#I’m not the best with backgrounds but this will do

[ivyues]

Cold Hands, Warm Hearts: Stray Kids’ reactions to their S/O always having cold hands

Bang Chan

The soft hum of music played in the background as you sat back on your boyfriend’s bed, scrolling absentmindedly on your phone while he worked on his laptop beside you.

Chris reached out absentmindedly, his fingers brushing against the back of your hand. His hand paused. Then, he touched your hand again, this time with more intent.

His brows furrowed as he turned to look at you. “Are you cold? Do you want me to turn the AC down? Or do you need a hoodie?” He was already shifting like he was about to get up and grab something for you.

You felt your face get warm. “Chris, stopstop, it’s fine—” you stammered, covering your face with your sleeves. “I’m not even that cold.”

A small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he leaned back, watching you with amusement. “You sure?”

“I’m sure!” You peeked at him through your fingers, only to see the teasing glint in his eyes. “My hands are just always cold.”

He reached out again, this time taking your hand properly and wrapping his fingers around it. His grip was warm, steady, and familiar. “Well, even if you won’t take a hoodie, at least let me warm your hands for a bit.”

Your heart skipped a beat. He wasn’t even doing much – just holding your hand – but the way his thumb gently rubbed against your skin made it feel so much more intimate. You wanted to melt.

Trying to ignore the way your stomach flipped, you huffed. “You’re so annoying.”

Chan only grinned, his dimples appearing. “Yeah, yeah. But you love me.”

And, well… he wasn’t wrong.

Lee Know

“Tch.” Lee Know shook his head as he noticed you rubbing your hands together for warmth. But before you could defend yourself, he grabbed one of your hands, his warm fingers wrapping firmly around yours. Without a word, he shoved both of your hands into the pocket of his coat.

Surprised, you glanced up at him, but he was already looking ahead, a faint dusting of pink on his cheeks. “I swear, you’re a hassle,” he muttered, tugging you along with him as we walked.

“You’re the one who grabbed my hand,” you teased, enjoying the warmth that spread from where our hands were joined.

Lee Know scoffed, squeezing your fingers lightly. “Yeah, well, I don’t want to hear you complaining about having cold hands again.”

With that, he picked up the pace, his steps quicker than before. You stumbled slightly, trying to match his speed as he dragged you along.

“Minho, why are you walking so fast?!” you gasped, struggling to keep up.

“You were walking too slow before,” he said simply, glancing at me with a smirk. “And you're warming up this way.”

“I swear, you just like making me suffer,” you muttered under your breath as you tried to match his strides.

Lee Know let out an amused chuckle but didn’t slow down. If anything, he tugged you closer, ensuring that even as he sped up, our hands stayed firmly together in his pocket. The warmth of his hand, the way he stubbornly held onto me despite his teasing, made my heart race a bit faster.

Lee Know turned his head slightly, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Nah,” he said, squeezing my fingers again, “I just like keeping you close.”

Changbin

“Binnie~” you cooed, snuggling closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder.

He chuckled at your tone, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you even closer. “What is it, baby?” he asked, amused.

“I just love you so much,” you said sweetly, peppering his cheek with soft kisses. Your fingers traced small his arm as you sighed dreamily. “You’re the best boyfriend ever.”

Changbin’s heart melted at your sudden burst of affection. He adored how cuddly and cute you could be, and he wouldn’t trade these moments for anything. “Aww, what’s gotten into you?” he teased, though he was clearly enjoying the attention.

“I just wanna love you,” you giggled, wrapping your arms around his torso. You nuzzled into his neck, your lips brushing against his skin as you whispered, “You’re so warm.”

And he was. That was the whole point. Because, unbeknownst to him, your hands were freezing.

You slowly slid your hands under his shirt, pressing your icy fingers against his warm back.

“AH—!” Changbin jolted, his entire body tensing as he let out a strangled yelp. “Y/N, what the—?!”

You burst into laughter, holding onto him as he squirmed. “I was cold!” you confessed between giggles. “And you’re so warm, Binnie~”

He whipped his head around to glare at you, but his pout only made you laugh harder. “Wah.. All that cuteness—just to attack me with your freezing hands?”

You pouted, batting your eyelashes innocently. “But I love you…”

Changbin groaned, but his ears were red, and you knew he secretly enjoyed your antics. He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer to warm you up without you sticking your hands up his shirt.

Hyunjin

The moment you stepped back into the room after washing your hands, you found Hyunjin sprawled across the couch, his limbs taking up the space. The soft glow of the room made his features look even more delicate. But the pout on his lips told you something’s up.

“Love,” he whined, stretching his arms. “Come here.”

You raised an eyebrow, walking closer. “What’s wrong?”

He let out a dramatic sigh and shifted to sit up, looking at you with those warm brown eyes that never fail to make your heart race. “My face feels puffy,” he mumbled. “And your hands are always cold. Can you put them on my face?”

A soft giggle escaped your lips as you shook your head at him, but your heart melted at the request. “You just want an excuse to be pampered, don’t you?”

Hyunjin grined but doesn’t deny it. Instead, he pat his cheeks with a finger. “Please?”

Rolling your eyes playfully, you stepped closer and placed your hands on either side of his face. The instant your cold fingers made contact with his warm skin, he shuddered dramatically, letting out a satisfied sigh.

“Ohhh, that’s nice,” he murmured, leaning into your touch. His lashes fluttered shut, and for a moment, he looked completely at peace.

You couldn't help but smile, your thumbs gently brushing against his soft skin. “You’re so dramatic.”

Hyunjin cracked one eye open, smirking. “And yet, you love me for it.”

You laughed, but he’s not wrong. Leaning down, you pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, and his arms immediately wrapped around your waist, pulling you onto his lap.

“Now you’re stuck,” he humed. “Gotta stay and keep my face cool.”

Han

Han had invited you out for a late-night stroll after practice, claiming he needed fresh air – and an excuse to see you, as he later admitted with a sheepish grin.

Walking beside him, you glanced at him curiously as he wordlessly pushed his sleeve down over his hand, wrapping it in the fabric until only his fingertips peeked out. Then, in an exaggeratedly careful manner, he reached his bundled-up hand out towards you.

You blinked. “What… are you doing?”

He didn’t meet your eyes, feigning nonchalance. “What do you mean? I’m just, y’know… offering my hand like a normal boyfriend.”

You stifled a giggle, eyes flickering to his sleeve-covered fingers. “Are you scared of my hands?”

“I am not scared,” he insisted immediately, though the slight pout on his lips told another story. “I’m just… preparing myself! Last time felt like grabbing an ice cube straight from the freezer. I have to take necessary precautions.”

Shaking your head fondly, you took his offered hand, feeling the warmth of his palm even through the fabric. Han let out a small, satisfied hum, as if proud of his clever solution. After a few moments of walking in silence, he finally glanced at you from the corner of his eye.

“Not bad, right?” he murmured.

You squeezed his hand lightly, your cold fingers pressing against the soft material of his sleeve. “Not bad at all.”

Han grinned. “Good. Because I plan to keep holding your hand all night – and without dying.”

Felix

Felix had always been an affectionate person. But every time he tried to lace his fingers with yours, you always found a way to avoid it – adjusting your bag, fixing your sleeve, pretending to check your phone. At first, he thought it was a coincidence, but after months, he knew better.

And so, one evening, he decided to ask you.

"Baby… Can I ask you something?" His voice was soft, uncertain.

You turned to him, slightly caught off guard by his serious tone. "Of course."

"Why don’t you ever hold my hand?" He looked down, fiddling with the rings on his fingers. "I’ve tried so many times, but you always dodge it." His eyes flickered up to meet yours, warm and a little nervous. "If you don’t like it, you don’t have to, I promise. I just… wanted to know why."

Your stomach twisted with embarrassment. You hadn’t meant to make him feel rejected – it was the last thing you wanted.

"It’s not that I don’t want to," you admitted. "It’s just… my hands are always cold."

Felix blinked. "Cold?"

You nodded, rubbing your palms together. "Like, ridiculously cold. Ice cube levels. I just figured… it wouldn’t be pleasant for you." You hesitated before adding.

For a moment, Felix just stared at you, his expression unreadable. Then, without warning, he reached for your hand.

"Felix—"

He took it in both of his, his warmth instantly wrapping around your fingers. He squeezed lightly, as if to reassure you.

"You weren’t making me uncomfortable," he said firmly. "I just want to hold your hand because it’s yours. I don’t care if it’s cold."

Seungmin

Seungmin lounged comfortably on the couch with you, his phone in one hand and a lazy smile tugging at his lips. Setting his phone down, he reached into his hoodie pocket.

“Ah, here,” he said simply, tossing something at you.

You barely managed to catch it, blinking down at the small, round object in your hands. It was a hand warmer, soft to the touch, with a cute puppy face printed on it. 

“Where did you—?”

“Just take it,” he interrupted, leaning his head back against the couch. “I swear, every time we go out, you’re always complaining about how cold your hands are. This way, I won’t have to hear it anymore.”

Despite his teasing tone, there was something undeniably fond in his expression, in the way he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, as if checking to see if you liked it.

Your heart did an embarrassing little flip. You turned the hand warmer over in your palm, unable to stop the small smile forming on your lips. “It’s a puppy,” you pointed out, amused.

“Yeah, well, you like cute things,” Seungmin shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “And you’re basically useless when your hands are cold, so it’s a win-win.”

You scoffed, tossing a cushion at him, which he dodged effortlessly. “You could’ve just admitted that you’re being nice to me.”

“Don’t get used to it.” But his voice was light, and the corners of his mouth twitched as if he was holding back a real smile. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

Then, with a teasing glint in his eye, he added, “But don’t you dare forget it the next time we go out.”

I.N

It was freezing outside, and despite being bundled up, the cold still seeped through your fingers. Your boyfriend was sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table, scrolling through his phone, completely unaware of the mischievous plan forming in your mind.

A smirk crept onto your lips as you slowly inched closer. You knew he hated the cold, and his reactions were always priceless. Silently, you slipped behind him and pressed your freezing fingers against the warm skin of his neck.

“AHH!” I.N practically yelped, his whole body jerking as he scrambled forward. He whipped around with wide eyes, hand clapping over his neck as he stared at you in betrayal. “Yah! Why would you do that?!”

You burst into laughter, clutching your stomach. His pout deepened, and he crossed his arms. “That was so mean,” he whined.

Still giggling, you reached out, but he flinched away dramatically. “No! I don’t trust you anymore,” he huffed, scooting further from you.

“Aww, come on,” you teased. But before you could get any closer, I.N lunged at you, pinning you down as his fingers found your sides.

“No—AH! Stop!” you squealed, writhing under his relentless tickles. You kicked your legs, trying to escape, but he showed no mercy.

“If you get to mess with me, then I get to mess with you,” he laughed as you gasped for breath.

“Okay! Okay! I won’t do it again!” you cried between giggles, tears forming in your eyes.

I.N finally stopped, letting you catch your breath. He sat back with a triumphant smile

You glared at him playfully, rubbing your sides. “This isn’t over,” you muttered under your breath, already plotting your next move.

masterlist

[yandere-daydreams]

exhibit #4 - tickling.

an installment of the freak shit march gallery showcase.

pairing: yandere!dick grayson x reader (dc).

length: 1.6k.

warnings: non/con touching, mentions of kidnapping, explicit disregard of consent, tickling, prolonged captivity, and obsessive/delusional behavior. dead dove: do not eat.

You weren’t entirely sure how you ended up in this position.

Being held in an underground facility for an indeterminable amount of time, you were starting to grapple with. It helped to think of it as a kind of witness protection program – the city’s ever-expanding network of criminals wanted you dead and buried, Gotham’s most prolific gang of vigilantes wanted you alive and able to provide testimony at an upcoming trial, and the best place to keep you in the meantime was one of the many tucked-away safe-havens they apparently had, where only the damp chill and occasional lost sewer rat would be able to find you. It wasn’t that bad. Your temporary living space was more similar to a high-end apartment than a war bunker, and someone was almost always around to keep you company (even if you could survive without the taller, angsty-er Robin’s board games).  If there’d been a few more windows, you might’ve been able to get used to it. You were still looking forward to getting home, of course, but you knew why you were here.

How you’d ended up tucked against Nightwing’s chest, his arms locked around your midriff and his face buried in the back of your shoulder was… less comprehensible.

‘Bonding time’, he called it. There was a movie playing in the background – some b-rated flick meant to make you scream and flinch and melt further into him – and he’d cornered you in the bedroom, insisted that both of you would be more than comfortable on your twin-sized mattress. Of all the bats, he was the most determined to treat you more like a little sibling than an endangered civilian. Part of it (most of it, even) was guilt. He’d been the one to find you in the back of that big, white van; the one to suggest putting you into hiding to the others. Of course he wanted to make you feel comfortable. If you didn’t, he would be the reason why.

You just wished his bids for your forgiveness were a little less tactile.

The leading lady let out a cartoonishly high-pitched scream as the killer’s axe broke through the ridiculously thin door of her bathroom, and you felt Nightwing’s hand flatten against your stomach, prepared for you to startle and shrink, ready to draw you closer at the first sign of a reaction. It took everything you had not to roll your eyes. A shirt that read ‘Sorry I got you sort of kidnapped, please tell me I’m a good hero!’ would’ve been more subtle.

