#I'm sorry if it feels like I'm singling you out

[bewaryofpity]

NEXT STEP IS LOVE - L. HUGHES

[2.0k] luke brings you to the family skate, surprising his teammates, and the usual “i didn't know you had a girlfriend” comes up, but this time luke has enough of calling you just his best friend.

warnings: none ! just some cute ol' fluff; probably really cringey 😔

a/n: she's a short one, and i’m not really fond of it but here it is anyway. sorry guys :(

“Didn’t know Luke had a girlfriend.”

“That’s because he doesn’t. That is his best friend.”

“Bullshit.” Kovacevic laughed in Jack’s face before turning his head back towards Luke near the bench.

Luke was kind of a private person so the idea of him having a secret girlfriend would have made sense to anyone, especially to the new guys he wasn't close with yet. But when Jack revealed that the girl in front of Luke was simply a friend had to be the biggest lie Kovy ever got told. Because friends don’t look at each other that way.

Luke’s fingers were trembling as he tied the laces of your skates carefully, making sure they weren’t too tight or too loose. He felt nervous having you here with him, which was strange because it wasn’t like you’ve never been around the guys before, but the new season meant new guys too. Which also meant that the same old dreaded question was going to come up at any moment.

“Good?”

You nodded in response before stretching your hands out so Luke could help you up the bench. You were wobbly at first, as he tried to hold back the teasing grin creeping on his lips, definitely not used to being on skates as often as him. 

You slowly made your way onto the ice, clutching his hand like your life depended on it. He couldn’t help but keep his gaze on your concentrated face, cheeks flushed from the chill of the arena as you found your rhythm. He was lost in his thoughts, stomach filling with butterflies when your hands squeezed his tighter. And if it weren’t for the little squeak you left out, he would’ve let you fall.

“Sorry,” he said with no hint of honesty in his voice while you shot him a playful look. 

It wasn’t long before you found your footing and let go of his hands to skate side by side. There weren’t many chances for you to hang out with Luke in these settings. The last time you skated together was when he was still a rookie, and he almost got in trouble too many times for using the rink after hours just to teach you how to skate, but you loved every single moment of it. So when he realized your day off coincided with the family skate, he didn’t hesitate to mention it and you couldn’t wait to be there for him, doing something you know would make him happy.

Though, the only thing that was different from those times was the fact that holding Luke’s hands now had your heart doing funny tricks on you. The newfound warmth that has taken over your body in his presence this past year or so was unexpected and scary because you were well aware what this meant and you couldn’t lose Luke over a stupid crush. 

If only you knew that he too got to a point where hiding his feelings for you was actually painful. He tried everything to spend as much time with you as possible. Faking being too tired to drive back to his place and sleep on your couch, missing optional skates, staying up at night before an away game just to hear your voice, letting you nap and waking you up only to convince you to spend the night at his place because i don’t want you to drive, it’s too dark outside and dangerous. It was all worth it in his eyes. But the ache in his chest everytime he had to leave you was becoming harder to suppress than he thought and he couldn’t take it anymore.

As he tried to grab at your brushing hands, Pesce stopped abruptly in front of you and almost knocked you down in the process. 

“Didn’t know Rusty here had a girlfriend.” He said with a grin before turning his attention to Luke, wiggling his brows in a teasing maner.

“Oh, no, I'm just a friend.”

“Oh.”

“His best… friend, actually.” You tried to smile as sincerely as you could. The question never bothered you before, you two were close enough that such was expected, but the way Luke couldn’t look at you during the exchange with his teammate created a pit in your stomach.  

Before he could take you away from the awkwardness of it all, Cotter skated over too. “Here we go,” mumbled Luke. 

“Meeting the girlfriend without me?” 

“Not the girlfriend apparently.”

"Really?" He asked, his tone skeptical as his eyes flicked between you. "Could’ve fooled me."

Luke groaned, not missing the way his teammates exchanged knowing looks and chuckling under their breaths. He couldn’t really blame his teammates for jumping to conclusions. If he were in their shoes, he might have assumed the same thing, it happened way too often anyway.

He grabbed at your hand and pulled you towards him, skating as far as possible from everyone. Was it really that obvious he liked you? Yet, you were still by his side, seemingly not phazed by the constant nagging and teasing from outsiders about your relationship, which could only mean that you didn’t like him back. 

Luke was tired of all of this and the months he spent burying his feelings for you, convincing himself that your friendship was enough, were all coming down on him now with everyone assuming you were a couple. Feeling heavy, he hoped the family skate came to an end soon.

“You alright?”

“Yeah,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry about them.”

“That’s okay.”

You nodded but didn’t press further, not yet at least. Your hand came to rest around his bicep, seeking his warmth and pretending to need balance as you grew tired. 

