottom lip caught between his teeth.

your phone buzzes. the photo pops up. you blink, breath hitching sharp in your throat.

“oh my god.” the words spill out of you before you can even think to stop them. “könig…” you stare at the screen, gaze locked on the thick, heavy length of him. the way it curves slightly, resting against his thigh like it’s weighed down by its own sheer mass. your breath stutters.

“you're so fucking big.” it barely registers that you've said it aloud.

“yeah? you like it?

“like it?” you shoot back. “i want it inside me.”

his breath leaves him in one harsh exhale. he shifts, hips rolling involuntarily like he can feel your words on his skin.

“can i see you too?” he sounds so polite. and then, as if that wasn’t enough to twist the knife deeper— “please?”

your stomach flips. you bite your lip, already reaching for your phone camera, the need to show him everything burning through you like wildfire.

your breath comes shallow as you slip your hand lower, phone steady in the other. the need is a pulse under your skin, throbbing, insistent. you pull the covers back just enough, the cool air prickling against the heat between your thighs.

the camera catches everything. your slightly parted thighs, your swollen clit, the wetness gushing out of your hole. it feels like baring a secret you’ve never told anyone. you hesitate for half a second, heart racing, then hit send.

the second the message disappears from your screen, it hits you— you just sent that to him.

on his end, könig freezes. the photo loads slow, torturous, and when it finally pops up, he feels his whole body tense, blood rushing south so fast it’s dizzying. “f-fuck, i need to be inside of you-”

sex with könig, if you can even call it that, at first, sneaks up on you. you never thought you’d be the kind of person who got into this. sending texts that made your face burn, leaving voice messages you could barely listen back to without cringing. but with him, it’s different. easier. less embarrassing because it’s him.

still, going from nudes to actual phone sex takes some time.

“gonna sleep,” könig texts you once, attached to a blurry photo of his bed.

“alone?” you send back, teasing.

the typing bubble appears. then disappears. then— “obviously.”

you grin at your phone, satisfied. but then— “but i could use some company.”

you stare at the message longer than you’d like to admit.

didn't tell him that you had woken up panting, arousal between your thighs, könig’s name on your lips too many times. didn't tell him that you had pressed your hand against your clit during your calls, to the sound of his voice, to his laugh, to the quiet, wrecked groans he sometimes lets out when he stretches after a workout.

in the past, you hadn't told him how many times you’d dreamt of him because you thought you'd scare him off, kept your mouth shut about the images that haunted you at night, of his hands pinning you down, his mouth at your throat.

but you wanted to.

and tonight, you would.

the conversation turns slow. lazy. heavy with something unspoken.

“you sound tired,” könig murmurs, voice warm. he’s always like this late at night. soft, unhurried, like he’s sinking into the sound of you.

you swallow hard. your skin feels too hot, too tight. “i’m not.”

a pause. then, lower— “what is it, love?”

you hesitate, pressing your lips together. it’s too much. too embarrassing. but he knows something is different.

“talk to me. tell me what you’re thinking.”

you let out a shaky breath. “i had a dream about you.”

the silence stretches.

you can hear him inhale. you bite your lip. force yourself to continue. “i think about you. when i-” you stop. you can’t say it. can’t admit it.

könig exhales through his nose, like he’s trying to steady himself. “when you what?”

your stomach is a knot of nerves. but you want this. want him. so you take a breath, close your eyes. “when i touch myself.”

his breath stutters.

“fuck.” the word is almost a groan. your pulse hammers, blood rushing through your ear as heat pools in your stomach.

“könig,” you whisper.

he exhales, whispers his next words like a beg, “say it again.”

you swallow. “i touch myself to you.”

“i do too.”

your stomach flips. “what?”

“i-” he cuts himself off with a quiet curse, like he's frustrated with himself for hesitating. “i touch myself to you too.”

your breath catches. heat blooms in your chest, spreading down your spine. “könig-”

“all the time.” his voice is lower now, raw, like he's aching with it. “when i can't sleep. when you're on call with me, laughing, teasing me. when i wake up hard in the middle of the night and can’t stop thinking about stuffing you full.”

your body is burning again, despite the aftershocks still rolling through you. you're about to choke out a reply when you hear it— the rustle of fabric, the faint creak of bedsprings, the wet slide of skin on skin.

“are you-”

a sharp inhale. “yes.”

“let me hear you,” you whisper, thinking about his pretty, pretty cock. uncut, soft skin stretched over the flushed head, the way it would slide back when he’s fully hard, revealing the deep pink of his leaking tip. the veins that wind down the length, standing out against the pale skin

there's a pause, a hitch in his breath. then, slowly— “okay.”

there's a small rustle, könig adjusting himself on the bed. the faint sound of him pumping lotion on his hand. a quiet sigh. and then, a low grunt as the warmth of his palm wraps around his cock.

könig looks down at his hand, eyes half-lidded, hips bucking up in small thrusts. he imagines your pussy instead of his fist, hot and tight and so fucking warm, fluttering around his length as he pushes in, spearing you open with a cock too big for your little cunny.

he knows you’d cry for him, little gasps and hiccupped moans, squirming beneath him as he bullies his cock deeper, past that tight ring of muscle into the slick, warm clutch of your cunt.

“a-ah- fuck, ah-”

your breath stutters at the sounds, hips grinding against your palm. “wish i could see you.”

“on cam?”

you groan, squeezing your thighs around the pillow in-between your legs, grinding your clit against the material softly. “yes, please..”

fuck, you're so polite.

[wosoloml]

crawling back to you II leah williamson x reader

warnings: toxic, hidden relationship, jealousy, angst

summary: After hiding their relationship for years because Leah was still in the closet, they eventually broke up. Yet, they always found their way back into each others lives.

wc: 1,3k I based on this request

"it´s been two years, Leah. Why are you still referring to me as your best friend and roommate to your teammates? You didn´t even tell Keira about me?! She's your best friend!" I yelled at Leah, more out of frustration than anger. I'm so tired of hiding this relationship, of hiding myself behind the 'best friend´ label.

leah being in the cloest was never a problem for me - for us. But since rumours about her dating her male best friend were a thing it as hard to keep everything private. Growing up in milton keynes it was hard to be openly gay.

"Y/n you know its hard for me to tell everyone we are dating. We both know how they reacted after Keira came out to them. She still suffers from it and i dont wanna experience it please undertstand that." leah tries to explain her situation to me and i wish i could understand her the way i want to. But im too hurt.

"I should understand you? Have you ever tried to understand me? I can't do this anymore, Leah. You deserve someone who can handle this - but I can't. I'm sorry, Lee. It's for the best if we break up."

I say the words with tears in my eyes, my voice barely holding steady. It's a hard decision, but itt's one I have to make.

Being with Leah from the time I was 14 to now, at 17, has meant everything to me. I'm so grateful for the past three years, but I just can't do this anymore.

---------

"Y/N, I BOUGHT US TICKETS FOR THE NEXT GAME AT JOIE STADIUM!"

My girlfriend's excited voice echoes through our shared apartment. It's been seven months since I moved to Manchester and three months since we started living together.

"I'm already excited!" I shout back while checking who City's opponent is. Of course - it's Arsenal.