Sighing, you started to push yourself up. He was quick to stop you, of course, drawing back without loosening his grip. “Going somewhere?”

“Mhm. I just need to—” A half-eaten bowl of popcorn sat on your bedside table, an untouched glass of water next to it. You could say you needed to use the bathroom, but you’d already used that excuse, too. Less than ten minutes ago, in fact. “—stretch my legs. I’ll be back in a second.”

He hummed, one of his hands falling to your side, where your oversized shirt had ridden up to expose skin. “If you’re feeling restless, you can say so. I’ll talk to B about moving some gym equipment in – let you burn off some steam while I’m gone.” He paused, laughed. “Or I could be your personal trainer. Promise I’ll go easy on you n’ everything.”

Your tense smile faltered. Great.Then he’d have yet another reason to put his hands on you. “Mr. Nightwing, sir, I’m really just—”

“I’ve told you,” he cut in, tone light and saccharine and so incredibly grating. “You can call me Dick.”

“I really don’t think I should know your real—”

“I don’t mind. It’s only fair, since I know yours.”

“That’s different.” It really wasn’t. You hadn’t wanted him to know yours, either. “I’m sorry, but I really just need a couple of minutes to—”

Again, you tried to pull away, and again, he stopped you. This time, though, the effort was hasty, sloppy, and his fingertips brushed against the tender skin just above your hip in just the wrong way. Before you could swallow it back, an airy giggling slipped past your lips – more reflex than anything. Immediately, you stopped moving, and Dick did the same – his hand clamping down around your waist.

You tried to speak, but he was faster, his delight blatant enough to be audible. “You’re ticklish?”

“I’m not.” And then, more defensively, “It hurts and I hate it.”

He didn’t respond, but he didn’t let you go, either. His hold on you shifted, one arm wrapping around your diaphragm while skirting his freehand along your lower stomach, his touch nearly too light to be felt. Your reaction was instantaneous, humiliatingly so. A crooked smile, a fractured laugh followed shortly by an awkward, painful wheezing sound. You threw your elbow into his chest, but he ignored you, only nuzzling into the nape of your neck. “Yeah, I can tell how much you hate it.”

He was practically dripping with that self-congratulatory, faux-sympathetic confidence. You grit your teeth, biting back a comment about Gotham’s heroes and their faulty sense of mortality, but it was a waste of breath. He was already moving onto his next target – the inside of your thighs, clamped shut as soon as his hand started veering in that direction. That didn’t matter. All it took was the pads of his fingertips grazing over that hyper-sensitive junction for you to lose your composure, kicking out blindly as you coughed up a sound that swung closer to death gasps than laughter.

Dick didn’t seem to mind. When he laughed, it was light, chiming, genuine. He propped his chin on your shoulder, watching your expression as his hands moved over your stomach, your sides, your midriff. “It’s cute,” he muttered, only half-focused on what he was saying. Most of his attention was dedicated to touching you, tickling you, making sure you didn’t have time to breath in-between thrashing fits – let alone resist. “And it’s good to see you lighten up. I don’t think you’ve smiled since the day we met.” Your recollection was swift, spotty. Darkness, adrenaline, terror, and then, relief, light, a smiling face. You couldn’t remember anything beyond that, not beyond what’d been told to you later on. You couldn’t remember whether you’d been happy to find yourself in Dick’s arms, or devastated that you were still being held at all. “You could afford to let your guard down a little, you know. It’s not like any bad guys are gonna be able to find you here – not with me looking out for you.”

 “I don’t—” It was awful, not being able to spit out a coherent string of words without your own dysfunctional body cutting you off. It was awful, knowing he wouldn’t listen even if you could. “I’m not afraid of any—”

“Of course you aren’t. Not when I’m here to keep you safe.” His voice had taken on a strange drawl, blurring around the edges. You felt him shift against your back, his hands leaving your body for one merciful second before finding your shoulders and jerking you onto your back, the motion forceful enough to knock the air out of your lungs. You were never going to get used to it; the freakish strength, the inhuman speed, the bizarre flexibility that meant he was on top of you long before you’d had the chance to catch your breath. His knees dug into the mattress on either side of your waist, his hips slotted against yours. Against your will, you felt something stiff and warm press into your lower stomach, and choose not to put a name to it.

Your chest throbbed, like it was at risk of splitting open. Your body ached, too little oxygen in too many placed, and it took you seconds to remember how to make any sound other than short, pitchy whines. Dick took it all in from above, only partially cast in shadow. Unlike the others, he never wore his mask around you – something about ‘letting his guard down’ or ‘proving you can trust him’, you were sure. Still, you wished he cared more about his secret identity. Even blank anonymity would’ve been better than being able to make out the deep, scarlet blush spread over his cheeks as he loomed over you, to recognize the raggedness of his own breathing and force yourself not to acknowledge why he seemed so strained.

“You’re not smiling.” It was true. You weren’t. Your expression had fallen into a distinct, pathetic grimace – only a touch less strained than the alternative. “Are you going to fix that, or do you need my help?”

In your own defense, you tried. You did your best to force it, to contort your lips into something that could pass for an easy smile, but whatever mangled offering you managed to pull together wasn’t up to Dick’s standards. He sighed, bowing his head and raising his hands. For a brief, terrible second, you pictured his fingers curled around your throat, your body convulsing as you suffocated, but his intentions were elsewhere. The hem of your shirt was caught and drawn up to your chin, far past anything that could ever be considered appropriate. You felt his fingertips drag over the curve of your rip cage once, twice before it kicked in – a searing, full-body laugh tearing out of your chest while you thrashed, your back arching and your hips inadvertently crashing against his. Immediately, Dick buckled – falling against you, hiding his face in your shirt. A second later, you felt something damp start to soak into your shorts, so hot it could’ve burnt.

The minutes passed, but Dick didn’t move, content to keep his body pressed into yours. Teary-eyed and dizzy, you let your head roll to the side, staring blankly at the television just as the credits started to roll.

At least he couldn’t keep you here forever, right?

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Trophy Boyfriend

Word count: 450

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Summary: Lando Norris fully embraces his role as Y/n L/n’s devoted trophy boyfriend, happily standing in the background while she steals the spotlight.

________________________________________________________

Lando Norris had a lot of titles to his name—Formula 1 driver, McLaren’s golden boy, future world champion (hopefully). But none of them mattered quite as much as the one he held now: Y/n L/n’s boyfriend.

It was a role he took very seriously. Not because he was the main character in this relationship—he wasn’t, not even a little. Y/n was the main event, the superstar, the reason photographers nearly toppled over themselves trying to snap pictures when they walked into a room together.

She was everything. And he was just… well, Lando.

He didn’t mind.

“I love this dress,” he said, watching Y/n twirl in front of the mirror. It was something sleek, designer, probably gifted by a brand that wanted her to post about it.

“You think so?” she mused, adjusting the straps.

“I think,” Lando said, sliding his hands around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder, “that every single person at this event is going to wish they were me.”

Y/n laughed, rolling her eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”

“No, I’m right.” He grinned. “I’m literally dating you. Do you know how crazy that is?”

She turned in his arms, smoothing a hand through his curls. “I have a feeling you’re about to tell me.”

“I mean, look at you,” he continued dramatically. “Gorgeous. Talented. Everyone loves you. And then there’s me—your little trophy boyfriend.”

Y/n raised an eyebrow. “Little?”

“Well, figuratively.” He leaned in closer, voice dropping. “Not literally.”

She smacked his chest, but he could see the way her lips curled up. “Behave.”

“Never,” he murmured, stealing a quick kiss before she could stop him.

The gala was exactly what Lando expected—Y/n’s show, and he was just happy to be a part of it.

People flocked to her the second they arrived, showering her with compliments, gushing over her latest projects, asking for pictures. Lando, in the meantime, sipped his drink and stood a little off to the side, perfectly content to let her shine.

Occasionally, she would reach back for him, lacing their fingers together like a silent reminder: You’re still my favorite person here.

He liked that.

At some point, a well-meaning (but oblivious) businessman clapped Lando on the back and said, “Must be nice, huh? Being with someone like Y/n.”

Lando just grinned. “Mate, I wake up every day and wonder how I pulled it off.”

It was true. He had no delusions about who the star was in this relationship. Y/n walked into a room and owned it, and Lando? He was just happy to be the guy holding her purse when she needed both hands to take a picture.

And honestly? Best gig ever.

[epicbuddieficrecs]

Epic Buddie Fic Rec | March 10th-24th 2025

Work has just been.... a lot. Feels like the only thing getting me through the week is 9-1-1 Thursdays. Anyway. It's a long one cause you're getting two weeks. Bon appetit.

Complete

it has no name (no guarantee) by withmeornotatall/ @chronicowboy (S8E11: Holy Mother of God Coda, Pre-Buddie | 1,1K | General):

"H-hey, E-eddie." Buck isn't sure why he stumbles over Eddie's name. He's had enough practice over the past few days. Said it enough times in his life that it should be able to slip out seamlessly every damn time. "Hey, Buck." And there's Eddie sounding sure and confident and a little tired and warm and soft and so much like his best friend. Buck aches. "Just finished unpacking. Told myself I couldn't call until I was done. Incentive, y'know?" (or: eddie calls, buck blurts some things out, they're totally normal best friends)

all my life, there you go Chapter 29. Sleeping in by trysetmeonfire (Post-S8E9: Sob Stories, Eddie Back From Texas | 1,2K | Mature):

Buck shuffles a little and Eddie thinks for a moment maybe- but he just snorts a little and keeps dreaming. Eddie tries to tamp down on the kind of sleepover giddiness bubbling up in his chest — wake up wake up wake up — and takes the opportunity to watch his best friend. His- whatever. Whatever they are now that Eddie knows what kissing him is like, quickly and quietly in his parent’s backyard, now that Eddie has stumbled his way through a question — “Why are you- why did you- all of this- do you- do you-“ — and Buck had frowned a little, not in an unhappy way but in his serious way, and had heard the real thing Eddie had wanted to know, and said “Eddie- of course I love you.” 

is it enough now by foxwatson/ @eddiediazes (S8E11: Holy Mother of God Coda, Pre-Buddie | 1,4K | Teen):

“I’m not in love with you,” Buck blurts out as soon as the ringing stops on the other end of the phone. There’s dead air on the other end of the line, but the kind that’s filled with background noise - a distant hum, some breathing sounds, just enough for Buck to know that Eddie heard him. buck finally calls eddie. he's still working through some stuff. he's kind of a disaster, honestly.

city lights, without you (they don’t even shine like they used to) by farfromthstars/ @doeeyeseddie (S8E11: Holy Mother of God Coda | 1,5K | Teen):

“It wouldn’t be so crazy,” Maddie said, and she didn’t even sound surprised. Is this something she’s thought about before? Do his sister and his ex really think he’s secretly in love with Eddie? And if Maddie thinks so, does Chimney do, too? Fuck, does everyone think he’s pining after Eddie? ~ buck is not in love with eddie. definitely not.

I’ve pined for you my whole life (morning, noon, and night) by paleredheadinascifi (S8E11: Holy Mother of God Coda | 1,7K | Teen):

“Where did you do it?” Eddie asks in one quick breath. “Hmm?” Buck hums. “Sorry I - - I. Nevermind. Sorry. It’s none of my business,” Eddie croaks, and whatever that is in his voice is what finally clues Buck in. “Oh. Oh,” he gasps. “Where did I - - where did we sleep together?” Or, Buck calls Eddie after 8x11.

sanctioned departures by littleghost/ @ghostlandtoo (S8E10: Voices Coda | 1,9K | General):

Buck gets his sister back and loses his best friend in the same week.

a fool for you by staticsilencee (S8E11: Holy Mother of God Coda, Getting Together | 2K | Mature):

“You did what?” Eddie asked, his voice sounding faint over the phone. Buck groaned, dropping his face into his hands. “I moaned your name! I don’t know why man, I just– Tommy said a bunch of stuff after– after. And I can’t work any of it out, and I know this is probably weird but I really need my best friend right now.” -or- Buck accidentally moans Eddie's name after he bring Tommy back to his place- oops!

keep me by you by euadnes/ @kananjarus (S8E11: Holy Mother of God Coda | 2,5K | Teen):

"It's funny you say that," he says. His voice has gone so soft Buck thumbs the volume up, his heart in his throat. "My date tonight ended early because I too would not shut up about the amazing guy I apparently couldn't get over. And he didn't enjoy being used a rebound. Or at least that's how he put it." Buck didn't hear that right, right? He realizes his mouth has fallen open, a few seconds too late. He scarcely dares to breathe. "He -? Wait, you were on a date with a - a guy?" Eddie cocks his head, quirks his mouth. "That's the part of the conversation you're focusing on?"

Buddie Versus The Kiss Cam by explorerofworlds (Basketball Date, S8 | 3K | General):

Buck and Eddie take Tommy’s tickets and go to a basketball game together. While there, they end up on the kiss cam! Or the kiss cam fic.