The easy rhythm you found earlier was now gone. Luke could tell you were trying to bring yourself comfort by staying close to him, though you kept your gaze on the ground which could only mean you were absorbed in your thoughts. And he hated that it was all his fault, he hated the idea of you thinking he was embarrassed or annoyed by the assumption that you were together. Because he wasn’t, he had dreamed of being your boyfriend more times than he‘d like to admit. And he wanted nothing more than being able to call you his. 

Sensing your exhaustion, he led the way towards the bench to change back into normal shoes. The rink was quieter now, families thinning out. You leaned back, stretching your legs, and looked at him with a small frown on your lips. You didn’t have time to reach down when he brought up one of your feet to untie your skate.

“What’s on your mind, Luke?” 

Luke hesitated, his fingers fumbling with your skate laces. “Nothing.” 

“It’s not nothing, Luke. You’re too quiet, what’s wrong?”

“Does it not bother you when people ask if we’re a couple?”

You blinked at him, startled by the question. It wasn’t what you expected, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. Luke had stopped untying your skate, his hands frozen mid-motion as he waited for your answer. His expression was unreadable, but you could see the tension in his shoulders and the way his jaw tightened.

“Bother me?” You repeated softly, the chill of the rink seemed to seep into your skin, though you weren’t sure if it actually was the cold temperature or the sudden shift in the conversation. “No, not really. I mean, it happens all the time, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Luke nodded slowly, looking down at your skate again. He resumed working on the laces, but his movements were slower now, almost hesitant. You shifted slightly, your other foot tapping lightly against the rubber mat beneath the bench. 

“Does it bother you?” You tilted your head, watching him carefully. 

Luke let out a quiet sigh and dropped his hands on your leg. “I don’t know.” He admitted. “Sometimes, I guess. Not because of what they think, but… because of what it implies.”

“And what does it imply?” 

You echoed, your voice barely above a whisper. Your heart began to race, the steady rhythm you’d been clinging to slowly slipping away. You couldn’t help but search his face for clues, for anything that might explain the sudden vulnerability in his tone.

Luke hesitated, his green eyes flicking up to meet yours for something — permission, maybe, or courage. And for a moment, he seemed to be weighing his next words, his brows drawing together in a way that made your chest ache. 

“Luke…”

“I like you,” he said, the words tumbling out in a rush, as if he was afraid he’d lose his nerve if he waited any longer. “I’ve liked you for a while now and I’ve been trying so hard to pretend that I don’t. I can’t stand being apart from you, I need you close to the point where I am not my own person anymore. I’m tired of the ache in my chest everytime I have to leave you, not just for roadies, but every time we part ways, it’s like I’m a different person without you that I can't recognize.”

“When they say stuff like that, it just makes it harder because I want it to be true. I want us to be more than just friends. I want to wake up next to you and come home to you every day.”

You blinked, clearly caught off guard. You tried to open your mouth as if to speak, but he pressed on, the words tumbling out like water breaking through a dam. His words started fading in your racing mind. His confession hung in the air heavy and raw, and all of it felt like you’ve been hit by a truck. Luke, your best friend, liked you and you were glad he hadn't stopped talking because, truly, you didn’t know what to say.

Luke’s heart felt like it might burst from his chest, every beat echoing in his ears as he braced himself for rejection, for awkwardness, for the possibility that he’d just ruined everything. The silence that followed when he stopped taking felt like an eternity. And for a moment, you just stared at him, expression unreadable. 

“You don’t have to say anything. I just… wanted you to know.”

You dropped your foot to the ground and scooted closer to him. As he turned to face you, your hand pressed against his cheek and you leaned in to place a delicate kiss on his lips. It was soft, almost hesitant, but it was enough to make Luke freeze. His mind blanked, and for a moment, he wasn’t sure if he’d imagined it. When you pulled back, your face was mere inches from his, your hand still lingering on his cheek. Your cheeks were flushed, though whether from the cold or the weight of the moment, he couldn’t tell.

His heart pounded in his chest as you bit your lip, your hand dropping from his face to rest on your lap. 

“It’s always been you, Luke.” Your gaze met his once more, the blush on his cheeks making him cuter than he ever looked. Luke’s eyes widened, still incredulous even after your kiss. 

“Really?”

“Really.” You smiled, a small, tentative curve of your lips as you nodded.

He leaned forward slightly clearing his throat, his eyes searching yours. “Can I kiss you again?” He asked, voice barely audible.

This time, the kiss wasn’t hesitant or fleeting. It was soft and tender, a promise of everything you both hoped to build together. When you finally pulled apart, your foreheads rested against each other, and for the first time in a long while, everything felt right.