It feels strange to be thinking about football again, especially after breaking up with Leah almost a year ago. But maybe she's not even playing anymore.

Little did I know, she's been captaining the squad for the past year.

Our seats are incredible, giving us a perfect view of the pitch. As the teams walk out, my eyes immediately land on the captain's armband wrapped around Leah's arm. A strange sense of pride swells in my chest. Playing for the Gunners - leading them - had been her dream since she joined the club so many years ago. Seeing her live that dream now brings an unshakable smile to my face.

My thoughts are interrupted when my girlfriend starts chanting loudly, her passion for the game contagious. For a moment, I forget my ex is even on the pitch.

I never told Sarah about my past with a certain blonde Arsenal player.

I could feel Leah's eyes on me the entire game.

A part of me wanted to tease her, so every time she came over to take a corner, I laughed extra loud at whatever Sarah said or kissed her deeply-just to make a point.

I wanted her to see what it felt like to be in a relationship that didn't have to be hidden. To know how beautiful it is to be loved loudly and openly.

Later that evening, my phone buzzed.

leahwilliamson wants to send you a message. My heart started racing. My eyes widened as I read her message.

'Cute little show you put on earlier today.'

I had no idea how to respond to that, so I just sent back a few question marks. It didn't take long for her to reply.

'The way you laughed extra loud at whatever that girl said. The way you kissed her while checking to see if I was watching. I don't care, Y/N' . My blood starts to boil.

----

"Y/N!!"

I snap out of my thoughts as my coworker calls my name. I hurry over to the counter, my eyes widening.

'Can you serve them? I need to make a quick call.'

I manage a nod, but then I notice here - Leah. Sitting in my cafe. With another girl.

I take a deep breath, forcing a polite smile. "Hey, what can I get for you?" I ask, keeping my tone professional.

Leah smirks. "ll have a matcha latte. And what about you, babe-?" She turns to the girl beside her. "A flat white, please. Thank you" the girl says with a warm smile.

I already don't like her.

"Give me one second"

I know exactly why Leah is here - to get under my skin. And it's working. But beneath the teasing, beneath the smug attitude, it just hurts.

Seeing her be so open, so affectionate with someone else. calling her pet names, touching her without hesitation - it stings in a way I can't ignore.

Whenever we were out together, she barely even said my name, let alone held my hand. Now, she's making sure I see how different things are.

Every time I glance at their table, Leah is already looking at me, eyes filled with something I can't quite place. But I do notice how touchy she is, how overly flirty she's being.

And it makes my blood boil. I text her 'now we are even'. Her eyes darkened as she read the message.

-------

The club was alive with loud music, the clink of glasses, and the smell of sweaty bodies. It was my best friend's 25th birthday, and we decided to celebrate it in our hometown, London. I was also hoping it would serve as a distraction from my recent breakup. After two years of dating Sarah, she ended things last weekend because I couldn't bring myself to tell her I loved her. It's not that I didn't care about her or that I wasn't in love, but things felt different. The only woman I will ever truly love is Leah. Forever.

Suddenly, someone bumped into me, spilling their drink all over my shirt. "Oh god, I'm sorry!" They said as I looked up, meeting their eyes. It was Leah. Who else could it be?

"I didn't know you were here" she said, sounding surprised.

"Yeah, it's Anna's birthday today, and I thought Id come back to London for the occasion" I replied. "What about you?"

Leah seemed taken aback by how easily I kept the conversation going. "Actually, we won the league today. It was the last game of the season against Aston Villa, and we won."

The conversation flowed naturally, and then, unexpectedly, she asked THE question.

"So, is your girlfriend here?" she asked.

"No,†I said "we are not together anymore." "Oh, really? Im sorry to hear that. Funny enough, my girlfriend broke up with me two weeks ago" she replied, a look of surprise crossing her face. I was stunned, my eyes widening in disbelief. The tension between us shifted, and an unfamiliar but unmistakable feeling of missing her washed over me.

After that, we kept texting and even FaceTimed a few times. The vibe was strange but oddly familiar, as though we had never stopped talking, despite having broken up over 3.5 years ago. Nothing had really changed.

---------

"Happy one year, baby!" Leah greeted me with breakfast in bed and the most beautiful bouquet of red roses. I couldn't have been happier with her by my side.

Even though she had a game on our anniversary , it didn't make the day any less special. I cheered her on from the 'Friends and Family' section, proudly wearing her name on the back of my Arsenal jersey. When she scored the winning goal, she celebrated by making a special gesture just for me.

Right person, right time.

[peachypinkygloss]

Hi, long time no see! I'm doing this post because I noticed a user named @chobunz stole multiple works from me. I wanted to work this out privately; I DMed them, but they deactivated minutes after my messages.

I don't know this person, never interacted with them before and they probably created their account after my post stating that I'm leaving @peachypinkygloss alongside with my other blog @crybabychim. I'm bringing this to light because plagiarism happens very often on this platform and on the internet in general and I don't think it's something that should ever be ignored. I'm not trying to make this into a drama; would never be my intention. But my fics have been posted as theirs and many people believed it was their writing because, of course, they stated it was theirs. I was an easy target because my works have all been in private for long and only available through reblogs of others, so the chances of getting caught were... little.

(screenshots under the cut)

They've stolen Sleepover (posted July 2023) that they renamed "movie night monday" (posted December 2024), an untitled drabble (posted September 2023) that they named "only you, darling" (posted January 2025) and another untitled drabble (posted September 2023) that they named "temptations" (posted January 2025).

top (them) bottom (mine)

For information, they also had another blog (@yerions) that they reposted my fics as aespa fics.

I unfortunately don't know if they have stolen from more people and we probably won't know as they deactivated. I only hope this post can discourage this person from ever stealing works from other people again. Please, if you want to be a writer on the internet, refrain from stealing from others even if you think you won't get caught. Those aren't your words and you shouldn't get praised for the work of others.

If you're another writer and see this, please reblog! I will disable anonymous asks as I don't want this to get out of proportion. My intention was only to bring awareness, and also call out the person that stole from me because... this isn't fair.

[marscantread7]

Idk where I'm going w/ this but mdni😭🙏🏾

But like, basically js imagining u finally convince all the LIs to have one crazy orgy w/ u. Like, honestly here's what I'm thinking.

Rafayel and Sylus would be like a little jealous and confused bc like??? 😭⁉️ ur my girl, wtf do u mean an orgy w/ 5 other men, two being ur childhood best friends???? But they live w/ the mindset of "if u like it, I love it ig" and they'd agree to it. They're both some really horny, freaky fucks and not to be on that cuck shit, but they'd lowkey really enjoy watching u get fucked by the other guys bc they're js freaky like that idk. And ngl, Rafayel getting passed around too, Sylus having the honor of fucking the brat out of him first😛😛😛

Caleb and Xavier would flat out refuse bc??? Bitch do u even know me😭⁉️ I'M CRYING AT THE SCANDALIZED LOOK THEY'D GIVE U. Like??? Bro ur insane for even asking that, genuinely. But then they think on it, and they're like actually tweaking out, Xavier crashing out the worst, but then it's like... lowkey it might be kinda hot... bc like... idk they freaky like that too. Like honestly, as long as they can constantly touch u at any point or u touch them, they might be able to handle it. I can imagine Caleb and Zayne bumping heads for whatever bs reason, and Xavier side eyeing Sylus the whole time. Rafayel and u wondering wtf these niggas got beef for when y'all not even naked yet😭⁉️ I imagine Xavier would also be passed around too tbh.