I just want it to be you by Lihhelsing/ @lihhelsing (S8E11: Holy Mother of God Coda | 4K | Mature):

Five times someone calls Eddie Diaz to talk about Buck and one time Eddie calls Buck instead.

realizations by staticsilencee (S8E11: Holy Mother of God Coda, Getting Together | 4K | Teen):

“Are you okay?” On the ground, his phone screen was still lit, a call with Eddie displayed on the screen. Through the haze of panic, Buck was at least relieved that he hadn’t managed to start a video call. I think I’m in love with you. Oh God, I think I’m in love with you. “Yeah, I– everything’s good, I think I just– butt dialed you, or something.”

loose-tongued, in love by wenttoafortuneteller (Getting Together | 4K | Teen):

“Get home safe,” Buck says. Then, as always, he thinks: I love you. Eddie goes very, very still. His breathing stutters to a stop. There’s a strange expression on his face, his mouth twisting in that way it does when he doesn’t know what to say. Buck squints blearily at him. “What?” A muscle in his jaw twitches once. Twice. The muted light illuminates the quiet movement of his throat as he swallows. “What’d you just say?” “Get home safe,” Buck repeats, a yawn overtaking the last word. “Why…?” Or: the one where Buck, drowsy and delirious on pain medication, confesses his love to Eddie without realizing it.

24 Hours by xylodemon/ @xylodemon (Post-S8E10: Voices, Getting Together | 4K | Not Rated):

Chimney asks, "Who are you texting?" "Eddie." "Really? He's only been gone… what—? Two hours?" "Two hours and thirty-one minutes." "Not that anyone's counting." (Or, Buck and Eddie in the the first 24 hours after Eddie leaves.)

Coming for you by diazsdimples (Eddie Moves to Texas, PWP, Phone Sex | 4K | Explicit):

The idea of Buck on his bed, in his house, wearing his shirt, while he touches himself really does something for Eddie. It makes the small, possessive beast that’s curled up inside his chest purr with contentment. The beast that shouldn’t really exist, because Buck isn’t really his. His phone pings again with another text from Buck. OR Eddie moves to Texas, Buck moves into his house, and neither of them really know how to handle it. Good thing phone sex solves all problems!

How to supreme an orange by paleredheadinascifi (Post-Chris coming home, Getting together | 5K | Teen):

"I don’t like oranges.” “Since when?” Eddie frowns. “You used to love oranges.” Christopher shrugs. “I don’t like them anymore.” And that’s fine, really. Tastes change. Christopher doesn’t have to like oranges. It’s just that he does. Christopher loves oranges. Christopher has loved oranges since the first time he tasted one, Eddie watching on over a shaky video call from the desert. Or, Eddie knows his kid, and his kid loves oranges. Buck knows both of them better than Eddie realized. He shows it in various citrus-based ways.

stay in the line, stay in the line by Elgney (S4E5: Buck Begins | 5K | General):

"The other firefighters were very kind. We got to hear a lot of stories about you. They seem to like you a great deal." Or: two missing conversations from Buck Begins.

Don’t Think About It Too Much, Too Much, Too Much, Too Much by fruitsdoesnotknow/ @fruitsdontknow (Post-S8E11: Holy Mother of God, Chris Coming Home, Getting Together | 6K | Mature):

“My friend, my…. Eddie’s like that. He’s a single parent, too. Big worrier. He nests. Uh,” Buck dips his head down. “Loves his kid more than anything. That’s where he’s coming from, now. Picking up his son, Christopher.” “Your Diaz boys,” she clarifies, a warm look in her eyes, and Buck feels his cheeks heat up. “Yeah.” *** Eddie and Chris finally come back to Los Angeles. Buck has some realizations, and confessions, to make. Good thing Eddie's got some of his own to share, too.

softer, harder, in-between by mostardent/ @laracrofted (S8E9: Sob Stories, Jealous Eddie, PWP | 6K | Explicit):

“He was hitting on you!” “So? Who cares?” “I care. We’re married!” Buck blinks. And blinks and blinks and blinks. “Okay. Hold on. What?” One of Eddie's potential renters flirts with Buck, and Eddie is super normal about it and doesn't at all lose his mind over the idea of Buck dating the man who moves into his house.

I'll take your chaos and your crooked in a heartbeat by heartbeatdiaz/ @lonelychicago (Post-S8E10: Voices, Eddie Goes to Texas, Getting Together | 6K | Teen):

He shakes his head, trying to clear the thought before it can settle. Eddie isn’t dead. He’s in Texas, doing what’s best for Christopher. And Buck—Buck has to get over whatever this is. Swallowing hard, he moves to grab one of his own boxes, dragging it toward the hallway. But then, out of the corner of his eye, he sees it. A single, forgotten cardboard box in the far corner of the living room. In big, black letters, written with marker, it reads: EDDIE — KEEP. It’s not one of his. He is sure of that. or: Eddie leaves a very important box behind and Buck spirals.

the things i wanna hear by stevesconverse (Post-S8E6: Confessions, Chim's Bachelor Party | 6K | Teen):

— or the one where Buck finds a video of him and Eddie making out at Chimney's bachelor party.

we get back to my house (your hands, my mouth) by weewooforever (Post-S8E11: Holy Mother of God, PWP | 7K | Explicit):

Eddie finds out that Buck fucked Tommy in his house. His reaction to finding this out is perfectly normal.

I missed your skin when you were east by Lihhelsing/ @lihhelsing (Post-S8A, Getting Together | 7K | Explicit):

Maybe Buck had gotten used to people leaving. So much so that it didn’t affect him anymore. His life would keep going even if his best friend wasn’t there anymore. Eventually, he accepted that nothing would feel different. He signed the moving truck away and sat on the porch stairs, one almost warm beer in hand as he waited for Eddie to get home. When Eddie did, Buck almost felt like something was different about him, but then figured it was just his imagination. Buck left his half-drank beer on the porch of Eddie’s former house shortly after Eddie had left him the same way. Half-drunk. Unchanged. OR; Eddie leaves, and Buck's life stays the same. It's when he comes back that everything changes.

That’s what you do (when you love somebody) by scarmaddiewrites (Eddie Moves to Texas, Getting Together | 7K | Teen):

Buck can’t go home. He physically can’t, so he avoids it at all costs, until he doesn’t. Or The five times Buck avoids his house and the one time he never wants to leave

can you see what we are? (it’s all there written down) by kabnd/ @polkadotk804 (Canon, S2 onwards | 8K | General):

April 25, 2019 - Buck, genuinely distressed in the middle of the night in the bunkroom, presumably to Eddie (overheard by me, Chim): “Do you think that cat from the ‘hang in there’ poster is dead? Like how long do you think that little dude really hung in there?” Eddie, who I think was still mostly asleep: “At least he left a legacy.” OR: Maddie starts a shared note to document Buck and Eddie-isms…it gets just as unhinged at you’d imagine and tells their story from the perspective of the 118 & Co…and then Chris comes home!

smiling through it all by stevesconverse (Canon Divergent, S2E1: Under Pressure | 8K | Teen):

“So what’s your real name, then?” Eddie asks, sipping on his own drink—a whiskey he’s swirling around in the glass constantly. “Evan,” Buck says coyly, quickly adding, “But nobody really calls me that.” “Evan,” Eddie echoes, the sound dripping off his tongue like thick honey. “I like it.” It almost makes Buck regret to ever abandon it in the first place, driving a shiver down his spine. Almost. “And what’s Eddie short for? Eduardo?” he quickly shifts the conversation, stirring his drink and popping another peanut into his mouth. Eddie shakes his head and chuckles. “Edmundo,” he corrects him, then winks at Buck with a low, “But nobody really calls me that.” or the one where Buck and Eddie have a one-night-stand two days before Eddie starts at the 118.

think i know where you belong by stevesconverse (Eddie&Chris Go Back To LA, Roommates, Accidental Kiss | 8K | Teen):

“Bye,” Eddie mumbles distantly, and when Buck finally manages to open his eyes again, Eddie is halfway out the door already. Puzzled, he just stands there, listens to the slam of the door and the starting of the truck outside, his mind spinning and his lips still tingling. Eddie has just kissed him. Actually kissed him, like it was the most normal, casual thing in the world, like this was what they always do, a routine they follow, a dance they’ve learned. Except it’s none of that. 

meet me in the afterglow by literalmetaphor (Established Buddie, Hurt/Comfort | 9K | Explicit):

“We need a safe word,” Buck says. “You know, to make things as clear as possible.” “I feel like no works just fine,” Eddie says. Buck lets out a breath, because, sure, it probably will, but he needs assurance here. He needs something straightforward, simple, maybe something easier than Eddie telling him no. Maybe something easier than Eddie saying it’s too much. He’s never been great at that. “Just, humor me, okay? Communication is key with stuff like this.” Eddie’s laugh is soft, kind of incredulous, but he meets Buck’s eyes, and there’s a relenting fondness in them. “You think, what, you’re gonna be so good it’s gonna scramble my brain out of knowing how to say no?” An answering laugh tumbles out of Buck, peppered with the exasperation at the back of his throat. “I think this is new for you, and I think you should have options.” OR Eddie has to use the safe word.

love of my life, can't you see? by wenttoafortuneteller (S8E11 Spec, Crack | 10K | Teen):

“I asked Josh out,” Buck admits. It’s cartoonish how quickly Eddie’s jaw drops; how his eyes bulge out of his head. Buck rubs the back of his neck, sheepish, waiting for him to say something. There’s still silence. Buck frowns at his screen. “Eddie? Hello? I think you froze.” “I’m here,” Eddie says slowly, eyes still comically wide. “I just think I might have misheard you.” “Oh,” Buck says, and repeats himself. “I asked Josh out.” “Okay. So I didn’t mishear you.” Eddie scrubs a hand over his face. “Can I ask why?”  Or: Maddie nudges Buck towards Eddie, Buck misunderstands horribly, and Eddie suffers over FaceTime.

I can roll with all the punches (if you hold a couple back) by Elgney (Canon, S1-S2 | 13K | General):

“I need someone like you—someone who can keep up with him, and have his back, and maybe eventually even rein him in, should that be a thing that is humanly possible to do,” said Bobby, smiling warmly over the remaining half of his sandwich. “Oh, I see,” said Eddie. And he did now. That’s what Bobby’s whole hard sell was about—it wasn’t personal, it was about Eddie being the top of this class. “I know the type. You see guys a lot like that in the military.” “Oh, no,” said Bobby, “I didn’t mean to—well, what I mean is, I don’t think you have seen a lot of guys like Buck, to be honest. I don’t think there are a lot of people like him.” ----- Hen & Chim discussing the new probie; Buck's forgotten shield ceremony; Eddie's first shift with the 118. Or: three early impressions of Buck, through the eyes of his future found family.

hopeless, breathless, burning slow by mostardent/ @laracrofted (Post-S6E11: In Another Life | 14K | Mature):

He knows Eddie worries about him. Everyone does, but with Eddie, it’s not the same. He doesn’t look at Buck like he still has one foot in the grave. Eddie looks at him like he prayed for a miracle and God gave him Buck. In the pale blue-green light, Buck lifts his gaze mid-sentence and finds Eddie already looking at him. His hands are shoved deep in his pockets, shoulders down. He looks at ease, relaxed and peaceful, a fond smile on his face, coaxed from the corner of his mouth. One of his Christopher smiles, except Eddie’s gaze rests steadily on Buck, so maybe it’s a different kind of smile, one just for him. His dark eyes are warm and bright as afternoon sunshine, brimming with happiness, and it’s the most real Buck has felt in weeks. After the coma, Buck struggles to feel real and unofficially moves in with Eddie. (Or, Eddie hovers and Buck burns.)

listen for heaven by marviless/ @marviless (S8, Eddie Moves to Texas | Getting Together | 15K | Teen):

There’s a long pause before Buck answers. “Yeah, I do,” he says. “I felt alone for the first twenty something years of my life.” “What about now?” Eddie asks, and he’s not even quite sure what he means. What about now, right in this moment? or what about now, now that I’m gone? Buck chooses to answer the former. “I’m never lonely when I’m with you,” he says simply, softly. Eddie, Buck, and six phone calls.

Finding You by Sabs/ @memequeme (Soulmates AU, Eddie Goes to Texas, Getting Together | 16K | Teen):

Eddie leaves for Texas on a Tuesday and Buck feels it in his heart before he even exits the airport. He starts to feel it in his body on a Thursday. Or: Soulbonds are rare, spontaneous bonds are practically unheard, but Buck and Eddie have always been anything but conventional.