“Hey, lovebird! Tone it down a bit, there’s kids around.”

Luke groaned at one of the guys’ teasing from the other side of the rink, and you laughed at his antics, the weight on your shoulders had finally been lifted off. 

“So… does that mean you’ll be my girlfriend?” You didn’t know your cheeks could flush any more, and smiling at his question, you reached up to brush a stray strand of hair from his face.

“Eh, I’ll have to think about that.”

[psychologeek]

I mean.

People CAN be?? All this??

Also saying you're an ally doesn't make you an ally.

And it's sort of the opposite:

Someone who isn't racist would support BLM. But what about someone who supports BLM, but also think that Black people are more violent and less intelligent than white people.

(or more common: black lives matter! But also, call the cops bc there's someone suspicious in my neighborhood (aka black); Assuming a Black person only got into uni/position for Diversity; etc.)

Someone who isn't homophobic!

But do they have to be like that in public? I mean, there are CHILDREN here! Oh, gay? Yeah, I don't have a problem with the kid with 2 dads in my kid's class. They are a nice couple. I just have a problem with all those perverts dancing on trucks in leather, or going half naked, you know?

(also I know a LOT of gay/lesbian ppl who are transphobic af)

Some "non antisemic" things I came across, personally.

On AO3, comment to my fic:

Me (on A/N): sorry I'm late with updates! I've been displaced bc there's war in my area and it's scary and hard to think.

Comment: oh, I'm so sorry! Praying for you! I hope you'll be safe and there'll be peace! Free Palestine!

Me (*A/N with the kidnapped symbol*)

Comment: deleted

(I guess Israelis don't deserve to feel safe or be in peace 🤷)

On discord, looking for a beta:

Me: (mention English isn't my first language)

Beta: oh, cool! What's then?

Beta: (finding out I'm Israeli)

Beta: (starting a political discussion about Gaza)

Me: *literally sleeping in the shelter, having PTSD, know people that were murdered/kidnapped, and have been displaced for several months*

(she didn't end up beta the fic, btw. Also not a single "are you safe" or "I hope you and your family are okay")

But again, I'm Jewish. I should prove I deserve things like respect and empathy.

("inhuman until proven", right?)

Edit: Jewish-only poll is posted here

*This poll was submitted to us and we simply posted it so people could vote and discuss their opinions on the matter. If you’d like for us to ask the internet a question for you, feel free to drop the poll of your choice in our inbox and we’ll post them anonymously (for more info, please check our pinned post).

[jadeleechwife]

the twst 1st years with a sensitive/ticklish s/o? 👉👈

hiiii thank you for your request ♡ I hope u like it !! I didn't include ortho because I don't feel comfortable with!! sorry for the bad grammar

Ace Trappola

- oh boy you're SO COOKED

- as he is always a brat, it didn't took longer for him to find out that you were really ticklish (that was even before you two enter in a relationship)

- before you were dating he was a tease about that but not that much, only tickling you in some specific situations to get the upper hand

- but when you start dating.... I'm so sorry for you

- he will tickle you at ANY given opportunity: to win arguments, to convince you of something, to call your attention when he is needy or just when he is simply bored

- as much as he loves teasing you to see you scolding him while squirming your body as he touchs your sensitives spots, he can't help but admit (to himself) that he just simply loves hearing your laughter echoing in his ears

- your smile, your laugh, that became his daily dose of serotonin, so he can't help but search for his dose every single day ♡

Deuce Spade

- honestly it really took a while for him to find out that you were ticklish

- as he was too embarrassed to touch you as he didn't want to make you uncomfortable, it took some time until he finally took a step to start touching you

- it was one of these times that he accidentally touched a sensitive spot, so you instinctively flinched

- he immediately stopped and became a stuttering mess, apologizing and avoiding your gaze

- you just laughed and reassured him that you were just ticklish, and he did nothing wrong

- he stopped for a bit processing the information but didn't know what to do about that

- putting a devilish smile, you asked him if he was also ticklish and threatened with your hands to look for his ticklish spots

- he pouted and blushed saying he has none but you still kept going, starting tickling him

- he started laughing and saying to stop, and as you were not stopping, he tackles you on the couch and started tickling you

- seeing you laugh non stop with your sweet voice made him the happiest in that moment, it made him think how much he adored you

- after that, to sometimes tease you he tickles you a bit, just to hear your laugh again

Jack Howl

- it also took a while for him to figure out you were ticklish

- he didn't touch you too much, but not because he was embarrassed, it's because he didn't want to break any boundaries

- eventually you convinced him that yes he can touch you and that you yearn for his touch

- at first he put his tsundere facade on, but he finally gave in and started touching you more