Zayne would honestly be the most chill w/ it. Like, "Is this what u really want?" And ur js like, "I mean, it'd be cool to have u all in the same room, doesn't necessarily have to be sex." And he js shrugs and is like, "Nothing against ur other friends, but I think we should all use protection." And u readily agree😭🙏🏾 anyways, Zayne would be chill w/ all of them. He thinks Rafayel is a little annoying, and he doesn't quite know where tf u found Sylus at, and he's almost asked to check Xavier's vitals like 20 times within the first fice minutes, but they're cool. Where his problem lies is Caleb... bc why is bro tryna size him up??? Buddy we were childhood friends too what😭⁉️ I think Zayne would eventually get sick of it and put Caleb in his place bc let's be honest... Zayne topping in that relationship, let's not be dumb...

Anyways, let's js say evb would leave w/ e/os numbers and a gc would be made, private messages would be sent, secret link ups that really aren't that secret bc all these niggas suck at lying😭😭😭 especially Rafayel. "Hey raf! I didn't give u that hickey?" "A turtle bit me." "Okay man."

And if this ends in one giant poly relationship then well. Uhm. Idk man, that's between y'all and God or smth idk💀💀💀

--------------------------------------------------------

Oh yeah, and in this, u don't have an established relationship w/ any of the boys. Ur literally friends w/ all them and js so happen to be a little more than friends and u decide to spice things up😛😛😛 js silly thoughts that I have😭😭😭 ik some of these might be ooc, but it's js lil headcanons and thoughts LMFAOO

[princessmaeee]

All for Us Part VI _ Final Part Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V

Hello Sweeties ! So as I saw in the votes, you asked for this L A S T par of this story, so there it is ! It's not that long cause I didn't had much to say. I just wanted to do a beautiful and simple end cause I think both deserve it. It wasn't a long Story, but it was long compare to everything I wrote in the last years and I'm proud of myself ! I realised later than the title is kinda bad cause I just made a bad translation from the french but the good title should be '' Everything for Us '' but I will let it like it is cause, Why not. My first Fanfiction in years, my first fanfiction I finishied since my highschool years ( 11 years at least ) and my first published Smut in Years too. Overall I'm proud of myself and I wish I will do more other stories and I hope to be able to finish them all. Thanks to everyone who followed and Love this story. I hope to see you again for other ones !

Tags : @private-vampire - @rafesbunniebby - @ultracoolnobody @chxrrybomb22

You didn't remember what happened after you voted to go home. It was the majority of you. You remembered Thanos voting X too, but after the light off, everything was fuggy. When you opened your eyes, you were on the dirty ground where you were picked when you joined the game. You had a blindfold, well you guessed it was it, who had felt it on your neck. Your feets and wrists were tied up and you could feel the cold breeze of the night. Those bastards let you in underwear in the middle of a street. Luckily for you, You noticed your clothes close to you and after a moment, trying to untie your wrist, you quickly do the same for your legs before putting on your clothes. 

Your phone was in the pocket of your sweater and of course, it ran out of energy. Your apartment keys were still in your jean’s pocket. 

You felt tired and durty. A good bath and 24h hours of sleep is going to be well deserved, but first, you need to check on something.

You go to the nearest convenient store and put your card in the ATM to take a look at your account. Your heart was racing in your chest. What if it was just a dream ? What if they lied ? 

Even if you didn't felt right to be happy, you couldn't stop smiling when you noticed the big amount of money you had in your account. Tears of joy appeared in your eyes, slowly cascading on your cheeks. Finally, The suffering and anxiety will be over. A hand on your stomach, you smiled at it.

«-I promise, You gonna have a beautiful Life…»

Once you got home, as you expected, the door locks were smashed. The guys who were chasing you for money probably entered the apartment while you weren't there.

Stressed, you opened the door and you felt sad to notice how everything was destroyed. This didn't look nice anymore, but you still have to stay there, at least until you could join Thanos or even that guy who messed up your apartment to give him the money. 

Plugging your phone to the charger, you start to clean around as much as you can. 

After a moment, when your house was clean enough for the energy you had, you go back to your phone and noticed a lot of unread messages from the guy who landed you money. Unsure, you text him back a simple ; I have your money. Let meet up Tomorrow.

You also get a Message, well, many, from Thanos. He seemed anxious about you and the baby.

“-Had you made it home yet ? “ -23h07 “-You can come to my place if you want “ 23h12 “-Or I can come over “ -23h13 “-Princess Are you all right ?” -23h20 “-I Got the money from the game. I can send you some if you want. “ -23h22 “-I know your debts are all my fault anyway…”-23h22 “-Seniorita Please answer me. Are you alright ? Is the baby’s fine ??!! ”-23h25 “-If I don't get an answer I'm going to show up at your place ! “-23h33 “-Okey I'm coming !! ” -23h45

You looked at the time : 23h55.  You smiled and answered him 

“-I'm fine, my phone Ran out of power. No need to come over. Go at your place and rest “ - 23h56 “-I want to rest with You. Gonna bring snack. What do you want ? Ice Cream and Pinault butter ?”-23h58 “-Im Fine!! And of course Not, I don't have  any weird pregnancy cravings. “-00h00 “-Not Yet ;) Anyway, still on my way…with snacks”-00h08

Your smile never left your face. Thanos was always really caring with you but somehow you feel like it was different this time, like he really made an effort and it made you happy.

When he arrived, he opened the door as you were still cleaning up the apartment. He looked around, visibly confused by all the mess around.

«-What happened here ? »

You explained to him the problems you got cause of your debts who’s also his or cause of him. Thanos felt bad you had to go traught all this cause of his addiction and helped you to clean as much as possible. Once everything was less messy, you both enjoyed some Snacks he bring and that’s when you realised how hungry you were. He bought you some of your favorite Ramen, chips and little cake. 

He also gave you an envelope with money. It was the exact amount you need to give to the guy you will meet tomorrow. He apologized and insisted you keep it. You felt touched by this and accepted his money.

«-I really want you to keep the money you get from the game for our child. And for Yourself, of course.  -What about your own debts ? -I will figure it out. And I still have some left so don’t worry about me. I want to go back to music and earn money of my own. I want to make you and our child proud. And for something else… -Something else ? Like what ? A home ? It's pretty expensive. -Well, not for a home, but it could be a plan for later. The other thing dépend more on your decision. -which is ? »

You both were sitting on your bed and Thanos got up  to kneel in front of you, gently taking your hand in his. You looked at him, breathtaking. Your heart stops beating for a second before it starts to beat faster. You could feel your eyes feeling with water.