🔥been lost for a while by trysetmeonfire/ @try-set-me-on-fire (Canon Divergent, Nurse Eddie, S2 | 17K | Mature):

Eddie's wife has been dead for two weeks. There's a firefighter in bed five. These are not necessarily related facts, but Eddie will have a hard time separating them out, later. — A story, in many ways, about holding hands

you're more than a heart can take by Elgney (Eddie Coming Out, First Date | 19K | Mature):

“Come on, you’re telling me you wouldn’t consider sneaking into a storage closet with me?” “Obviously, I would!” Eddie was whisper-yelling now, and Buck wasn’t sure exactly what point he was trying to make, but he was enjoying every second of this. “But one of us is going to have to have restraint and it has to be the—the one with the most experience.” Buck felt his mouth drop open in delight. “Eddie,” he admonished. “Are you calling me a whore?” “No!” said Eddie, looking increasingly flustered. “I just mean—clearly you have the power to do—” he gestured at Buck, “that, so you have the—the responsibility to, like, use it. Responsibly.” “Did you just quote Spiderman?” Eddie propped his elbows on the table and dropped his head into his hands, groaning dramatically. “I’m going to die. The first date, and I’m going to die.” “Been there, wouldn’t recommend it.” --- Buck and Eddie and the first date.

under pressure by brewrosemilk/ @gayhoediaz (Established Buddie, First Time, PWP | 22K | Explicit):

“It’s not funny,” Eddie sighs, knocking the back of his head against the kitchen cabinet as he brings a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. “Oh, come on—it’s a—it’s a little funny,” Buck argues, amusement thick in his voice as Eddie feels his hand curl around his own wrist. Eddie takes a breath, and drops his wrist to rest over his own knee as he turns to meet Buck’s eyes, arching his own eyebrow in question. Or: Buck and Eddie have grand plans for their first time, it's just unfortunate that their bodies don't seem to be getting the message.

🔥 boy, we ain't got nothin' to lose by Elgney (Amnesia, Post-S7E5: You Don't Know Me | 26K | Teen):

“They just follow it around, copying it and helping it and bothering it so much that it's like, worn down into loving the duckling back and looking out for it.” “So,” said Eddie, furrowing his brow. “In this scenario, you are—” “A baby duckling, newly hatched into the world with no idea what’s going on.” “And I am—” “The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes.” ---- Eddie has no idea how to cope when a temporary case of amnesia causes the return of Buck 1.0. Buck has no clue why his future self hasn't made the moves on his hot best friend. It all goes pretty well, considering.

🔥 Your Fake Name is Good Enough For Me by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon Divergent, Changeling AU, Post-S8A | 37K | Mature):

When a younger man claiming to be Evan Buckley is apprehended by Pennsylvania police, Buck's past and present are thrown into question. Buck must work with Bobby and Athena to discover who he really is, and what that means for his family.

🔥paving hell with energy by Elgney (S8E9 Spec, Kidnapping, Getting Together | 52K | Not Rated):

Oh, fuck him, did he almost sleep with a serial killer? Distantly, he thought, Hen and Chim are never going to let me live this down. And then he thought, I might not live at all. ----- Buck is having a hard time dealing with Eddie's impending move to El Paso and resorts to some Buck 1.0-style coping mechanisms. Unfortunately for everybody, this backfires in spectacular fashion. Especially for Eddie, who waited until now to realize he was in love with his best friend. OR: Buck and Maddie get kidnapped. Eddie spirals.

Part 1 of not how the damage gets done

You tried to run (I tried to tie your shoes) by Elgney (Established Buddie, Fluff | 6K | General):

“Do I want to know what’s going on here?” Bobby asked. “Normal stuff,” Buck shouted from where he was, back on the couch. Eddie snorted down at his form, feeling fond and avoiding eye contact with Bobby, who must have stared down Chimney instead, because a second later he was fessing up. “We’re making them fill out their HR relationship forms separately, and then we’re going to compare them, Newlywed Game-style.” ---- Buck and Eddie fill out the LAFD's Consensual Relationship Agreement paperwork, Chim and Hen are over them already, and Bobby is just trying to make lunch and commit as few HR violations as possible.

Part 2 of not how the damage gets done

WIP

🔥 Doe & a Drop of Golden Sun by ohstars/ @oh-stars (Canon Divergent, Dad Buck | 14? | 60K | Teen):

Buck doesn't mean to keep secrets from everyone, but he also can't talk about the pain he experiences on a day to day basis. With his nine-year-old living across the country and his custody limited to one monthly visit, Buck doesn't know how to share this part of himself. How does he tell his team of six years that he's had a kid this whole time? How does he tell his sister? How does he tell his Edd-- best friend? It's fine. The universe isn't going to give him a choice in the matter when the worst thing imaginable becomes his reality.

🔥 for all the haunts and homes of menby euadnes/ @kananjarus (Canon Divergent, Post-Apocalyptic, Station Eleven Crossover | WIP | 17/18 | 169K | Mature | Warning: Violence):

The year by the old calendar is 2025. Home is gone. Home is a failed rescue mission and an echo of a memory. Home is a lost boy living in a wooden house by the sea. But first, there was a promise. Christopher, when it's safe, I'll take you back to your father. Buck had all but given up on keeping it after the world had died and everyone in it. But just as some oaths refuse to be forgotten, so the same can be said about the endurance of love.

Podfic

🔥[podfic] a cold world for such a long life by nuuma // fic by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Post-S7 | 1-1.5h | Teen):

Eddie befriends Bobby's estranged older brother in a virtual support group for queer adults struggling to come out. The only problem? He has no idea that's who Charlie is.

🔥[Podfic] Even in Winter There is Eranthis by Favourite_alias for letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Hades/Persephone AU | 45K | Explicit):

Buck is supposedly a god. Supposedly. But he's got no idea what his domain is or what role he plays in Olympus. When he meets Christopher, a young boy lost and trying to find his father, he helps Chris get home - and ends up accidentally binding himself to the Underworld. Now bound to Eddie, the god of the dead, Buck must spend half the year with him in the Underworld while winter reigns above. But even as something grows between them, there are still trials to endure. Just because the gods are not mortal... does not mean they cannot die.

🔥 [Podfic] Further Than Blood (Or Than Bones) by Favourite_alias for letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Vampires AU | 5-6h | Explicit):

Once, Eddie chose to save a newly turned against his better judgment. Five hundred years ago, Buck was saved by a rescuer he thought was a hallucination. Now they're together again and about to find out just how far either of them will go to try and deny what they are to each other.

[talesfromawannabewriter]

The Beast and the Goblin

@things-arent-what-they-seem66

Once upon a time there was a grand kingdom called Paradisus. It was filled with the most beautiful people in all the land. But the true gem above all the rest was Prince Adam.

He was the first born son of Queen Sera, a single woman who died shortly after their daughter Princess Emily was born.

Both were beautiful beings in their own right but none so than Adam. His skin was kissed by the sun, His head was full of thick brown curls, his body and face were as if it was crafted by the Heavens themselves.

But it was his eyes that were his most prominent feature. They were the most dazzling honey filled orbs that one could simply get lost in.

But what made him truly beautiful was his kind character and love for nature around him. His ability to charm others and make them laugh made those who met him fall in love with him.

Everyone in the kingdom who saw him ,even if it was only once, wanted him. That included the all powerful fairy Lilith.

One day she approached the young prince and asked for his hand in courtship. She told him, two beautiful souls such as themselves deserve each other.

However, much to her shock he rejected her. He stated that while indeed she was gorgeous he simply had no interest in her.

Disheartened and humiliated the fairy had promised that this handsome but foolish prince would pay.

And she knew exactly the right way to do it.

—

It was a quiet night in the castle nothing but the rain outside made much sound. The guards were patrolling the grounds while the servants slept in their quarters. The royal family each in their own chambers.

Sitting at his vanity Prince Adam admired himself as he stroked his chocolate locks with his comb. The Prince had nothing but a black nightgown in, for secretly he always did prefer gowns from pants.

Nightgowns especially were the most comfortable. They also were best for he only wore them in the privacy in his own chambers.

However, that was about to change.

A strike of lightening spooked Adam causing him to drop his brush to the floor. He bent down to retrieve it and when he was staring at his mirror again there he saw Lilith in the background.

Adam screeched turning around in terror: What the Hell are you doing here!? How did you even get in!?

Lilith chuckled darkly: Oh you stupid prince don’t you realize who I am? I can literally go anywhere I want and not a single thing can stop me.

Adam: But not my personal guards, LUTE! VAGGIE HELP!!!

He screamed at the top of his lungs but he didn’t hear a single step towards his doors.

Lilith: They will be no use to you dear, I made it so no one can hear what I’m about to do. I’ll need full concentration on this one.

Adam suddenly felt fear grip him like a python: W, what do you want with m, me?

Lilith: Nothing much, just this.

Adam screamed as he was hit pain unlike any other racking all over his body.

Lilith: Hehe, and so it begins, with this pain I bring another make it so they’ll be smothered. I ask your spirits to curse this man, to bring upon him the curse of beast. Make him brutish, meal him ugly, make him so another would never cast a glance his way, make it so that they scream on sight from his wretched looks, make him so he will never find love of his own kind. Make that a promise.

Adam fells to the floor as he writhed in agony. He shut his eyes, tears still spilling through as he felt his body start to change.

He felt something sharp protrude from his skull, and the hair on his body grew rapidly. Wrapping him like a coat. He felt and heard his gown ripped from his middle as his stomach twisted.

It was all just too much.

Soon though it was finished, the pain subsided, and he could hear his tormenter cackling.

Lilith: Oh, this is even better than I ever thought it would be!

He yelped once more as Lilith picked him up and dragged him back to the mirror.

What he saw made him almost faint on the spot.

There in the mirror was a beast staring right at him. Its fur was black as night, with skin grey like ash, it had sharp, long horns that curled around its skull.

Its fangs glistened as its muzzle was gapped opened, and its long goat-like ears flicked with life.

It was the most horrid creature he had ever laid eyes on. With horror, he watched as Lilith lowered herself to the beast ear and heard her whisper right into his,

Lilith: Who will think you're beautiful now?

[dreameyess11]

love, love, love

Carlos Sainz x Reader

The soft hum of your favorite song played in the background as you and Carlos sat cross-legged on the living room floor, surrounded by a sea of wedding magazines, swatches of fabric, and color samples. It was late evening, and the golden glow of candles you both lit gave the room a warm, almost magical, ambiance.

“Are you sure about this color?” Carlos asked, holding up a swatch of burgundy velvet between his fingers, his brow furrowed in concentration. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him taking the smallest details so seriously, his usual calm demeanor tinged with just a hint of nervous energy.

“It’s perfect,” you reassured him, scooting closer to examine the fabric. “It’ll look stunning with the ivory table settings.”

Carlos leaned back, running a hand through his chestnut hair. “I just want everything to be perfect for you.” His words were soft, sincere, and they made your heart swell.

“You mean us,” you corrected with a teasing smile, brushing his hand lightly. He caught your fingers mid-motion, lacing them with his.

“Right, us,” he said, a playful grin spreading across his face. “Although I think you’re doing most of the hard work here. I just follow orders.”

You laughed, nudging him gently. “Hardly! You’ve vetoed, what, three cake flavors already?”

“Okay, the pistachio one was just wrong,” he replied, laughing as well. His laughter echoed in the room, and you realized, not for the first time, how his joy had the power to lift the heaviest of days.

As the evening wore on, you both found yourselves lying on the plush rug, your head resting on his shoulder. He was scrolling through photos on his phone, showing you venue options while sneaking in snapshots of your happiest moments together—road trips, cozy mornings, stolen moments from race weekends.

“Do you remember this?” he asked, showing you a picture of the two of you on a small boat in the middle of Lake Como. The sun had set behind you, casting a fiery glow over the water.

“Of course,” you replied, tracing the screen with your finger. “You were steering us straight into another boat.”

Carlos chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Best near-crash of my life.”

You closed your eyes, letting his voice and the memory wash over you. “We’ve had so many beautiful moments together, haven’t we?”

“And we’re about to have the most beautiful one yet,” he whispered, his voice full of conviction. “When I see you walking down that aisle… that’s going to be a moment I’ll never forget.”

Your throat tightened, and you tilted your head up to meet his gaze. His brown eyes held a softness, a depth that made you feel like the luckiest person in the world.

“You’re going to cry, aren’t you?” you teased, your voice breaking the emotion with a lightness that had become second nature between you two.

“I’m not making any promises,” he replied, grinning. “But if I do, you can’t hold it against me. Deal?”

“Deal,” you murmured, leaning up to kiss him softly, your fingers brushing against his jawline. In that moment, surrounded by the chaos of wedding planning and the comfort of his arms, you realized you didn’t need perfection. You just needed him.

And that was the most beautiful detail of all.

[thegurlwhoisntthere]

Currently thinking about The Batfam and what Hogwarts houses people usually put them in vs what house I think they’re actually in, Let’s go:

Starting off with Dick Grayson, he’s the oldest and most of the fandom knows him as “the golden boy”! The original Robin and the mother hen mediator of his siblings… he works so very hard to keep this reputation, inside he is a feral feral child. Defo got some anger issues that he shoves down because he blames himself for Jason’s death of reasons. Most people put him in either Gryffindor or Hufflepuff. As an adult, I agree he does fit these houses… however. The children of Hogwarts do not get sorted as fleshed out adults, they get sorted as feral 11 year olds. And 11 year old dick was as feral as they come. I think what house he’s in really depends on what age you think he was when his parents were murdered. The most accepted ages are 8-12, which means that there’s some wiggle room here. Pre-orphan hood I feel like he could swing that Gryffinpuff nature that many people believe him to be. However, if this is after the accident, I believe that it would be a toss up between Gryffindor and Slytherin depending on how long ago it happened. If it’s 8-9 I believe it’d be closer to Gryffindor because he’d have more time to settle into his role as Robin and maybe he’s starting to lean more toward Reckless and fun than “I will murder those that have wronged me” that early orphan-hood brought him. If he was 10-11 and still feeling that rage, then Slytherin.