- in one those moments he saw you suddenly flinched and he immediately blushed from embarrassment and apologized

- you reassured him that you were just ticklish and everything was fine

- he was a little wary about that, thinking it was just an excuse to hind your discomfort, but then he calmed down and proceed to cuddle you again

- but again you flinched and laugh as he touched again a sensitive spot, making him surprised

- he asked how many sensitive spots did you have and proceed to touch as many spots as possible to see how ticklish you are

- and boy how you laughed, you were extremely ticklish

- completely flabbergasted, he scolded you for not having the ability to hide that you had so many "weak" spots, and that people could take advantage of it

- you just smiled and hugged him, saying that you didn't mind at all if it's him taking that advantage

- he blushed and looked away saying that you didn't hear him at all but couldn't help but hug you back

- oh what he should to with you.... he just loves you so much that's it

Epel Felmier

- he found out you were ticklish pretty easy

- as much as he was a little embarrassed to touch you at first, he couldn't help but wanting to cuddle you as soon as possible

- as you were cuddling, it didn't took too long until he touched a sensitive spot

- the moment you said you were ticklish.... oh boy he immediately putted his devilish grin

- and in a heartbeat he started tickling you non stop

- after that, don't you think that was over, in every cuddle section he always like to tickle you at the more unexpected moments

- you would be enjoying the cute moment between you two then BAM he suddenly tickles you

- yeah he is a completely brat about it but you can't help but still lowkey enjoyed

- after all he is soooo cute when he is putting his devilish act

- you kiss the tip of his nose fondly just to make him a blushing a mess

- ..... and to retaliate he keeps tickling you, tenfold

bonus: you both have daily tickles fights after cuddle sessions!!!

Sebek Zigvolt

- as much as sebek loves you, he can't help but admit that you are a goddamn brat

- you always love to tease and tickle him at any given opportunity, specially when malleus is around

- he always scolds you, but it's not like as you hear anything he said (despite his really loud voice), so you still keep doing over and over again

- one day, when he was in ramshackle dorm, you started again tickling and teasing him while you both were just relaxing on the couch when he suddenly gets up

- with his most imperative voice, he declares a tickle fight!!! the one who surrenders to the tickles first will admit defeat and accept any possible tickles for the rest of the month!!

- and so you were doomed.

- sebek immediately started a tickle fight and as much as you tried hard to find his sensitive spots, he was holding back his reactions and not flinching at all

- as for you... it took seconds for you to burst into laughter until u get so helpless to the tickles

- putting his triumphant grin, he declares his victory and his prize, saying to never underestimate him

- you pout, saying that was an unfair match as you were really ticklish

- he teases you saying to never pick a fight if your weakness is too exposed and say for you to be prepared as this was just the beginning of your punishment

- you sigh and lift your hands in defeat as you get up and go in his direction

- he immediately gets defensive thinking you wanted a secret rematch but you just kiss his cheek fondly

- he blushes saying that this wouldn't make him change his mind about your punishment but you just smile saying that you just wanted to kiss him as prize for winning

- his eyes softened as he sighs saying that he welcomes this kind of prize any time♡

[skele-bunny]

Just.......

I'm thinking about emotional support assigned ghouls again but specifically Dewdrop and Mountain and their relationship in the beginning.

Mountain came out kicking. Literally. Pissed off, teeth showing, not able to stand straight from how dizzy he was from the summoning portal. Immediately perceiving everyone in the room as a threat, all until that little fish stepped forwards. One that smelled of his home and similarly of his adoptive packs, their hands clasped together at their chest before slowly reaching forwards to take his hand.

Watching as he goes to his knees, big hands grabbing their hips, anger turning to confusion and curiosity as he tries to think if he's ever seen this freshwater before. Doesn't ring a bell but... They remind him of home. Bringing them closer, leaning over their head to lowly growl at the others who are watching.

"Shh... You're safe here." The water moving a little back and cupping a furry face. "Nothing will hurt you here. Or me. You understand, don't you?" In their shared tongue.

Dewdrop. His fish's name was Dewdrop.

Sitting in a much too small tub, fur and suds covering Mountain's line of sight but he's compliant and quiet as he feels Dewdrop scrubbing at him, softly singing to keep him calm and reassure. Eventually Mountain pulls him in and returns the favor, smiling as Dew starts purring and leans against wet fur to look up at him.

Mountain braiding Dew's hair, tail wagging as he gets to share something so intimate with him.

"—And this one is called a burger!" Dew's smiling so wide as he shows off what he got from the cafeteria for Mountain. "I didn't really know what your appetite is, or what you like, so I got one of everything. Is it okay?"

Mountain tilting his head, sniffing at each one before he looks at Dew and points at him. "Food."