«- Y/N would you accept to be my wife ? »

You were too shocked to answer. Tears flowing from your eyes as you just quickly nod  your head. It wasn't the romantic scene you always dream of, but coming from Su Bong it was the most romantic thing he ever did. Even if you were both exhausted, still in debts and even if you didn’t have a Ring for you, yet, this moment felt the happiest of your life. You throw yourself in his arms, still crying as you repeat ‘’ Yes ! ‘’ Again and again. Su Bong smiled and held you close, gently caressing your hair.

«-My dear and Beautifull Wife, He said before kissing you. »

This relationship with him was a total rollercoaster of emotion, but your love for each other was just too strong to let you away from each other. Faith does good things, sometimes.

The next day goes well, you got rid of your debts, Thanos started to go to therapy to avoid touching drugs again, so did you.

You moved In together, he worked on new music, new songs, starting to slowly go back on stage while you went back to school. You dropped one year ago but you chose an option you really like. It wasn’t easy with the pregnancy and Had to do a lot of school classes and take more time.

Life with your Now, fiancé wasn’t alway easy. When he felt the side effect of always being sober you fighted a lot, but at the end He apologies and you were understanding considering all the efforts he did for you, the baby and your relationship. Sometime, you fucked to avoid fighting or when Su bon needed a big high. He said you were his new addiction and even dedicated you to a song where He talks about how much He loves you and how you changed his life.

Eventually, you gave birth to a beautiful Daughter. Su bon said once he really would like to have a boy, but when He hold his little baby daughter in his arms for the first time, he almost cried and didn't let go of her. He quickly became over protective with her. He also wrote a song about her and it became a great hit. That’s how He were able to afford your engagement ring.

Your life goes back on track and you feel happy despite what you had been taught with the game. You and Su Bong got a matching tattoo with the number you were during the game as a sort of memorial for the ones who died in there but also as a reminder to yourself to be careful with your money and every decision you will take, cause you never want to live an experience like that ever again.

[gatheringbones]

[“Feeling empowered is a group effort, because in order to be able to assert yourself, you must feel safe enough to do so. A date once told me that when he teaches yoga, he declares that backbend rules are orgy rules: a maybe is a no. I like that because in both an orgy and yoga, you’re in a heightened and strange state. You’re already pushing past a lot of standards for what your body and consciousness can ordinarily do.

Yoga teaches you to be aware of and listen to subtle body messages. Pushing too hard can result in injury, which will limit you from sustainably being able to enjoy the activity long term. So if your body tells you, “I’m not sure how this backbend is feeling right now,” just don’t do the backbend. And if someone at the orgy says, “I’m not sure if I want to play with you right now,” move on with grace. There are so many other poses you can try.

Buffet was a queer play party I went to a couple of times in 2018 at a legendary Brooklyn performance art space known at different times as the Spectrum and then the Dreamhouse. Their rules were printed out and posted in the foyer where you waited in line before taking off your street clothes. They explained they had dungeon monitors (DMs) wearing pink glowing bracelets. DMs are present less as rule enforcers and more as community accountability figures. The hosts were clear about what kind of play was prohibited (race, scat, guns), the kind of play that required a DM’s permission so they could keep a close eye on psychological intensity and mess (blood, piss, food, CNC, self-suspension, gags).

Buffet had a great breakdown of what consent meant in their space: “Do not stalk, lurk, stare, follow, badger, pressure, or touch anyone without permission.” They also had a very specific anti-oppression stance: “If you perpetuate oppression based on gender identity or expression, race or ethnicity, ability, HIV or STI status, body type, sexual or BDSM orientation, religion or spiritual path, you’ll be thrown out without a refund. (However, if you come to us crying about reverse racism or misandry, we *will* laugh in your face.)”

I loved Buffet’s gender policy. Many women- and trans-focused play parties simply exclude cis men in the interest of creating a “safe space.” While a private party can have whatever policies they want, I personally think excluding one type of person is a mistake. You cannot have any clue how many abusers are around you, how many dysfunctional relationships, how many people being petty or shallow or anything you would disagree with or disapprove of. And when we exclude men from spaces where revolutionary communication is being practiced, they’re not learning how to do it right.

Buffet had an ingenious approach to this issue. Their policy was all-gender, but cis men had to pay $100 entry as opposed to much smaller fees paid by others, and were given a mandatory dress code of underwear, fetish gear, or femme drag. The hosts also provided the chance to be vetted on a “Good Judy list” to waive the $100 fee. The result was discouragement of interloping creeps while embracing the kinds of men who would contribute to the party’s unique atmosphere and people who appreciate having those men around either to play with or as friendly allies. Anyone prepared to go through these humbling paces is more likely to be the kind of guy the other attendees would be happy to have there.”]

tina horn, from why are people into that? a cultural investigation of kink, 2024

[ratsvalley]

So I’m working on carrot chapter 3 which means I’m definitely not gonna be able to draw this out for a while but consider the following for a Coalectra Valentine’s oneshot…I can’t write so take my ramblings.

YES THEYRE ON MY MIND ALL THE DAMN TIME I CAN NEVER GET RID OF THEM

This headcanon is also surprisingly fluffy this time…

-I like to imagine Electra employs their components for any time of social interaction, whether it be gift giving, invitations, or even ordering food. (Hmmm possibly hinting to Electra having social anxiety hmmm)

Back to gift giving, Electra is rich, meaning they can and will spoil their partners with lavish expensive gifts. And they always get their components to deliver them.

-When it comes to Porter they’ll get him things that they think would suit them, like new clothes (they don’t like to admit it but they get very giddy when they see Porter wearing them). They also give him dark chocolates (they’re both dark chocolate enjoyers you can fight me on this) and little cakes throughout his shifts. Porters not a huge sweets guy but he’ll gladly eat them if Electra bought them.

-And it’s always the components who deliver them, usually under the guise of “an important order from Electra that you should very urgently attend to.” Then they pull him into an abandoned alleyway to give him the gift. It was a little frustrating at first, not having Electra to thank for these gifts but Porter would get used to it eventually.

-He wasn’t the richest freight around, so getting Electra good gifts was impossible. Every so often he’d be able to save up a paycheck to buy them something nice, which they would deliver to them IN PERSON

Oh also my friend @rowansro came up with an idea that Porter gave Electra a little pet rock once and now I’m inclined to believe Electra keeps it in a cupboard to take out and hold fondly when they break up. Cause like it or not, they miss him.

-Back to the present… it’s Valentine’s Day and Electra wants to be the one to deliver Porter’s gift in person. They’re inwardly cringing when they realize they want to do something they consider sappy and sweet but oh god just imagining the look on Porter’s face as he opens his gift is enough to motivate them.

They decide to surprise him in the middle of his shift, which alarms him and the other freights. They’d never expected THE Electra to show up while they’re working, and the side eye Slick, Lumber, and Hydra give Porter when they ask to speak in private is LOUD and MASSIVE.

-Now despite Electra’s initial willingness, they find now that they are UTTERLY TERRIFIED upon the realization that they didn’t think of what to say. Usually Killerwatt thinks of something on the spot or they’ll just relay a premade message, but of COURSE they had to deliver it themselves when they didn’t even plan on what to say.

Porter on the other hand is positively melting at the idea that Electra actually took time out of their day to hand him a gift, he notices how nervous they are and immediately thanks them for delivering the gift. Now Electra has to swallow their pride and let Porter do the talking for both of them as they regain their composure.