Next we have Jason Todd-Wayne! Second Oldest… kinda, I think he and Cass are tied. Second Robin and first adopted, Jason grew up on the streets of Crime Alley and his tough skin showcased that. But! Don’t let his past fuel you, this boy is famous for his “Robin makes me Magic” quote (I’m so sorry if that’s not the actual quote, but I’m not doing research this is vibes and past knowledge only) and made Batman wait until he was finished with his homework to go on Patrol. Though Famous for his death, Resurrection and anger issues and murder, once again he did not die until 15/16, so we will be sorting him based on his 11 year old self. Now, honestly I don’t know where most people sort him beyond Ravenclaw because the Ravenclaw people are correct. This man has valued education since the day he was born. Pre-adoption or not, the moment he hears that Ravenclaw has a built in Library he was never going anywhere else.

Down the line we have Timothy “Tim” Drake-Wayne! Third Robin, ace photographer and Detective, he figured out who Batman was when he was 9. I don’t feel like Tim needs much explaination for me to say Slytherin, but I’ll give a bit anyway. It’s commonly believed that as an adult, Tim would be in Slytherin. It’s also commonly believed that the only reason he doesn’t kill is because Bruce doesn’t allow it. At 11 years old, not adopted by Bruce or in regular contact with him at all and criminally neglected, Tim has no super vision, resources, a brilliant mind, and too much time on his hands. When I say he would do anything to get what he wants, or what he thinks needs to happen, he fucking will.

Alright! Next up we have Stephanie Brown! Now I will be so honest, a lot of these next characters I don’t know a lot about them or their backgrounds, so I will be trying my best. This girl has ✨daddy issues✨, her dad is the knock off Riddler: Cluemaster. She grew up in Gotham proper, though I don’t know the specific neighborhood. She donned a mask costume to take him down herself, running into the third Robin, befriending him and eventually takes over for him a bit when his dad’s being a Debby downer. Valiantly refuses to be adopted by Batman. Very tough, very classy, I dub her a Gryffindor through and through… Although she can get into the Ravenclaw common room with ease.

Following her, we’ve got the legend herself Cassandra Cain-Wayne. Raised to be a living weapon by her father and escaped him after her first kill, she was never taught how to speak, only read body language. Found by Barbara Gordon at… 16? I think, she was eventually either taught how to sign and speak or had her brain magically rewired to understand speech and learned it alongside sign then. Again, don’t really understand her personality, but from what I’ve read she has a vicious sense of right and wrong and a mischievous streak just as long and wide and her brother’s, though the adults never suspect her. At 11 years old, I feel like she would find a home in Hufflepuff. She doesn’t quite know who she is, but she’s hard working and vicious like a badger if you fuck with her.

Finishing off the Batgirls, we have the original: Barbara Gordon! Originally Batgirl, now Oracle, I have no idea where people normally put her. I can see her going into any house: she’s hard working and kind like Hufflepuffs, Reckless and Brave like Gryffindor, Cunning and Resourceful like Slytherin, and Smart and Creative like Ravenclaw. I’m leaning toward Slytherin for her as an adult, but I don’t know a lot about her younger self to say anything too definitively. Maybe Gryffindor when she’s young and reckless, but grows into Slytherin more and more? Or maybe just Slytherin through and through.

And now, rounding off the Robins, we have Damian Al Ghul Wayne! Son of Talia Al Ghul and Bruce Wayne, Damian was raised to be the perfect assassin with the disposition and arrogance of a prince. His entrance to the family was rocky, but he’s grown more and more into his place as time passed. If he’s very new to the family at 11, Slytherin without any doubts. Two and a half years and on, I think he’s a Hufflepuff who’s got a lot of Slytherin habits. He was raised to beat down his kindness and natural loyalty, but being with Bruce, Dick and the rest of his family brings it out more and more with each year. So, the longer he’s with them, the more chance I think he has of being in Hufflepuff, though I do believe it���s really just down to him deciding, similar to Harry in the books.

And Last, but most certainly not least, we have the newest member of the family: Duke Thomas! Not yet adopted by Bruce (and maybe never, we don’t know) Duke is the only Metahuman member of the Batfamily. His parents were rendered insane by the Joker when he was young and he was pushed into the system… I think. For probably the fourth time in this post, I’m not as familiar with his character. I know at some point he either started a child gang or was one of the leaders of a child gang called “we are Robin”, so while he never had a Batman as Robin, he did don the symbol at some point. Now I know Duke like Poetry, was kind of a loner before he joined the Robin gang, and that a lot of people debate whether or not he’s chill or just as insane as his other siblings. In my opinion, he’s just as insane, but when he first got to the manor he was kinda nervous and accidentally conned everyone into thinking that he was normal, when in fact, he’s there for a reason. At 11, I believe that his parents had already been Jokered, so similar boat to baby Dick, but I feel like the toss up is between Slytherin and Ravenclaw, rather than Gryffindor (though that was briefly considered). Idk I think anyone who’s part of a child gang is gonna be cunning and Ambitious, but also I’ve read a lot of things where he’s quite creative, good at thinking outside the box, good at writing Poems, and good with Brain teasers, so I think he wouldn’t be out of place in Ravenclaw.

And those are my opinions on the batfamily and their Hogwarts houses. I forgot while writing the post that I could’ve included Bruce and Alfred, so: Bruce is Gryffindor, Alfred is Slytherin and I won’t be explaining that further. Good day and good night 🫡

Tell me ur opinions please please please please ple-

[deliriousfloral]

the intern pt. 2

pairing: billie eilish x female reader

summary: billie brings reader to a nearby bar. a lot of back and forth flirting and teasing. gets reeaaaally heated in the end but nothing too crazy... yet ehehehehe i am so sorry i love slow burns <3

warnings: 18+ mdni.

word count: 2.1k read pt 1 here!

you don’t know how you got here. one moment you were wrapping up your work, the next, you were sliding into a dimly lit booth at some bar down the street with the billie eilish, sitting way too close next to you.

her body was angled towards you, knee brushing against yours, fingers lazily swirling the rim of her glass. she was watching you, fully and shamelessly, her lips curled into that signature smirk that made your brain short-circuit.

“you always this shy and quiet, or is it just me?” her voice was smooth, teasing, and laced with something darker—something dangerous.

“i’m not, i just-,” you lied but stopped yourself, gripping your glass a little too tightly.

“hmm.” she took a slow sip of her drink, eyes locked onto yours over the rim. “so if i did this…” her fingers barely ghosted over your knee, feather-light, “you wouldn’t squirm?”

you swallowed hard, willing yourself to stay still. you failed. the moment her fingers traced small, lazy circles against your thigh, your breath hitched.

her smirk deepened. “thought so.”

“you like messing with people, don’t you?” you shot back, attempting to regain some sense of control.

“only when it’s fun,” she admitted, dragging her nails lightly over the fabric of your jeans before pulling away, leaving your skin tingling. “and you, pretty girl, are very fun.”

you exhaled sharply, picking up your drink and downing a generous sip. you needed something—anything—to ground you before you lost your damn mind.

“so,” she drawled, tilting her head as she studied you. “you gonna keep pretending you don’t like the way i look at you, or are we finally gonna be honest?”

she was relentless, her words wrapping around you like a silk ribbon, pulling you in tighter with every breath. she was insane. utterly insane. and i was falling victim, fast.

“i—” you started, but nothing coherent followed. your pulse was hammering in your ears, the heat creeping up your neck undeniable.

billie leaned in, her lips barely inches from yours, her voice a whisper against your skin. “c’mon, y/n. use your words.”

your name rolled off her tongue for the first time tonight, and it was the most satisfying thing for you to hear. you didn't want to admit it, but you were craving for more.

her breath was warm, her perfume intoxicating, her presence overwhelming in the best way possible. you swore you could feel the electricity crackling between you, thick enough to cut with a knife.

she was playing with you, but god, did she know exactly what she was doing.

“billie,” you breathed, her name barely audible over the pounding of your own heart.

“mm?” she hummed, feigning innocence as her fingers ghosted up your arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“you’re trouble,” you murmured, shaking your head with a nervous laugh.

she grinned, leaning even closer until her lips brushed the shell of your ear. “are you complaining?"

it took everything in you to keep your composure and not show her that she was affecting you the way that she did.

but you didn't want to deny it either.

you sucked in a sharp breath before bringing your glass to your lips.

billie lets out a low chuckle. "that's what i thought."

you set your glass down, fingers gripping the edge of the bar as you willed yourself to stay composed. but billie wasn’t making it easy.

she swirled the last of her drink in her glass, eyes never leaving yours. the low, ambient buzz of the bar faded into the background, drowned out by the way she was looking at you—like she already knew exactly what she was doing to you.

“you’re cute when you try to act unaffected,” she mused, head tilting slightly.

you scoffed, but it lacked any real bite. “i’m not trying to act anything.”

“whatever you say, baby,” she laughs incredulously, resting her chin on the palm of her hand as she bored her icy blue eyes into yours, a playful grin playing on her lips.

baby.

your heart stuttered. oh she was cruel.

your eyes unintentionally darted from her shiny, luscious lips and to her eyes. regretting it immediately when she rose an eyebrow knowingly.

you exhaled sharply, shaking your head with a half-laugh. “you love messing with me, don’t you?”

billie grinned, propping her chin up with her hand. “i like watching you squirm.”

heat bloomed in your chest. you didn’t trust yourself to respond, so you took another sip of your drink, hoping the alcohol would do something, anything to calm your nerves.

she watched you, amused. then, as if she hadn’t already been testing every limit of your self-control, she reached forward and plucked the glass from your hand, taking a slow sip. her lips curled around the rim, her eyes locked onto yours the entire time.

when she finally set it back down, she licked her lips, savoring the taste. “sweet,” she murmured.

you swallowed hard. “the drink?”

her gaze flickered down to your lips before meeting your eyes again. “sure.”

this was dangerous. intoxicating. and you weren’t sure you wanted it to stop. but what you knew was that you needed a breather. a moment to yourself. to get your shit together.

"i'll be right back," you murmured, not making eye contact as you grabbed your purse and made a beeline to the restroom.

billie snickered in amusement, watching you leave in amusement.

your heart was racing, your body buzzing with the weight of her touch, her voice, her everything. also, with the amount of alcohol you had consumed in attempt to get yourself together.

you needed a second to breathe. to get your thoughts together before you lost yourself completely.

inside the bathroom, you gripped the sink, staring at your reflection. “get it together,” you muttered, taking a deep breath. but even as you exhaled, your body still felt warm, your mind replaying every little thing she’d done—the way her lips had wrapped around your glass, the way her fingers barely ghosted over your skin yet left a wildfire in their wake.

you ran cold water over your wrists, hoping it would help. it didn’t.

a knock at the door made you jump. before you could respond, it creaked open slightly, and then—billie.

she stepped in, locking the door behind her with a quiet click. her eyes flickered over you, amusement dancing in them.

“you disappeared on me,” she said, her voice smooth, teasing. “thought you got lost.”

you swallowed. “i just needed a moment.”

her lips curved. “mm. a moment to think about me?”

you huffed, rolling your eyes, but your pulse betrayed you, pounding in your throat.

she took a slow step forward. “you were gone for a while,” she murmured, her fingers reaching out, barely grazing your hip.

“billie,” you warned, but it came out weaker than you intended.

she hummed, taking another step, closing the distance. your back hit the cool surface of the sink as she caged you in, hands bracing on either side of you.

“you’re so easy to fluster,” she whispered, eyes dark and knowing.

you sucked in a sharp breath as her fingers traced an absentminded pattern against your waist, her touch light but devastating.

“tell me to stop,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, her lips inches from yours.

you should. you knew you should. but you were too far gone.

instead, your hands found the fabric of her jersey, gripping it tight as you whispered, “don’t.”

her smirk deepened. her hand snaked its way up around your waist, fingers slightly curling as she pulled you in, closing the distance between the two of you. fully.

you let out a sigh against her lips, as if a clear indication of some of the tension between the two of you finally relieved. your hands scrunched the hem of her jersey and pulled her in even closer, her heated body now flushed against yours.

your hands snaked their way up her chest and to her neck, pulling her face in to deepen the kiss. you don't know what's gotten into you. you've never been this physically forward with anyone before, let alone someone you've met for less than four hours.

but it was something about billie. something incredibly intoxicating, that made you crave for her more than you’ve ever craved anyone.

her lips were warm, softer than you imagined, sending a slow heat curling down your spine.

she made a low sound, almost like a hum of approval, before tilting her head, kissing you deeper, harder—like she wanted to take her time and ruin you all at once.

the bathroom was too warm now, the air thick with the scent of her cologne and something unmistakably electric between you. when she finally pulled away, just barely, her lips were slick and slightly swollen, her breath mixing with yours.