"H-Huh?"

"Your food."

See, Dewdrop heard it as "you're food", face getting red and stiffening. Mountain just even more confused bc ??? "Fish? No?"

"Wait- Oh- OH!" Dew busting into laughter at his own mistake. "You're pescatarian? A water ghoul diet?"

"Yes."

"See, that makes SO much more sense." Dew taking the tray and leaving. "I'll be right back- with the right stuff this time!"

Mountain huffing as he's alone again, antsy once more as he wants to follow but he's still in a quarantine. Eventually Dew comes back and they end up sharing an overflowing tray of fish and sushi together.

"It's wasabi... It's hot..."

Bro starts coughing almost INSTANTLY and Dew's patting his back as much as he can wjkekd.

They're showering together, Mountain looking down and rumbling a bit as he gently scratches Dew's scalp. Looks up at him and smiles, tail ruffling and leaning back, hand touching his upper thigh. It was just a normal bodily response as Mountain got hard, fingers lightly trailing to Dew's jaw and admiring. Letting out a confused whine as Dew turned and got to his knees, a bit of nervousness over his body language and expression.

"I, uhm... I haven't had sex with an earth ghoul in a really long time. You have to go gentle with me, okay?"

Dew gets closer only to squeak as Mountain crouches down, frowning and poking Dew's forehead. "No. We're not having sex and you don't have to do that. I apologize. I'm not aroused. You just brushed on a sensitive spot."

He can see the little glint of a realized pain in Dew's eyes before nodding slowly. He's picked up and held tight in a hug. Mountain truly doesn't know the extent of how much that meant to Dewdrop, even after so many years.

Dewdrop holding his hand as he gives the tour of the ministry, being patient and answering any and all questions Mountain has; feeling a bit of pity as Mountain has to keep ducking to enter a majority of the common spaces.

"Sorry, I don't think they were prepared to have such a tall ghoul..."

"These humans are short, as are some of our fellows. I don't expect them to have to accommodate a single person over majority."

"Well, everyone deserves to be comfortable here. Just because a lot of people are smaller than you, doesn't mean you should have to be uncomfortable and bend over constantly just to get through a door."

Dew thinking a bit more. "Oh! I know the perfect place for you!! C'mon!" Dragging him back outside.

They end up at an old greenhouse, some of the panels broken and hidden in the woods. "This was here waaay before me. I think I'm the only one that's found it. There's so many abandoned places on the property so it's a bit of a fixer upper but... I thought maybe you should have a place too, you know? And!- and you can have so many plants in there! It's in the woods so, you know, your element!"

Mountain just smiles, watching Dew ramble and show the nearby shed, blabbering more and more about all the abandoned places he knows. They keep sneaking out to the greenhouse, Mountain slowly fixing it but constantly staring through the last panel that looks up at the stars, Dew curled up in his arm and head on his chest.

"It's so pretty out here..."

"It is."

And he's looking directly as Dewdrop who's unaware. "It's absolutely beautiful."

[i-just-dont-give-a-fuck-about-it]

Ok, but let's consider the speedsters? The time mess is like THEIR speciality.

Of course they know something is off. It just doesn't feel right.

So I'm imagining Wally at the speedforce idk, meditating or stuff (idk much about the character, sorry 😔) and out of the nowhere a cart appears in front of him.

"The time that the young bat smartest encounters living again and again, must come to an end.

But for the task to be completed, the great one must be pleased.

Break the eternal cycle, shall you let him have some peace.

Make sure he lives long and safe, or he will start again.

Your timeline is about to be broken, there's no more other chances.

A single hope I see in this future, but it all relies on your hands"

And with the letter was a tracker.

He obviously called a JL meeting.

Urgent.

He explains what happened and shows the letter, Batman goes still.

They all know it's referring to Red Robin, but why?

Wally explains that the most likely to send the letter was the incarnation of time itself, he could sense it due to his emotional connection to the speedforce.

They bring the JLD, they confirm that it's from the infinite realms' ancient of time.

The tracker supposedly tracks to the "Great One".

So with a little of magic they manage to sneak in to the place where the entity was staying.

Tim is there for curiosity and exasperation. First his boyfriend breaks up with him and now a powerful entity is obsessed with him to live and somehow trapped his universe in a time loop.

Only to find a very pathetic (adorable) Danny lying on the floor of an old haunted house crying and sobbing like a poor stray dog.

Huh.

***

Danny was lying on the floor of an old haunted house crying and sobbing like the poor stray dog he felt he was.

Because of his grieving for the future death of the love of his death (ha) he didn't notice the bunch of JL members approximating.

That is until he hears the voice (oh, that voice) of his loved one.

"Danny?"