And yet, all they can think about was the look in Porter’s eyes when he saw them walk in to hand him a gift. Such a small gesture, something that shouldn’t be this fascinating to anyone…and yet it made him happy. So obviously they need to do this more.

[anomaliex]

I think Riz Gukgak is someone who worries a lot.

I think he locks the door, unlocks it, then locks it again just to be sure that it works and he isn't accidentally locking himself in. I think he goes inside and kicks off his shoes and loosens his tie and then comes back to the door just to make sure he really did lock it. He unlocks it then he locks it again. The lock is still working.

I think when he gets dressed he readjusts his watch one, two, three times to make sure it's secure. I think he does and undoes his tie twice not even because he thinks it isn't right the first time, but because that's what he always does. I think he starts avoiding eye contact with his mirror image but still makes sure to walk past any mirror four separate times just to make sure Baron isn't watching.

I think he double, triple, quadruple checks every text message before he sends it, two more times if it's an email. He doesn't want to include a typo, or accidentally send the wrong message, or reply to the wrong thing, or have clicked the wrong emoji. What if he looks stupid, or rude, or accidentally sent gore, or accidentally said something sexual without realising, or accidentally said something threatening without realising, or accidentally revealed private information, or did something else that is equally likely and not ridiculous and also would be unfixable and horrible if it did happen.

I think Riz knows where every piece of furniture and decoration in the apartment or his office is, I think he notices if anything's been moved even an inch and then he gets worried because someone was there and he did not see and his skin itches and the nausea crawls up his throat and he knows so deeply that something is wrong. Maybe all his paranoia is just an excuse and he just doesn't like that something is different now, he doesn't know, it feels wrong. I think his mum can tell him that she just moved the coffee maker because she had to un- and replug it and now it's a few inches to the left of what it was before, she didn't notice but she knows that it bothers him, she's sorry. I think it doesn't help.

I think that despite the fact any of his workspaces look cramped and unorganised he shuffles and re-shuffles and re-reshuffles everything until it's exactly where he wants it and if someone moves even a thing he has to do it all over again. I think it frustrates him but he does it anyway.

I think that Riz can see a clue in everything. I think the Night Yorb is an extreme example of something that happens to him very often. I think that he's so obsessed with finding the truth that he forgets himself, sometimes. I think that sometimes he makes up things to be worried about and then spirals because of them and creates bad situations for himself that wouldn't have existed were it not for him convincing himself that he realised some kind of truth. I think it's scary to be Riz, sometimes.

I think Riz counts the days, hours, minutes, seconds until something bad happens. I think he believes no moment in time to be safe unless he makes it safe. I think that doesn't even particularly distress him, I think that's just a base thought he operates on and never really questions. I think the second his ability to "make sure" is disrupted the panic sets in and his skin crawls and he feels like he'll vomit. He might vomit. Then he's distressed.

I think Riz counts the seconds when someone he's spending time with excuses themselves to the bathroom, I think he takes note of it when they take longer than they usually do. I think he worries that something horrible will happen to them the second they leave his sight. I think he doesn't know what that horrible thing is. I think he knows how often someone chews a sandwich because he watches, and that he worries they might be sick if they divert from their average too much. I think he knows the passwords to their phones not because they told him but because he memorised the patterns their fingers moved, I think he doesn't want to be invasive but he needs to know in case of an emergency. I think he doesn't know what the hypothetical emergency could be, but it might happen and he'll know when it's there.

I think that Riz worries, and watches, and counts, and checks, and worries, and I don't think he can stop. He doesn't want to, but if he did then he couldn't.

I think that sometimes he talks to his mother and he sees teeth ripping her throat open, and he doesn't say a thing about it but he figures there has to be something deeply wrong with him, and he fears the reality that keeps forcing itself into his mind at random.

I think that he talks to his friends, sometimes, and then he sees them having sex with a partner and his whole body shudders and he feels himself vomit in his mouth a little. I think he sees a lot of things for just a few moments at a time that are so abhorrent to him and they're the last thing he wants but they keep popping up in his brain as if the Gods decided he needs to be kept in line with a healthy dose of silent shame and a constant reminder of everything that could be if he doesn't make sure that everything is safe and good and fine.

I think that Riz thinks, and worries, and thinks, and worries, and checks, and counts, and watches, and worries, and sometimes he forgets to breathe.

Anyway completely unrelated here's a link about obsessive compulsive disorder!

Yeah idk I think I made my point. Riz ocd real.

[solargeist]

Hi i was the feral dog anon! I was going to send this on anon but I then was like idk, maybe they'd want to answer the ask privately, who knows, anyways I wanted to know if you were cool with fans of ur art stuffs dming you about said stuff or if you preferred just asks!

hallo !!! i'll answer this publicly actually, in case anyone else wondered ?

My direct messages are only for mutuals, but my inbox is always open for anything really !! Whether art, fandom, whateverrr.....

I don't always answer every single thing tho, my inbox hovers around 100 messages so to avoid spam i only answer some of them. Sometimes I hold on to requests for a rainy day, so they may collect dust depending...... but i'll... get around to it !!! I also don't typically answer every singleee.... compliment... i appreciate them but sometimes theres several that'll say the same thing, and i don't want to spam people's dash or come across as bragging--but i do read them !!! hearts !!!!!! luv and peace

i also have a Q&A tag !!! #artist lore

my only rule for my inbox is: no spamming, like, tons of messages in a short amount of time, i will block people over this--after a warning. But talking often is typically fineeeeee

hope this makes sense !!!! and sounds normal ?? I like asks !! no worries ! i think its hard to get on my bad side or anything, and even so, i don't hold grunges

[jessiicalange]

Long story short, here we are and I could take you away from certain actress that wanted to steal your heart via DMs or however they call the messages in that social app. After this weekend, I want nothing but spending day and night with you, I couldn't be more grateful for these days with you, I'm sorry, I'm not letting you go to your place, you're staying with me at my apartment until someone makes you go back to work. Sadly, I could use Cate's help to spy on you, but she will be in London, who should I ask to watch after my bad girl while I'm away? Ryan?

PRIVATE: This feels special, it means you want this because you want me, and you love me with such intensity that you'd do it with me...do you want to know something? I'd do it for you and with you. I changed my mind and I think some kind of special union with you would be sublime. We're serious, and we're official now, but why not celebrating our commitment as we celebrate everything else? -That dress was meant to be, meant to be honest and tell you, i would be the happiest woman ever if I ever get to see you in a wedding dress ready to say yes to me forever. what could happen? just celebrate, get wedding gifs, and have a honey moon after an apotheosic party with our closest family and friends.

Nothing. Simply nothing, my love─ listen, does my theory still stand if we all managed to get lost in the crowd and love in the air in Miami ? i'm gonna say yes. So, if you're gonna spy on me through "her" I'll be purposely bad, no i'm kidding. I think you might’ve shaken her a little bit, but hey, that's for you to find out lady, and information for you to then pass along to me...i do wish we could've stayed longer, but considering i'm back in NYC for a little longer, i'm prepared to make it worth your wile until europe steal you away form me.