“you taste sweet,” she murmured, voice husky, lips inches away from yours.

your hands slid up her nape and ran through her silky hair, tugging on her roots slightly as you brought your lips together again, completely ignoring her comment.

a soft, breathy moan slipped from billie’s lips into the kiss, vibrating against your mouth, and it sent a bolt of heat straight through you. the sound was low, almost involuntary, like she couldn’t help herself, and god—if that didn’t make your knees feel weak.

your grip on her tightened, fingers curling into the fabric of her jersey as your body pressed closer, your other hand lightly scratching the skin on her scalp, chasing that feeling, wanting to hear it again.

she exhaled sharply, her hands gripping your waist with just a little more force, like she needed you just as badly.

you pulled away just slightly, catching your breath as your eyes glazed over the life-altering view that was billie– breathless and eyes dark with desire in front of you.

your lips found its way to her jaw, peppering light kisses that sent billie's mind into a frenzy. they trailed down the curve of her jaw before pressing softly against the warmth of her neck.

the hitch in her breath was immediate, followed by the way her fingers dug into your waist. billie did not expect this from you, not one bit.

encouraged, you let your lips linger, barely ghosting over her pulse before pressing another kiss, slower this time. a quiet, shaky exhale left her lips, and when you sucked lightly at her skin, her grip on you tightened—hard.

"fuck," she whispered, voice breathless, like you had just knocked the air right out of her lungs.

you smirked against her skin, hands sliding up her sides as you pressed another open-mouthed kiss to the sensitive spot beneath her ear. "hmm?" you murmured, pretending like you didn’t know exactly what you were doing to her.

billie let out a low, almost desperate sound, tilting her head back just slightly, giving you more access. "you're dangerous," she breathed, and you could feel the way her heartbeat raced beneath your lips.

you smirked against her skin, more than pleased to have the raven haired girl wrapped around your pinky finger.

"who knew you had it in you? the shyest girl in the room." billie lets out a shaky laugh, her hands sneaking underneath your shirt, nails lightly scraping the skin of your lower back.

you shivered at her touch, her fingers sending sparks up your spine as they traced slow, lazy patterns against your skin. you could hear the smirk in her voice, feel the way she was soaking in every reaction you gave her.

"maybe i just needed the right motivation," you murmured, pressing another slow, deliberate kiss to her neck, letting your teeth graze her pulse point before pulling back slightly.

billie’s breath hitched, her grip tightening on your waist. "yeah?" her voice was lower now, almost hoarse. "and i’m guessing i’m the motivation?"

you hummed in response, lips brushing against the shell of her ear as your hands slid up her sides, fingertips teasing over the fabric of her shirt. "what do you think?"

she let out a quiet, breathy moan, and you felt it more than you heard it, the sound reverberating against your lips. it sent a jolt of heat straight through you, pooling in your stomach.

"fuck," she muttered, her hands tugging you closer, her forehead resting against yours. "you’re actually gonna kill me, you know that?"

you grinned, tilting your head slightly as your fingers tangled in the soft strands of her hair. "then what a way to go, huh?"

she laughed softly, but it was cut short when you kissed her again—deeper this time, slower, like you had all the time in the world to drive her crazy.

"let's get out of here."

[berryispunk]

When Words Fail, Let Me Stay

pairing: Frankie Morales x gn! reader

notes: Detailed discussion about depression so be aware before reading. I wish I could (finally) write something happy but I can't.

tags: heavy on mental health struggles (depression), spoilers for 'Jane the Virgin', mention of loss, soft! Frankie, best friend! Frankie, comfort, hurt, fluff, no physical description of reader

summary: Trapped in your own head, you find a glimmer of comfort and connection in your friend Frankie.

word count: 1,5 k

It crept up on you. Slowly but surely, swallowing you piece by piece until there was nothing left. You should have known better—should have reacted sooner. But you stayed rooted in place, watching the waves crash around the abyss beneath you. You went on with your life, going through the motions without really being there at all. You didn’t even register words anymore, conversations growing harder by the day. Your apartment mirrors your inner mess perfectly: used plates and glasses stacked up, waiting to be cleaned, but you can’t bring yourself to do it. Even if you wanted to—even if you had a tiny bit of energy left—as soon as you saw all the work that had to be done, you froze all over again.

So the days went on, and you rotted in your bed, the only place you found comfort. You doom-scrolled through various social media apps, desperately trying to fill the void with anything. But it was to no avail. You isolated yourself from everyone. You didn’t want to be a burden to them or worry them more than necessary. Of course, the healthier option would be to at least open up to someone—anyone—but how were you supposed to untangle the mess in your mind enough to explain it? You were afraid that if you told anyone about your darkest thoughts, they’d step back—afraid of being pulled into the darkness with you. How would they understand, anyway? No one is you. Thankfully.

One evening, you lie in bed, your favorite TV show playing for the hundredth time—just background noise to drown out the voices in your head. Your phone buzzes on the nightstand. Once. Twice. You ignore it, too lost in your own haze to care.

Then it buzzes again. With an irritated sigh, you reach for it.

__________________________________________________________

Frankie Morales 🚁3 New Messages

[10:30 p.m.] Hey hermosa, what was the name of this show you liked so much again?

[10:31 p.m.] It was something with ‘Virgin,’ that’s all I remember 🤔

[10:32 p.m.] It was the one where the abuela talks Spanish most of the time and you always ask me what she said… grr, please help 🆘

Even in your current state, you can’t help but let a faint smile tug at your lips. It’s completely random—but still, you decide to reply, if only to stop him from pestering you.

_________________________________________________________

🍓: I guess you mean Jane the Virgin.

Frankie Morales 🚁: YEAH!!! That’s it. I was going crazy over here. Jane the Virgin, right.

🍓: I’m glad I was able to help. I’m actually watching it right now 😅

Frankie Morales 🚁: Oh, really? Interesting. At this point, I bet you could reenact every scene without even thinking. How many times have you rewatched it by now?

🍓: Don’t be mean, Frankie. And honestly, I have no clue anymore 😅 Maybe the 6th or 7th time.

Frankie Morales 🚁: Which season are you at?

🍓: Just started Season 3. Michael got shot after their wedding. They’re at the hospital, and Michael’s mom is being a bitch to Jane.

Frankie Morales 🚁: Oh, alright. I remember. Season 3 is so intense, isn’t it?

🍓: Yeah, but it’s not my favorite.

Frankie Morales 🚁: Which is your favorite?

🍓: You’re asking ME? That’s impossible to decide!

Frankie Morales 🚁: C’mon, you have to have some preference. I think mine’s Season 1 meeting all the characters and the chaos starting.

🍓: Oh yeah, Season 1 is definitely in my top 3. But I also really love Season 4, even though it’s super sad. The way Jane deals with grief… I felt seen. I actually started watching the show shortly after my grandma died. The dynamic between Jane, Xo, and Abuela is just so comforting to me. I miss my grandma. 😔

Frankie Morales 🚁: I’m sorry, hermosa. I didn’t know about your grandma.

🍓: It’s okay, I don’t talk much about it. Just another one of those things that makes me too sad to bring up.

Frankie Morales 🚁: That’s fair. Hey, I was wondering—should I pick up where you’re at so we can watch together? 😄

🍓: You don’t have to. You already rewatched it twice with me. I’m sure you have better things to do on a Friday night than sitting through my comfort show again.

Frankie Morales 🚁: I was actually supposed to go out with the boys, but I ditched them last minute. Just wasn’t in the mood. You know that feeling? 🧐

Yes. More than he probably realizes.

🍓: I’m the wrong person to ask, Frankie. I always prefer a night in with movies and snacks over going out. 😅

Frankie Morales 🚁: My bad, preciosa. 😂

You’re not sure why, but suddenly, you feel the urge to tell him—just a little—what’s been running through your head. It’s always easier over text than saying it to his face. Especially when he’s looking at you with those damn warm, worried brown eyes.

🍓: Honestly, I haven’t been in the mood for anything the last few days.

Frankie Morales 🚁: Oh? How come?

You sigh.

🍓: I guess my depression has me in a chokehold again.

Frankie Morales 🚁: That sucks. Anything I can do?

There it is again. His fucking attentiveness. It’s one of the things you love most about him, but in times like this, when you struggle so hard, it makes your heart ache. You don’t deserve this kind of care, do you? Not after pushing him away so many times. But the warmth in his words reaches you in a way nothing else has in a long time.

🍓: I don’t know, Frankie. I don’t think there’s much anyone can do. It’s just one of those times where everything feels too heavy.

Frankie Morales 🚁: I get that, hermosa. But you don’t have to carry all that weight alone. Maybe I can come over?

You stare at your screen, fingers hovering over the keyboard. The idea of company is both terrifying and tempting. You want to say no—after all, your apartment is a mess, and so are you. But then you think about the quiet presence Frankie brings, the way he never pushes, just stays. The way he has always made you feel a little less alone. He feels like a warm fire, bringing in light—even when you don’t want it. He may be the one person who truly understands your pain after everything he’s been through.

🍓: I appreciate that, Frankie. Really.

Frankie Morales 🚁: Anytime, preciosa. You know I mean it.

A small, tired smile tugs at your lips. Typical Frankie.

🍓: Can I be honest with you about something?

Frankie Morales 🚁: Always.

🍓: I hate feeling like this. It’s like I’m stuck in a loop. No matter what I do, I just end up back here—tired, unmotivated, isolating myself. I know I should reach out more, but I don’t even know what to say half the time. The chaos in my head is unbearable for me. How am I supposed to explain it to someone else?

A long pause. For a second, your heart clenches in panic. Maybe you overshared. But before you can spiral further, your phone buzzes.

Frankie Morales 🚁: You don’t have to explain it perfectly, hermosa. I get it. More than you probably know.

Something in his words makes your chest tighten.

Frankie Morales 🚁: You don’t have to fight this alone. Let me come over. I’ll bring snacks. No pressure. No expectations. Just company.

You exhale shakily.

🍓: …Okay.

Frankie Morales 🚁: Be there in 20. Want anything specific?

🍓: Just you is fine.

You toss your phone onto the bed and let out a shaky breath. This doesn’t fix everything. It doesn’t lift the weight in your chest or clear the fog in your mind. But for the first time in a long time, you don’t feel like you’re carrying it alone. And that’s because of Frankie—because he cared enough to reach through the silence, to remind you that someone still sees you. And most importantly, care enough to stay. To keep trying, even when you pull away. To offer kindness without expecting anything in return. It’s a small thing maybe, but to you, it feels monumental.

thanks for reading <3

my masterlist

[think0fmehigh]

prof!matty phone sex 🤲🏻

me and elle are an elite combo sry

it’s your second night by yourself this week and you’re counting down the days until your fiancé is cuddled next to you again. matty was required to attend a professional development conference a few hours away for his job. you recall him begrudgingly packing his suitcase while you folded some of your own laundry the night before he left.

it wasn’t really a ‘bring your partner’ work trip and quite frankly, he wouldn’t dream of subjecting you to such a boring and stressful week around his fellow professors. he expressed to you how much it pains him to leave you here by yourself—making sure to add that he’ll text or call to check in at least a couple times a day.

he had a late night yesterday, opting for just a sweet goodnight text instead of a call. tonight though, he already messaged you that he’ll call you when he gets to hotel in about fifteen minutes.

upon reading his message, you decide you want to torture him a little bit, since you’re so very bored at home without him.

you quickly start to shift through his side of the closet, finding a crisp black blazer that very much smelled of his cologne. perfect, you think, laying it on the bed and striping off the clothes you currently have on.

once you’re naked, you sling the oversized blazer over your shoulders. it engulfs you, but leaves enough skin uncovered to make a lovely picture for matty. you pose in front of the mirror, snapping multiple angles before sending the one that turned out best.

what do you think? x

he reads it immediately, still in the midst of his ride back.

Fuck…couldn’t wait until I got to my hotel room, dirty girl?

Look so fucking gorgeous in my clothes.

you bite your lip, nails tapping loudly against your screen as you text him back. it’s hard not to feel a bit of heat in your stomach when he says things like that.

no i couldn’t. miss you a lot, call me asap ❤️❤️

he hearts the message (you def taught him how to do that) and you go to sit down on the bed, placing the phone next to you while you await his call. his smell is so potent on his blazer it feels as though he was right here hugging you.

it doesn’t take long for his special ringtone to fill your ears and you reach over to pick up the phone.

“hi, darling,” matty says lowly over the line, his voice alone causing more arousal to gather between your legs.

“hi, daddy,” you giggle, laying back on the bed and letting the blazer fall open, exposing you completely.

“do you still got my blazer on, baby?” he questions, and you heard brief shuffling in the background. he must’ve called right as he unlocked his room.

“mhm, want me to send you another picture?” you purr, one finger lightly tracing the expensive fabric of the blazer.

he unbuckles his belt, making sure the phone picks it up. the sound alone drives you crazy. “you better, sweetheart.”

you smirk, opening up the camera app and taking a picture of you on the bed exposed, the blazer doing nothing but sitting at your sides now. matty peels off his slacks and dress shirt before settling into the fresh white linen. “i think you’ll like this one,” you tease, sending a few pictures over before dropping the phone beside your pillow.