Tim and Danny: The Couple That Could Have Been

Tim Drake and Danny Fenton weren’t just Gotham’s it couple—they were the couple.

Tim, the poised and brilliant CEO, and Danny, the charismatic streamer with a chaotic streak, were the kind of pair that inspired faith in love. Their relationship was public but never performative. The candid photos, the impromptu livestreams where Danny would drag Tim into the frame to tease him about his “ridiculously expensive suits,” the way Tim would smile when he thought no one was looking—it all seemed so real, so untouchable.

For years, they were inseparable, the picture of what love should look like. And Gotham believed in them. People joked that they’d be together in every timeline, every universe, because how could they not be? They were made for each other.

So when Danny uploaded a new video one unassuming Tuesday, everyone thought they knew what was coming.

The engagement announcement.

Danny’s setup was different this time—gone were the familiar vibrant backgrounds and playful chaos. The walls were bare, his face somber, his voice quieter than anyone had ever heard.

“Tim and I…” He paused, swallowing hard. “We’ve decided to go our separate ways.”

What?

No, that couldn’t be right.

This was Tim and Danny. The couple everyone was convinced would make it through anything. The couple people joked would find each other in every timeline, every universe, because it was always them.

But Danny kept talking, his voice trembling as he explained—without really explaining—that they couldn’t make it work. No details, no messy drama, just a quiet goodbye that left everyone feeling like the air had been stolen from the room.

———

The Batfamily found out the same way everyone else did—through Danny’s video. They hadn’t even realized anything was wrong. The last time they saw Tim and Danny together, they’d been the same as always: teasing, bantering, comfortable in each other’s presence.

Bruce was the first to confront Tim about it, cornering him in the Manor with that familiar stern frown.

“Tim, what happened?”

Tim didn’t answer. He couldn’t.

Because he didn’t know either.

Danny had been the one to end it. One day they were fine—perfect, even—and the next, he was breaking up with Tim over coffee, quiet and somber, like he was grieving something Tim couldn’t see.

“I just… we can’t,” Danny had said, his voice trembling. “I’m sorry, Tim. I love you. I’ll always love you. But we can’t keep doing this.”

And that was it. No further explanation.

Now, Tim was left packing up his things from the apartment they’d shared, trying to piece together what went wrong. Danny was on the other side of the room, just as quiet, boxing up his own belongings. They didn’t speak. Couldn’t.

The space between them had never felt so vast.

“I love you,” Danny had said, his voice breaking. “I’ll always love you. But I can’t… we can’t keep doing this.”

And just like that, it was over.

And Danny? Danny knew exactly why.

———

Danny Fenton was a coward.

He’d gone to Clockwork for help after the first heartbreak, unable to bear the thought of living in a world without Tim Drake. He couldn’t undo the pain of losing Tim to the Justice League’s doomed mission, but he could relive the good years.

Clockwork had hesitated.

“This is dangerous, Daniel,” he warned, but Danny didn’t care. He didn’t want to forget Tim. He didn’t want to move on.

So Clockwork granted him his wish.

Again and again, Danny went back. Every time their relationship reached the point of no return—where Tim’s inevitable death loomed on the horizon—Danny would break up with him, retreat to Clockwork, and start over. He couldn’t bear to see Tim die, not again.

But the cycle wasn’t perfect. The cracks showed with each repetition. Danny’s breakups became harder to explain, his excuses more transparent. He could see the hurt in Tim’s eyes, the way his walls went up higher and higher with every iteration.

And still, Danny went back.

Because he couldn’t stop.

Because he couldn’t let go.

———

This time, though, it was different.

This time, as he packed his things, Danny felt the weight of what he’d done pressing down on him like never before. Tim wasn’t angry. He wasn’t even questioning it anymore.

He just looked tired.

And Danny hated himself for being the reason why.

The world moved on, but Gotham felt the loss of Tim and Danny like a phantom limb.

The bats watched Tim retreat further into himself, his work becoming his sole focus, an impenetrable wall between him and everyone else. They wanted answers, but Tim wouldn’t give them. And Danny? Danny disappeared from Gotham entirely, his absence leaving a wound that never seemed to heal. Maybe that’s why Tim would find himself on that mission, before Danny's loop restarted everything again—caught in the endless cycle of fate, unaware of how close he was to losing it all for good.

Clockwork didn’t say anything when Danny returned again, his face pale and his hands shaking. He just stared at Danny with quiet pity, his form shifting through time as if he were trying to decide what version of himself could make Danny stop.

“You can’t keep doing this, Daniel,” Clockwork said softly.

Danny didn’t answer.

Because he knew he’d be back.

Because he couldn’t stop.

Because he’d rather relive the heartbreak a thousand times than face another world where Tim Drake was gone for good.