PRIVATE: So it really is just some major mind shift nobody talks about. I mean, i know it was equally personal for you; and it's never that the idea just magically popped in there....it's always been there, but it was like before i could easily brush it away and know i of course, had and have everything i ever wanted. So It's not even about "wanting more" or thinking it's not "offical" or anything. I think, to make sense of it all to myself, i like the idea of celebrating us, mixing the classic ideals with the modern, doing it our way . I'm still working it out, so bare with me...you, certainly make a good case there ! It was a pretty magical dress, huh ?

[swampybogg]

[djotime-allthetime]

Freaky Red Carpet

synopsis: your final red carpet appearance with fred for gladiator ii. (your first public appearance as a couple?)

wc: 4k+

warnings: rpf! reader is specified to be inexperienced!

a/n: same general vibes as the last one but more introspective ig, but we go into more specifics here as well as some backstory.

italics are supposed to be comments under tiktok clips of the premiere. feedback is writer's fuel!

cross posted on AO3

<<previous part

The screams and chaos of the premiere crashed over you as you stepped out of the car, a security guard’s hand reached for yours to steady you. This was it, the final big event. Even though it wasn’t over just yet, the nostalgia was creeping in, soft but persistent.

“Hey, pretty girl.” Fred’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts. He stood only a few steps ahead of you, having just arrived himself. Your gaze softened, lingering on Fred, oblivious to the cameras snapping away. “You look…” His gaze dipped once—then again—tracing your figure. A soft, unguarded smile tugged at his lips, as if he didn’t realize he was doing it. As if he was completely enraptured by you. “You’re stunning, you know that?”

The ability to speak escaped you for only a moment, the words caught in your throat. “...Fred, you can’t-”

“No, I’m serious.” He shook his head, eyebrows raised. He walked forward and placed his hands on your shoulders, holding you in place to continue studying you, as if he was in awe. “Look at you.” His eyes finally found yours again. “You’re gorgeous, y/n.”

“Thank you.” The words felt stronger than your voice. You weren’t insecure—you knew you looked good tonight. But having someone say it like that—having Fred say it like that, like he couldn’t even keep the thought to himself—it nearly brought you to tears.

A deafening roar of cameras and voices dragged you back to reality. The glow of flashing lights blurred at the corners of your vision, and distant shouts of your name cut through the haze. You straightened your posture instinctively, smoothing invisible creases in your dress. But Fred could see it. He could see that small moment you tried to keep to yourself.

“Hey, come here.” He spoke softly, less of a request and more of a warning of the oncoming embrace. He pressed his hands between your shoulders blades once you settled into him, chin hooked against his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

You shook your head vehemently, the silky smooth finish of his suit rubbing against your neck. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”

“I made you emotional.”

“You always make me emotional.” You chuckled, voice light to keep the tears at bay, unsure why they even came in the first place. “You look incredibly handsome tonight.” 

“Yeah?” He asked, his smile and excitement clear in his voice.

“Of course.” You pulled away and jerked your chin at his outfit. “We’re almost matching.”

With a quick second look at the color scheme of your outfit compared to his, Fred’s eyes lit up. “We are!”

“I think Grant and Leslie set us up.” You squinted your eyes conspiratorially. “I heard them talking about ‘all black looks’ yesterday.”

“Really?” He raised his brows at the information. “Come to think of it, Leslie refused to even entertain any of my suggestions today.” Fred laughed it off and reached down to hold you. His hands smoothly slid down your arms until they arrived at your hands, interlacing your fingers together. “Come on.” He tilted his head toward the carpet behind him. “Walk with me.”

“Down the carpet?” You gawked, frozen in place as he gently pulled you in the direction of the flashing lights.

“Yeah pretty, down the carpet.” Fred chuckled like you were joking. “It’s why we’re here, isn’t it?”

“You wanna take pictures with me? Like us- together?” You whispered to Fred, not fully paying attention to the cameras already catching every moment. As Fred’s hand tightened around yours, you realized.

You weren’t exactly hiding this—not entirely. Your blossoming relationship, that is. Keeping things personal and quiet felt right for both of you. But this—walking a red carpet together—had never been part of the plan.

“‘Course I wanna take pictures with you.” Fred answered, eyes soft but certain. “We worked super closely on this movie, y/n. I don’t think people will over analyze if we take pictures together on the carpet.” He shrugged. His words meant more than that, though. You knew he meant that you could do whatever you wanted. That you shouldn’t limit yourself in your relationship just because you wanted boundaries. Keeping it private didn’t mean keeping it a secret, like you were doing something wrong. 

“Besides, you’re my Lovie.” His voice softened, almost shy, like he wasn’t sure if you’d still claim the title in front of all these people.

Your neck grew warm at his words.

Lovie.

That was the name you and Fred called your deliberately unnamed character throughout filming. Caracalla called her ‘my love’ almost exclusively in the script. So it became your quick shorthand between each other. And soon after, the rest of the cast and crew called your character that as well. But it was different with Fred. After a while, it stopped being her name for him. It was you. You were his Lovie.

“Oh- Okay, yeah.” You nodded at Fred, accepting the idea of walking the carpet together, though still slightly apprehensive. 

“Yeah?” He asked again, just to make sure. And with another nod from you, Fred’s victorious smile lingered as his hand settled on the small of your back, sending sparks up your spine. “Gotta show off my girl,” he murmured, his hand pressing a little firmer into you. You weren’t sure if he wanted you to hear that or not, but you did. The way Fred could unravel you, seemingly without even trying, felt wildly unfair—like every tender gesture was second nature to him. 

He led you up the crimson steps, where the carpet shimmered beneath camera flashes and distant voices blurred into a roar. Your name and Fred’s were being called from every which way. Before you could stand still and face a specific group of photographers, Fred moved away from your side all of a sudden, his steps quick and fluid. 

“Fred?” you asked, instinctively glancing over your shoulder.

“One second.” His voice was low, nearly lost in the noise. When you turned, you saw Fred at your other side by your feet. He crouched smoothly to get closer to what he was after. The train of your dress. It wasn’t that long, but the small trek up the stairs had it all misshapen. With precise movements, he tugged at the fabric to position it into place. After he straightened it out sufficiently, he stood back up and stepped around his handiwork to come back at your side, arm looping around your waist to pull you back into him.

“You didn’t have to do all that.” You looked up at him through your lashes as your hands came up to rest against his chest. You adjusted his lapels in a subconscious attempt to return the favor, brushing away the imaginary lint on his chest and shoulders. Fred visibly blushed at your words, your hands on him, the way that you were looking at him, all of it. You displayed your emotions in a way that even he couldn’t dismiss. Not that he would want to. He loved it. Every moment. Being cared for so openly made his heart flutter and his ears turn red, it was exhilarating.

“I wanted to.” He reassured you, head nodding down softly, a subtle attempt at getting closer to you.

A piercing shout of your name followed by a burst of blinding light shattered the quiet moment.

The soft bubble you and Fred had built around yourselves burst, replaced by the harsh glare of cameras and the relentless hum of the crowd.

You dropped your hands from Fred’s chest, suddenly aware of how close you were.

But Fred’s hand stayed where it was, anchoring you in the thrashing waves of it all.