“naughty fucking girl,” he breathes, easing his hand into his boxers as he studies the lewd photo. he hisses as he wraps his fingers around his hard cock. “shit, ‘m so pissed i’m not with you right now.”

“i’d already have your cock in my mouth if you were.”

“you’re going to kill me, baby,” he grunts, freeing his length completely. his head drops back against the headboard and he slowly eases his hand up and down. “play with yourself, angel. want you to feel good too.”

you moan softly, doing exactly that. your body feels as if it’s melting with molten desire, igniting a flame in your lower belly that only can burn for him. you reach up to knead your tits for a moment, pinching a nipple as you spread your legs. his cologne lingering on the blazer has just made you need him more.

“can i use the vibrator you got me, daddy?” you whine, hearing him chuckle. he speeds up the pace of his hand only a little, swiping his thumb over his sensitive tip to collect the pre-cum.

“needy little thing. yeah, go on. whatever you want, sweetheart.” his mouth twitches into a smile as you open your nightstand drawer to retrieve the device. he sets the phone down beside him on the mattress, knowing he’ll be able to get off just by listening to you.

you flip the toy on, the buzzing sound making matty give you a pleased hum. his free hand reaches up to take off his glasses, setting them on the nightstand. “good girl—put it on your clit for me, darling.”

a tiny gasp escapes you when you do, blinding pleasure licking up your spine. “fuck,” you cry, “feels so good.”

matty closes his eyes, once again speeding up his hand. his hips buck up as he groans, gently pressing his thumb into his slit just like you do. “good thing i got you some toys to keep you satisfied, huh? could never be happy with just your tiny fingers, right, bunny?”

you shake your head like he can see you, pressing the vibe a bit harder on your swollen bud. “can i fuck myself with this, please? you’re right, m–my fingers won’t help…”

“hold on, baby. we got time, relax. want to hear you cum first just like that…”

you should’ve known he’d make it a long night.

[ethereal-w0lf]

I’m gonna do a hatchetfelid fans favorite thing, think of the implications.

Spoilers under cut for: Time Bastard, The guy who didn’t like musical, Nerdy Prudes Must Die, Black Friday

The colors I used will be when I refer to information from that entry.

We know Ted is the homeless man and The homeless guy dosen’t exist without the events of time bastard. But the homeless man is in every stage production. Dying at the end or start or being mentioned

This tells us Ted is mentally tortured by tinky in EVERY TIMELINE because like I said no torture no homeless guy.

What I think makes it sadder is he tries to talk to his friends or family in it’s implied he tries to talk to Pete and make a connection again but Pete just calls him creepy and weird. He also tries to get help from Paul specifically in the events leading up to La Dee Da Day.

I just want us to reflect on how depressing this is. He gets mentally broken by a god and dropped off at a time with him before being broken so he can only watch and know it will happen to that version of him too. He tries s to rely on his family and friends but can’t because they don’t recognize him so he is totally isolated being forced to watch his life again and have none of the people he cares about help him.

And so little people care he fades into the background. The toy only appeals to people who are isolated and unhappy with their lives. Ted is one of the people most aggressive and first to get aggressive over the wiggly and genuinely that saddest thing. He either dies next to his brother and best friend, he dies and his manipulated corpse torments his best friend or he entirely vanishes not being able to see his brother grow up because of the fact he’s scared of ted.

So yeah Ted is so tragic and tortured because of the sadist goat

[lotusfish]

the swamp monster |pt.1| r.itoshi

a/n : hello everynyan! ive been so deep in blk brainrot lately and ive been reading so many ffs on here and drafted one up myself... ive been bored so thought why not post my own. please excuse the bad grammar as english isnt my first language and i dont think my writing is that great. however if you do decide to read this, thank you!

ALL CHARACTERS ARE AGED UP! READER USES FEMININE PRONOUNS!

3K WORDS!

NOT PROOFREAD... ;(

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Congratulations! You’ve been accepted as our newest team member of Blue Lock, the leading team of Science and Technology. Please confirm your details below… 

“Huh…?” 

Squinting your eyes as you leaned closer to the bright computer screen, it didn’t help that you were also sitting in complete darkness. “-I was, uh, accepted?” Your voice came out more as confusion than disbelief. “What? Did you even get a job interview with them?” Your friend’s muffled voice spoke through the phone speaker, her tone rather skeptical. 

“No,” You huffed under your breath as you repeatedly pressed the ‘refresh’ button on the keyboard. ‘Maybe it was some sort of accident? But why would they use my name?’ The thoughts swirled in your mind as the blank page loaded back up the unmistakably addressed “in your full government name” email. 

“I guess I’m now, uh, employed?”

-

You, a once brilliant student that had excelled in every task you did. The pride and joy of your parents, you worked so hard for their attention since birth. Every positive report card, a smile and hug.

 “Honey, we're so proud of you!” 

Every gold medal and award, more praises and head ruffles. 

“You are our pride and joy.”

Toothy grins, loving friends, scraped knees, ambition, sunshine, fresh grass, rain, thunderstorms, heavy, tired, tired, tired. 

A young star who shone too brightly had burnt out, crashing hard and fast into reality. 

Everything began to feel meaningless as you moved slowly through the thick of it all, your youth was supposed to be the best part of your life yet all you felt like a puppet lead on strings. Dancing till your feet bled, entertaining the masses.

By the time you finished high school, you had remembered the looks your parents had given you as they circled around you like a pack of hungry hyenas. Starved for more, when did it stop being your life and became theirs? You had told them that you wanted to take on some part-time work rather than head straight into university when reality was that you wanted to slowly disappear between the slips of time, becoming nothing. Maybe then people won’t have such high expectations of you or maybe you were just a waste of space like what your parents had said.

“Miss, we’re here.” The voice of the taxi driver had snapped you back into reality, losing your train of thoughts. You thanked him as you handed over the cash, unbuckling the overly-tight seatbelt and stepping out of the vehicle. The salty air of the ocean hit you almost instantly as you looked up at the large building standing tall in front of you. Using one arm to shield your eyes from the bright sun rays as you read the large letters across the building. ‘The State of Science: BLUE LOCK’.

God knows how you landed this job, without any experience nor interview. But the strange man on the phone assured you that you would be the perfect fit for this job as he had looked into your background (creep?!) and gathered some personal data of yours (is this a crime?).

After much persuasion from your friend, jokingly calling you a NEET and saying you spend way too much time inside and that you have nothing to lose if you went. If you didn’t like the job then you could always quit, right?

“Right.” You mutter softly as you nervously fiddled with the strap of your bag, heavy from all your personal belongings. The man on the phone had requested you to bring some with you as a part of the job required you to stay over in the facilities for a couple of nights. Whatever it was.

Stepping through the automatic glass doors, you are immediately greeted by security guards. Handing over your bag as you stiffly hold out your arms, letting the guard give you a thural pat down. It wasn’t too surprising that they had such tight security measures as Blue Lock has become one of the leading science research departments across the world. 

What had caught you off guard was the over fifty page NDA booklet placed in front of you as you were led into the next room. The woman, Anri, she introduced herself as, guided you through the process. ‘Anri is so lovely’, you thought as she showed you to your room in the facility after all the paperwork. By the looks of it, you two seemed around similar ages too. Maybe this whole thing isn’t so bad.

“Once you’re done unpacking, I’ll take you to Ego. He will show you what you will be doing.” Anri cheerfully explained as she flickered through the papers in her clipboard. You smiled reluctantly as the name Ego reached your ears. 

 The man, though you hadn’t even met him in person, already left a sour impression after the hour long phone calls and exchanged emails with him. He’s thoroughly convinced that you would be the perfect candidate for this ‘role’, whatever it is and he certainly made it very clear with the bombardment of texts when you accidentally missed another call.

“I think I’m ready.” You said as you placed your bag down by the foot of the bed, un-packing can come later, you thought. The nerves of this unknown job was killing you, maybe mixed in with a bit of excitement too. It had been awhile since you properly interacted with people other than your close friends.

 “Follow me.” Anri’s voice was already fading down the hall, you had to jog a little to catch up with the quick-paced woman. 

-

It seemed to take forever before the both of you reached a pristine white metal door. You felt a bead of sweat trickle down the side of your face. Before this, you were led by Anri through one elevator going down by almost 50 levels? You had lost count when you were then taken through a long hallway, followed by twists and turns before landing in front of another elevator; going down again. 

It almost felt illegal for you to even breathe in this building, what kind of sci-fi movie did you just land in? You casted a quick nervous glance at Anri beside you, who looked as relaxed as ever. A small smile resting on her lips as she pressed a thumb onto the keypad beside the large door.

The loud ‘DING’ that followed almost made you jump out of your skin as the door slid open smoothly. “C’mon, you’re gonna love this!’’ Anri assured as she walked in, casting you an expecting look.

If your jaw could hit the floor, it would have. As you stepped into the large room you were met with large monitors, tables scattered with papers, tubes and beakers. There were a few small tanks and cages filled with strange critters that you couldn’t name even if a gun was held to your head. What really caught your attention was behind all the scientific madness, leading up a small step of stairs to a viewing platform. The whole back wall was replaced by thick glass. The water behind the glass was murky, it wasn’t blue like the tanks of water you saw at the aquariums when you were little. The lights beneath the tank casted the whole room a deep forest shade of green, just like the water. You could see shadows of fishes swimming around in there yet through the algae floating around and tall plants threading through the waters peacefully, it was hard to tell what they were. The scene in front of you unknowingly filled you with tranquility, the jumping nerves you felt just mere seconds ago lost among the slow moving waters.

“Pretty neat, isn’t it?” The sudden booming voice definitely made you jump (and yelp, a little) as a shadow casted over your face, looking up you see a tall slender silhouette of a man as he stood proudly in front of the tank. “Ah, Ego this is-” Anri was abruptly cut off by a slim finger pushed to her face as the tall man took mere seconds to get down the steps, with long strides. Stopping right in front of you. “Shut up Anri, I know who she is.” The man spat, now that he was closer you could actually make out his facial features in the dark room. His large beady black eyes hid behind a pair of thick black framed glasses, yet they couldn’t hide his lack of sleep with the heavy eyebags beneath his stare. His face was pulled into a large almost comical frown as he stared down at you. “Welcome fresh meat.” He finally said after seemingly analysing you on the spot. 

“Um, thank you?” You raised a brow at the strange nickname but still responded. Without wasting a second, the man turned on his heels. “Follow.” He ordered as he made his way through the tables to the side of the room, with a sweep of a card, a small side door that you would’ve never noticed opened. You quickly followed after him, looking back at Anri to see if she was following but she was already head deep in reading something on her Ipad. You felt your heart speeding up a little again because of the jumping nerves as you followed Ego up a narrow set of stairs. 

Through pushing open the metal slab at the very top of stairs, almost like opening the small space leading to a dusty attic. You were met with an open room, roof and walls lined with heavy set silver bars. You stepped out on the platform, behind the tall man. 

“Woah.” A small gasp left your lips as you set your eyes on the scene in front of you. The stairs led the both of you to the very top of the large tank. Growths of lily pads and other types of aquatic plants scattered across the surface of the waters. A large tree stretched out from within the bog, you definitely wouldn't have noticed it from looking below the murky waters. If it weren’t for the strange metal cage bars this tank was encased in, you would have thought this place was painted straight from a medieval fairy tail.

“Well this place is still a bit of a work in progress, we’re trying to make it more homely.” Ego started, turning to look at you. “From today, you will be taking care of this place and the owner of this home.” He stated simply, gesturing to the swamp of water.

You furrowed your browns in confusion, “The owner? Of which home?” You asked, only to receive a large grin in response from Ego. “You will meet Rin soon enough, he’s a bit shy. He only really comes out at night but you don’t need to worry too much. As long as you do your job, everything will be fine.”

“Is Rin one of those creatures? Like from below in those tanks?” You ask, more confused at the explanation. Ego casted you a strange look before smirking again, “Yep. Something like that.”

-

You tugged at your new uniform, checking your reflection in the mirror. A plain set of white overalls, the BlueLock logo etched into the right breast pocket. You wore your striped long sleeve shirt underneath as well as your slightly worn down DocMartins. It didn’t look half bad! It was simple but you felt comfortable enough. 

The door to the locker room pushed open behind you causing you to turn, a freckled face peaked in. “Ah hello you must be new as well!” The young man spoke politely with a smile, he was wearing the same uniform as you. Ginger hair peaked out from beneath the matching white cap he was wearing. “Yes I am.” You introduced yourself, extending a hand to shake. 

“I’m Regan. Just started today as well. Anri told me to meet you here.” He said, grabbing your hand. “We should head there soon, ya nervous?” Regan grinned as he fixed his cap in the mirror. “A little, not gonna lie. The whole thing has been a little bit of a mystery to me.” You responded and Regan chuckled as he nodded. “Right? I still don’t really know what we have to do exactly but I’m glad I have you so we can figure this out together.” He gave your shoulder a little playful nudge and you laughed a little. This guy might be a little overly-friendly but you were also glad you have someone else to work with during this night shift. 