[angelesca]

w.c. 3.4k💀so much words for this crap / sunday x truckdriver!gnreader (dafuqq is this dynamic), small stories, 99% of the penacony cast are impressed by you(they should be), robin is a cutie pie, sunday is a closeted robin fan, you and sunday squabble daily, sunday your wonweek is showing💗, wrote this in the tumblr drafts vro🔥part crack a/n: farted this out bc i got inspired by this otome isekai manhwa i was reading [truck knight taekbae] + aesthetics inspired by [who made me a princess]

darkness monopolised your vision ever since you got here; day time never graced you. the insulated walls do their job well—only the vibrations, the frayed edges of sound, can be heard. 

chains grip your wrists, the metal twisting into your skin, wringing it like cloth. ouch. what now? maybe if you fart consecutively, and hard enough, you can blow your way out?

"brother... why…?" vibrations again. 

"don’t… monitor… danger."

the iron door creaks. light shines a single ray though the gap, and like the sun, the radiance blinds you. you squint your eyes, tracing the outline of two silhouettes.

the taller one approaches, each stride covering an equal, set amount of distance without a lost beat. "i have one question," their tone dashes against the whetstone, pointing a sharpened blade at you. "who are you?"

their eyes did not welcome any light, no reflection of you in them, as if you were only a whisper of the air. you feel the cracks in your throat. "me? i’m just a truck driver."

you are having tea with sunday.

after the less-than-ideal introductions, the picture cleared: you, a truck driver, are isekai’d into penacony via truck inception(?).

"i apologise for my manners," sunday sips his cup. "when you... suspisciously appeared in my bathroom, unresponding, there was no room to be courteous."

"sorry about that," you play with the rim of your cup awkwardly. "i'm not sure what happened either." the honest truth.

sunday shakes his head. he's majestic. "so, you said that you were…" he taps his chin.

"a truck driver."

"a criminal?"

"... truck driver."

“an assassin?”

"..." you almost turned into one.

little did you know, your lone walk was accompanied by a slithering shadow. except... it was no shadow. it was a dazzling spotlight that had fans and reporters following her repslendent glow, as expected of penacony's halovian songstress: robin.

"you mentioned you were a truck driver," finally, someone knows what a truck driver is. "will you allow me to see it?"

yes, your truck teleported into the dreamscape too. how could you live without them? they sit by a pavement on penacony's streets, hoarding the stares of confused citizens.

you watch an infinite cosmos flare in robin's incandescent eyes. your truck is just that impressive. "wow...! it's so beautiful!"

"what a curious machine," a blue and blonde-haired pair are analysing. "a vehicle that inefficiently operates on wheels? rather old-fashioned."

"what in the ever-lovin' fudge? my great-great-great-great-great gramps had one of those!"

"a sight of blissful beauty blooms before my eyes. amazing!"

“where am i?” 

“acheron, it hasnt even been a minute yet and you’re confused.”

people's eager stomping tremble the earth and sky. it's just that impressive. in the distance, an extra pair of wary eyes observe you.

"i admit, i am still suspiscious of you," sunday crosses one leg over the other. "robin sang nothing but praises. however, i'm afraid i'll need you under my surveillance to prove your trustworthiness."

urk. possessive much? "why are there knives, swords, and rocket launchers on the table?" sunday cocks an eyebrow at you, expecting you to make a move. "... i'm really not an assassin, sunday." but you do know his entire life story, so you're actually his stalker.

suddenly. the room blurs. an annoying static repeats, plucking the sensory wires from your circuit. is he... is he using his thingamajig powers?

"you may not be one... for now." he looks out a large window. you follow his gaze. wait a minute. what are they doing to-

“MY TRUUUUCK!!!” your passion transcends boundaries, past the lower-case and forcing the caps lock. lunging, you rush outside the mansion. "HEy!"

"aaaaa!! run!"

"eeek!"

"nyaa~!" who the hell was that?

"what the..." you are stunned. how dare they vandalise your truck! "was this your order?" you turn to sunday, infuriated.

"what will you do now?" a corner of his lips lifts, provoking.

you clench your fist. no one messes with you, the best truck driver, and only truck driver, in penacony.

hypothetically, if you got hit by a truck and ended up here, could you, a truck driver, hit a penaconian and isekai them over to your world?

"hey, robin?"

"hm?" her smile is innocent, gazing at you with a prospering kindness deserving of its own halo.

you smack your head. a dozen times over. then a few more.

"hey, aventurine?"

"hi hi~"

you shake your head. wouldn't his luck interfere? if anything, you'd be the one to get run over again.

"hey, acheron?"