You turned this way and that, following the voices of photographers as they shouted out different poses they wanted to see.

“I could get used to this.” Fred spoke quietly, leaning down to whisper into your ear. 

You frowned in confusion and turned to look at him. “Which part exactly?” You asked. 

“Having the prettiest girl in the world on my arm.”

“Was this your plan tonight?” You couldn’t hide your grin no matter how hard you tried. “To kill me with compliments?”

“Not a bad way to die, no?” Fred furrowed his brows in faux seriousness, his mouth twitching in that way it did, a twinkle of mirth in his eyes.

You rolled your eyes with a giggle. “You’re a horrible man, Fred Hechinger.”

‘idk if they’re together or not and i want to be respectful but theyre literally the cutest people ever and if its true then theyre perfect for each other 🥺 truly wish them the best’

‘the mouth thing he does is actually the cutest thing ive ever seen’ ↳ ‘hottest. i think you mean hottest.’

‘look at the matching outfits!! i can’t! theyre too frickin cute!!!’ ↳ ‘its just all black lol y’all read into things too much 🙄’

‘we need a lip reader up in here 🗣️🗣️’

‘we love a man who knows the importance of the dress’

‘how does she just look better and better at each public appearance?!’

‘this is flirting one million percent’

‘either theyre together or theyre idiots, because this just might be true love’

‘we can’t assume that every interaction in hollywood means something more than it is, give them the privacy they deserve!’

‘what are they SAYINGGGG?!!?!’ ↳ ‘it definitely looks like he said ‘prettiest girl in the world’ there at the end, right?? call me crazy, but i can see his mouth moving so clearly it has to be it!’ ↳ ‘you’re definitely crazy, but also you’re definitely right’ ↳ ‘you’re right!!!! isn't that so relationship goals??’

Towards the end of the carpet, the rest of the cast were gathered to take a group photo. Paul saw the two of you approaching and his eyes lit up. 

“Took your sweet time, didn’t you?” He teased the two of you. “Been waiting all night!”

“Sorry,” you ducked your head as you confessed, smiling sheepishly. “Entirely my fault. I came late.”

“Ah, come here.” Paul laughed as he brushed it off and pulled you into a hug. “You look stunning.”

“And you’re handsome as ever.” You returned the compliment.

Paul pulled Fred into his side once you withdrew. You saw him whisper something into Fred’s ear, and Fred laughed and whispered something back, but you couldn’t quite make any of it out. 

When Fred pulled away, you shook your head at him with furrowed brows and pursed lips. A small way of asking ‘What was that about?’ Fred smiled and shook his head, ‘Don’t worry about it.’

“Alright, you two!” Paul clapped his hands, breaking the moment. “Picture time!”

“Do I look okay?” You turned to Fred, hand coming up to make sure your hair was in place. You were facing him now, your colleagues to one side of you and the expanse of the carpet on the other side. 

“You always look perfect.” He answered, eyes struggling to stay on yours. Always dipping down to your neck, your shoulders, your waist. He had to get a hold of himself, he thought. 

As you raised your arm to make sure your earrings were on properly, one of your bracelets snagged at the neckline of your dress. Nothing had happened yet, but if you moved in the wrong way, you’d have a horrible wardrobe malfunction on your hands. A soft ‘Oh!’ escaped you as you realized what was happening. Fred’s eyes darted from yours to your hand, where your eyes were fixated on something.

“What happened?” He mumbled as he quickly moved you with his hands on your elbows and simultaneously stood in front of you, making sure the scene was as difficult as possible for the cameras to capture.

“My bracelet’s stuck,” you explained, eyebrows furrowed and eyes zoned in on the tangle. 

His hands quickly covered yours, gently moving your fingers out of the way. “Here, let me.”

You rolled your eyes with a laugh. “You’re like my own personal assistant today.”

“Yeah?” He asked with a small smile, still working on your bracelet, glad that you seemed to be enjoying yourself even now.

He was a bit worried about you today, especially after he initially saw you at the entrance to the carpet. He knew the high of working on this project was coming down for you and he wanted to be there to support you through it all. 

“Mhm,” you nodded, “first the train of my dress, now this. What next? You’re gonna pull out a powder puff and take care of the shine on my forehead?”

“If this suit had big enough pockets, I’d pull out a plane and fly us out of here.”

“Where would we go?” You laughed.

“I don’t know, the Maldives? Russia? The moon?” Fred laughed with you as he pulled your hand back down, your bracelet and your dress back to their previous intact positions.

“Well, I already told you two that I want to go take pictures.” Paul’s voice broke the bubble that seemed to continuously form around the two of you. He stood next to you and placed a hand on your and Fred’s shoulders. “Hate to ruin the moment, lovebirds, but there’s only so much time before the movie starts inside.”

Paul pushed the two of you towards the spot prepared for the photos. Ahead of you was the rest of the cast, all lined up. Pedro Pascal, Connie Neilsen, Joseph Quinn, and Denzel Washington all stood together chatting and laughing. Paul went and stood next to Pedro, and Joseph made room for Fred between him and Denzel. You slid up next to Paul, feeling like it was the best fit for you between the group of people without causing another shuffle. 

Paul scanned the lineup, eyes flicking between you and Fred when his eyes narrowed slightly. “This won’t do.”

Without another word, he began casually nudging people aside, muttering something to Pedro, giving Joseph a knowing look. Slowly but deliberately, he carved out a space beside Fred.

A space for you.

“There. Much better,” he smirked, stepping back to admire his handiwork. He placed a firm hand on your shoulder and pulled you into place.

Your cheeks burned as Fred grinned and tugged you closer into his side. Joseph smiled knowingly at you and draped an arm across your shoulders.

Paul darted back to his place and in turn the cameras flashing intensified.

‘paul fred and y/n seem like such good friends i could cry 😢’

‘we all know paul has tiktok and hes in the loop, this man knows exactly what hes doing to us fred x y/n shippers’

‘HIM FIXING HER DRESS LIKE THAT? TOMDAYA 2.0! THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT THE WORLD NEEDS 😩’

‘guys! a lip reader figured this one out! paul: ‘you’re smitten and you’re not being subtle about it’ and FRED SAID ‘who said i wanna be subtle?’ IS HE NOT THE CUTEST BOYFRIEND IN THE WHOLE ENTIRE WORLD?’ ↳‘paul ships it, he’s on our team’ ↳ ‘and he was telling her how good she looks at the other end of the carpet, did you see?’ ↳ ‘at one point he even says ‘you’re my love’ and i just about melted’ ↳ ‘no he said ‘lovie’! that’s what caracalla calls her in that one scene! NO SPOILERS GUYS!!!’

‘FRED THE MAN THAT YOU ARE!!!’

‘i can’t tell if i want y/n or if i want to be her’

‘paul making sure y/n is next to fred during the group photo’ ↳ ‘did you see how joseph looked at them!! everyone ships these two!’ ↳ ‘goes to show how literally everyone is rooting for these two’ ↳ ‘so true! they’re the cutest couple ive ever seen i feel like a proud mom’

‘first he fixes the train of her dress, next he helps her when her bracelet gets stuck, then what? huh? i die? is that what these two want from me?’