- 

 “Ugh this stuff stinks.” Regan muffled through his palm pressed to his face as he picked up the bucket filled with slush. “I know, let’s hurry.” You huffed back, covering your own nose as you picked up a bucket. Looking down, the content of the bucket looked to be a mixture of dead fish and other sorts of mystery meats? You gagged internally. The instruction left by Ego was to take the feed to this RIN creature. Simple enough, right?

The two of you made your way through the maze of a building (might have gotten lost a few times), finally found your way back to the big tank. 

“This place is so dope, man.” Regan said as he picked up a test tube from one of the desks, bringing it up to his face. You casted him a quick glance before scanning the keycard like the way you saw Ego did. The small door unlocked and slid open. Bless Regan, he seemed like a great guy, but from the past half an hour of knowing him. He’s almost talked your ears off. You suppose knowing about Regan’s whole bloodline and his family drama instead of your own inner monologue filling the silence was better in the seemingly empty building. 

“C’mon Regan.” You called out as you began climbing up the staircase with the bucket, careful not to disturb it too much with your movements. You’d rather not deal with that stench clinging to you for the rest of the evening. “Coming!” Regan’s loud voice echoed behind you, followed by his footsteps clanking against the metal staircase.

Finding your way back to the top of the tank, you set the bucket down. Despite the smelly bucket next to you, the large room smelt of fresh grassy woodland. It was hard to describe, slightly earthy? Was there also a hint of floral from the blooming lilies? The plants of the man-made swamp really made up for the dull exterior. 

‘ Flomp! ’ 

You watched as Regan poured the slimy content of his bucket into the water, the wet sounds reaching your ears making you scowl in disgust. Regan caught your gaze and frowned, “What? Isn’t that what we’re supposed to do? Feed this Ren thing?” He huffed, taking a step closer to the edge of the platform before getting on his knees and peering into the dark water. “What is this thing anyways, have you even seen it yet?” Regan’s contorted face asked from the reflection of the rippling waters.

You frowned, taking a step towards the ginger. “No I have not and I wouldn’t get so close. Ego said not to-” You were cut off by the man sticking his whole arm into the water, swishing it around. “Do that…” You deadpanned. 

“It’s fine.” Regan rolled his eyes, “It’s probably a small sort of small extinct fish that they are trying to keep-” It happened so fast, a long muscular pair of arms reached out from beneath Regan and dragged the man by the collar of his shirt and into the murky water. It took you a few seconds to process what you had just witnessed before you screeched out Regan’s name, rushing to the edge of the platform. The waters were still for a moment before Regan’s pale arms splashed about the surface, his freckled face emerging for a moment as he spat out a mouthful of water. His panicked eyes met yours, “Can’t- SWIM!” He gasped, before disappearing below again.

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

The alarms in your head were going haywire, should you call Ego? Anri? What should you do?

Stupid fucking Regan.

You took in a deep breath before leaping off the edge, the cold water hit your warm skin like a slap. You dove deeper beneath the waters, looking for the familiar head of red. Yet it was so hard to see through the swirls of green, everything was dark and shadowy. You fought hard to keep your eyes open as you pushed yourself further into the tank with your arms, looking around frantically.

From the corner of your eye you finally caught a glimpse of pale skin through the shadowy water, without hesitation you reached out and grabbed the arm. Pulling hard as you kicked your legs, turning to pull the both of you to the surface.

Yet as much as you kicked, you felt like you were going nowhere. 

‘Why is this bastard so damn heavy? ’ The thought crossed your mind as you turned your body to face him, hoping that using both of your arms might help a little more. 

You felt your whole body freeze as you finally met eyes with a pair of sharp emerald eyes. 

Those are not Regan’s eyes!

Though the water was murky, those cat-like eyes were clear as day. They almost seemed to glow against the dark as they stared deeply into your own wide terrified ones. Your grip on the creature’s arm never loosened, you couldn’t even answer yourself why. 

Maybe it was the shock? The creature, no, man? His face was the most ethereal thing you’ve ever laid eyes on, his pale lips were pressed in a thin line. His face was small, almost feminine like with the especially long eye-lashes that framed those beautiful emeralds that sat perfectly between his slim nose, his pupils were animalistic, sharp black slits watching your every move carfully. His inky hair blended into the waters, flowing gracefully around him.

Without thinking, your free hand slowly reached out towards the creature. Ever so carefully cupping his cheek. He had watched you the whole time, sharp eyes drifting from your face to your hand before looking back at you again. He didn’t respond in any way as he felt your warm touch, face remained blank as he observed your curious gaze.

Time seemed to stand still as the two of you shared this strangely intimate moment. All of your worries and thoughts disappeared at this moment, just nothing. Like what you had always hoped for, to just exist so simply. How could someone look like this? So hauntingly beautiful, you couldn’t breathe. What was this darkness? You had always had a fear of the dark, the unknown yet how could this feel so comforting? You couldn’t breathe. Everything was so quiet, you couldn’t feel the cold water nipping at your skin anymore.

Blackspots began appearing around your vision, you hadn’t even realised that you were running dangerously low on oxygen before you let out a gasp. Air bubbles clouded your vision, that gorgeous face disappearing among them.

No, I want to see you again!

Everything fades to black.

[cosmic-nia]

Hey Nia! Question-(from someone who only uses procreate on his iPad and doesn't own his own computer)- How do you make your animatics? I'm extremely curious because I'm at a point where I'd like to start making them myself but I don't really know where to start! What programs do *you* use? Any tips? If not that's cool 🐯 -Thank you!

OMG HI CATAA

I actually also use procreate. As a matter of fact, I also use it for my animatics!

I’m not really good at explaining stuff as I’m not a professional so I hope this alright for you lol

so what i do, first i start to visualize how i want the animatic to look like. Listen to your chosen audio a couple times (for me its almost a hundred lol) if you have one and just start to imagine how your animatic will look like, how it’ll move and all that.

Then, I just open up Procreate and start drawing. If you’re doing something more complex, I suggest doing some thumbnails to get a general idea. But if it’s something silly and short, i just draw and go from there. BUT THATS JUST MY OPINION!!

here’s what my canvas looked like when i was making my animatic 👇

obviously, the backgrounds and the drawings are in separate layers. Usually, my drawings don’t have color, but I decided to colour them for this animatic. I merged both the line art and the colour together for a couple of frames. Some of them I also merged with the background, mostly just to reduce the amount of layers and prevent a bit of clutter. I know it sounds a bit tedious doing this on one canvas, but I think I manage.

Then, I take those drawings and put them into my editing app, which is Capcut! I mostly just go back and forth when completing a drawing then putting it in capcut, checking it for a while before going right back to drawing, and the cycle continues until the animatic is finished!

A tip i learned from an old tutorial video from theodd1sout- if you want to give your animatics a sort of bouncy look, duplicate your chosen drawing and distort one slightly. Then, go to your editing app and add your distorted drawing- make it last for one or two seconds- then add your original drawing. It will then look something like this!

so yeah! That’s basically how my whole process goes! If you’re just starting out, I think Procreate and Capcut are your best shots! Of course, I’m not a professional or anything, so I suggest looking up animatic tutorials online because they’d explain it better haha

I hope this is a good explanation and good luck with whatever you choose to do, Cata!^^

[fangdokja]

First of all, when I read, "Maybe I spent too much time staring at my hot history teacher back in school," my immediate reaction was:

Not surprised. I know people like that. Not one of them, but I’ve encountered a few. Some things are just universal, I guess.

Now, onto the actual discussion.

1. The "Rich Daddy" Trope & My Background Influence

Yeah, I can see that my writing leans into corporate dominance and wealth, even in short works. Comes with the background. Money as a problem-solver is a real-life concept, so it naturally bleeds into fiction. Money-solves-everything is more than a trope; it's an actual mindset. A tool, a leverage, a form of control. You see it everywhere—legal battles, businesses, relationships, politics. People like to pretend power is about personality, but most of the time, it’s just about resources. And men with money? They have resources.

I do tend to write yanderes with money, and now that you mention it, thick wallets, thick bodies seems to be a recurring pattern. Must be subconscious at this point.

2. Power Structures in Yandere: Political vs. Brutal vs. Intelligent

Your perspective on yandere as inherently political is interesting. It makes sense—power structures dictate control, and yandere is all about control. The illusion of security is a big theme in political power. Soldiers, politicians, law enforcement—they hold power that isn't necessarily moral, just institutional. The people you trust to protect you? They're often the ones with the most power to hurt you. That’s a horror concept on its own.

I can see why you gravitate toward manipulative yanderes. It aligns with your preference for those with social, legal, or institutional leverage. There’s something uniquely terrifying about a yandere who doesn’t need brute force because the system itself is on their side. Corrupt politicians, officers who can manipulate reports, leaders who shape the rules. Power without direct violence, just pressure.

Personally, I lean toward killers. Not just powerhouses—murderers, sadists, men who will hurt the reader if provoked. The horror element matters to me. A yandere who can kill and will kill. Not just someone who could ruin your life, but someone who will end it if you cross a certain line. No restraint, no safety net. That’s the kind of black-flag yandere I enjoy writing.

So yeah, I get the appeal of power structures, but for me, it’s about sheer danger. Some people like their yanderes oppressive through society. I like mine oppressive through murder.

3. Cyberpunk, Capitalism, and Political Themes

Cyberpunk fits your approach perfectly. It’s built on critique—of capitalism, unchecked power, and a broken world where freedom is an illusion. I personally enjoy cyberpunk aesthetics for the worldbuilding. The lore, the knowledge, the layers of history behind why everything became dystopian. I’m a nerd for understanding the why behind things. Societal decay, AI ethics, economic collapse—it’s a great setting for control-based horror.

I’m curious to see how you incorporate it. Given your perspective on power, your Cyberpunk Fairytale series will likely lean into systemic horror—not just one man with control, but an entire infrastructure that enforces it. Should be a strong setting for your style.

4. My Approach: Business Mindset & Yandere Intelligence

Your writing leans political. Mine leans practical. I’m not politically inclined, because business culture in general is neutral. Profit above all. Ideology is irrelevant when numbers determine success. Efficiency, structure, results. Those are the only things that matter.

That mindset absolutely influences my yanderes. If they’re going to be brutal, they also need to be smart. Intelligence is non-negotiable.

I don’t tolerate stupidity in reality, so I don’t tolerate it in my writing. Time is money. In business, being efficient is more important than being right or righteous. The best move is always the most calculated one. That’s how I build my characters. If you have a goal, you achieve it. No matter the cost. It’s not about brute force or emotional desperation—it’s about execution.

Business is about persistence. If you want to succeed, you keep going. Internet hate? Irrelevant. Obstacles? Move past them. When there’s a will, there’s a way. That’s the mentality that thrives in corporate culture, and it’s the same mentality that makes a truly terrifying yandere.

A yandere who will outlast you, outthink you, outmaneuver you.

They don’t need a system to protect them. They are the system.

5. Video Games & Psychology

Your game choices (Bioshock, Disco Elysium) make sense. They’re both political, heavy on ideology and societal critique. My favorites? Completely different spectrum. Mobile Legends (competitive, strategic, fast-paced) and Degrees of Lewdity (erotic rpg, lore-heavy). The only pattern is that I like dominance and intelligence. Whether in competition or in narrative.

If a game lets me either strategize or consume lore, I’m in. But my analysis leans psychological rather than political. I focus on human nature—morals, motives, the logic behind actions. That’s where my interest lies.

6. Reality & Background Differences

A noticeable point—our themes overlap, but our backgrounds are completely different. Your awareness of politics comes from direct experience. Regime changes, democracy struggles, the impact of imperialism. Those things aren’t theoretical to you. They’re everyday reality.

My perspective is different. Business culture is its own world—one where ideology takes a backseat to pragmatism. That’s the contrast. You write about the collapse of systems because you’ve seen them shake. I write about efficiency and strategy because that’s the environment I understand.

That contrast makes sense in our yandere preferences. Your yanderes are political powerhouses—men with leverage within the system. Mine are rational executioners—men who don’t need a system to exert control.

Either way, the result is the same: Total control. Absolute possession. No escape.

7. Final Thought: The Uniform Slut Comment

As for your last comment—massive slut for a man in uniform? Probably. But to be fair, uniforms are designed to be a power display. Authority, dominance, discipline. It makes sense why people find it attractive.

Personally? I don’t fixate on uniforms themselves, but power is power. Whether it’s political authority, military dominance, financial control, or sheer psychological terror. The core appeal remains the same.

Attraction to control isn’t random. It’s just pattern recognition.

About to catch a DUI from a state trooper, except it's late and neither his dash cam nor his body cam is on. One minute you're giving him your insurance and the next you're bent over his cruiser with your panties in your mouth. All sweet and condescending when he tells you this is what happens to dumb little sluts who can't handle their alcohol.

[nerd-artist]

I can’t wait to see the Alight gang together again in Horizon Zero Dawn Remastered 🔥

-This piece has been waiting for me since February, no better excuse to finish it!-

[lindenhe]

I was practicing with clothes and got a little carried away~

Also a little contribution for the tailor!Astarion au, because my Tav is a bard with a noble background and usually has a need in fancy outfits.