‘never getting over the cast making sure theyre next to each other in the group pic, theyre so loved’ ↳ ‘you mean paul specifically lol’

After a few pictures were snapped, a coordinator in charge of the media coverage told you to reshuffle. They wanted a few photos of Fred with Joseph and Denzel, and some of just the two of them. Some of Connie and Pedro, and some with Paul as well. A mixture of photos that represented their work together on screen. And of course they wanted some of you and Fred, and some with Joseph. And the last group on the list was you, Fred, and Paul.

When Paul came to join you, he placed his arm across Fred's on your lower back, both of their hands now landing on either side of your waist. “Hey,” He smiled warmly at you. “You alright?” 

You hummed in confirmation. “Thank you for that, back there.” You tilted your head to the side, knowing Paul would understand that you meant how he made sure to put you next to Fred in the group photo.

“I have no clue what you're talking about.” He smirked, eyes fixed forwards on the cameras. But his hand squeezing lightly at your waist told you otherwise. He was so perceptive when it came to you, making you feel like you were an open book. It brought you back to a day on set. A long time ago. When the concept of you and Fred was something you were too afraid to talk about out loud in fear of ruining the magic of it. Your relationship was on the precipice, the very edge of friendship before the ocean of something more.

The day, you had confided in Paul about the very thing that led him to do what he did only moments ago.

~

“You guys are cute.” He had said, catching you admiring your lock screen. It was a picture of you and Fred on a picnic blanket. Paul had taken it the day before. Everyone on set thought it was a nice idea to have lunch outside. The weather was perfect, the grass was green, and there were butterflies everywhere. You and Fred took a blanket for yourselves, to no one’s surprise. 

It was the next day that you were sitting with Paul on the set of the Colosseum and he showed you the picture he took of you. You quickly changed your phone wallpaper after he sent you the photo at your request. It wasn’t anything fancy, his film was still getting developed, though he promised you loads of pictures from that once it was done. This picture was just taken on his phone camera, but it was just as beautiful to you. He was so talented with cameras, capturing each moment beautifully you could almost hear it.

“Thanks.” You replied, avoiding his eyes. It felt strange—this fragile stage of something new unfolding under so many watchful eyes. But you knew that would be a sacrifice that you’d have to make. Especially with how slow you were going with Fred.

“Does it make you uncomfortable?” Paul asked. You hummed in response, asking for elaboration. “Us watching?”

“What do you mean?” You asked, needing further explanation. He couldn’t read your mind, could he? Was he really asking about the same thing you were thinking of? Were you that easy to read? Maybe to Paul, you were.

“I know you guys are taking it slow,” Paul said softly, like it was a secret he wasn’t supposed to know. Your eyes lifted to meet his. “Fred told me.”

“He talks to you about me?” You asked, your smile evident in the tone of your voice.

“Always.” He replied, smiling just as wide as you unknowingly were. You and Fred were some of his closest friends on set. You all had the same sense of humor and attitude towards life, it was easy to find companionship with the two of you. And he wasn’t surprised that you two found love within each other. But he worried about it at times. “He always talks about you.”

“All good things, I hope.” You chuckled quietly, the smile ever growing on your face as you thought of what Fred might tell Paul in your absence. Maybe he mentioned your weird obsession with stuffed animals, or how you clung to his arm whenever the two of you went for a walk.

After a beat of silence, you remembered his question and your brows knitted in thought. “Why would it make me uncomfortable?”

Paul inhaled through his nose and looked out onto the bleachers ahead of you. “I don’t know… It’s just that- I don’t think I would be comfortable in your position, is all.”

“Why is that?” You knew how you felt about it all, but you always explained away your emotions. A bad habit, you knew. But you were genuinely curious and wanted to hear a somewhat objective opinion on this whole situation. 

“Just feels so-” He looked back at you now, studying you. Hoping, even, to see something telling in your expression at his confession. “Exposed, in a way. Raw. Like these feelings that really only one person should know about are on display to everyone around me.”

“Says the guy who had a first date on a live stream.” You retorted, the playful jab coming quick to mind.

Paul shook his head with a chuckle. “You know what I mean, dickhead.”

Your head cocked to the side as you thought of his words, truly taking them in. “I guess it does kind of make me feel strange.”

“Yeah?” Paul’s brows raised, appraising your face once more.

You nodded with a hum. “I’ve never- I mean, I’ve never really had a proper relationship. I don’t think I can even call this one a proper relationship. Not yet, anyways. And when I really think of it, it does feel a little unfair that what I always thought would be intimate and private is on display like this.”

“I’m sorry.” Paul spoke morosely.

“It’s not your fault.” You smiled softly, placing your hand on his. 

“Feels like it is sometimes.” He admitted. You shot him a questioning look. “‘Cause of the pictures.” He explained. “I just want to capture the moment. For you guys, not for anyone else. But whenever I point a camera your way, it’s like I’m pulling everyone’s attention to you with it. I feel guilty whenever you two are having a moment and everyone’s staring. You’re not doing anything wrong.”

“I think we’re asking for it a little.” You huffed out a laugh, squinting in the sun. The underlying bitterness in your voice didn’t go unnoticed by Paul. “It’s a bit dumb to try and start a relationship in an environment like this. Months on end on one set with the same group of people. It’s annoying to have everyone’s attention like that, but everyone else probably thinks we’re annoying too.”

“No, don’t say that.” Paul shook his head, his eyes sharp as he shot down your self-blame. “You don’t plan out relationships in advance, that’s not how things work. We’re not like normal people, we don’t get to clock out and go home when time’s up. We’ve moved to fuckin’ Malta, we film day and night. We eat, sleep, and breathe on this set. And if something like that does happen, where would you even hide it? You can’t! Not that well anyways… You guys are doing this well. Better than most.”

“You think?”

“Yeah, I do.” He nodded with certainty. “And I… I didn’t know this was your first relationship. I’m sorry. It’s not fair to you.” He apologized again and your heart squeezed. 

“Yeah.” Your lips pressed together in a combination of agreement and embarrassment. “But it’s okay. To answer your question, I mean. I don’t think- I don’t feel uncomfortable.”

“No?”

“No.” You shook your head. “He makes me feel safe—like I’m home. Like we’re in a bubble where nothing bad can happen.”

~

Tucked into Fred’s side, surrounded by the cameras and the noise of the final premiere, you felt that same comfort—like you were in your own bubble with him. There were still interviews, panels, and endless appearances ahead, but this moment felt like the end of something special. And you were grateful that Fred was here, anchoring you through it all.

next part>>

[eowyntheavenger]

I’m so happy! The publication took my article—AND THEN POSTED IT ON THE FRONT PAGE! :)

[foldingfittedsheets]

Eeeeee!! An absolutely lovely person sent me the headphones on my wishlist as a graduation present!

I’m so fucking jazzed! My ears are really sensitive, I absolutely can’t insert earbuds and most over ear types aren’t as nice. I’ve been using a cheaper over ear set that’s falling apart and makes my ears hurt with extended use. I got to try a friends bone conduction ones though and they were awesome but I couldn’t afford them.

Now I have my own pair and I giddily set them up this morning! They’re so comfortable and the sound quality is amazing. Let’s hear it for the bones!