"who are you?"

doesn't even know who you are despite telling her a minute ago. if she ended up in your world, she'd be asking the same question anyway: "where am i?"

you pick your nose. she'd slice you in half. period.

"hey, rappa."

"dazzling ninja rappa at your service!"

"as am i, the dimension-trespassing truck driving ninja!"

unfortunately, ninja roleplay with rappa is too fun. every friday, you play dnd together and you can't miss it this week.

there's only one person left.

"hey sun-"

"don't."

you stare blankly. "i didn't say anything?"

sunday glares back. "if you are going to speak to me, do it in front of me, and not while starting the engine of your truck."

"tch... damn."

"could i use your truck as a stage prop for my next concert?"

"oh, what if it suddenly rains?"

"what if i accidentally trip?"

you notice a gap in robin's behaviour. "how come you're so nervous today?"

robin looks at you, mouth on the verge of speaking. she looks down at her shoes. "hmm..." she tilts her head, lips mumbling. she hesitates, unready to spill her heart.

there's one thing you do best. you suggest, "why don't we go for a ride in my truck?"

robin's hunched back quickly reshapens itself. it's been some time since you've had a passenger, but with the way robin swiftly adjusts herself in the seats, excited, you don't worry about the mess in the truck. you start the vehicle, ready to stroll penacony's streets.

you hand her a piece of unexpired candy from a compartment, and she accepts the gesture. it doesn't take long before robin settles herself afterwards. she sighs. "... it's my brother, he'll be attending a show for the first time. i'm a bit nervous."

"why would he not be supportive?" you question.

robin shakes her head. "it may be because my brother is a perfectionist. i can't help but believe that he'll be expecting a flawless performance."

halovian songstress robin, a nation-wide icon, for her, expectations continually rise without rest. but for now, she sits next to you as robin herself, without the embellishments and performing. a breath of fresh air.

words of reassurance may be able to tend her heart. "make as many mistakes as you want," you comfort, "you are robin yourself before you are a singer, a civilian, and a sister."

the candy in her palm is scrunched. her heart, opens. robin herself, smiles. not because she is expected to, not because she is told to, but because she wants to. "thank you."

on the eighth day, grant... sunday getting down on one knee for you. wasn't this a bit fast?

your mouth opens. "are you proposing right now?"

"what are you on about?" sunday looks up at you, eyebrows scrunched. in his hands, a riiiiiiiiiiing- no, he's just cleaning his shoes with a cloth. better luck next time.

robin suggested to use your truck like a cabbie. that way, you can still keep your pride as a truck driver, and provide ears for wary hearts:

a student struggling with academics.

someone who doesn't know which direction to take.

the ramblings of a doctor whose words are spoken with precision, slicing his words into the victim's flesh. but behind the gloves are trembling hands that only wishes to sew tight the rotting wounds of a poor gambler, if only he would let him.

a galaxy ranger who witnessed the brevity of lives in the isolated expanse of the universe, walked along the shore of nihility. she departs with you her true name so that when she returns, your heart can accompany her solitude once more.

a young girl who cannot tell if the blood on her hands are someone else's, or her own. every allude to life reminded her of a deathly fate. however, as your passenger, she is reminded that she can forge a life of her own, undecided by destiny. penance and redemption, then, in the end, she hopes to regain her humanity.

you've listened to them all. unlocked each of their hearts, always gave back the key if they ever wanted to return again. turns out, the people of penacony are not much different from those in your world.

robin would pass out if she saw this.

from what you remember, there were 88 doors in the oak family's residence (you're a dedicated fan). you've explored each one, door 86, 87, 88... 89?

a secluded door that can only be seen with eagle eyes. the mystery kindles sparks in your chest, flaming curious fires. you slowly open the door. 86, 87, 88, 89... robins? (one for every door?) they all stare at you within their enclosures, as either posters, figurines, or books cover. in the middle sat a familiar head of grey hair, lowered, back turned towards you.

"sunday?"

the head moves up. gradually, it creaks. never in your life, did you expect to see a robin-crazed hidden room, nor a red-faced sunday. oh robin, the brother you were so worried about, is actually your no.1 fan. sunday's halovian wings flap furiously, doing nothing to cool his face down. his expression seems annoyed to have been caught in the act. "... what?"

"is this your robin shrine?" this is it. this will be your revenge, and the beginning tastes sweet. "so, you're the real criminal out of the two of us."

one can imagine the fumes blowing out of his ears. his eyes glisten, on the verge of tears. oops, he's really embarrassed.

you turn your face away, allowing sunday as much privacy as possible within his very private room. or rather, you are avoiding his eyes to suppress laughter. "you're coming to robin's concert, right?"

"you coming?" you gesture towards your majestic truck. it's a beautiful night for a truck ride.

sunday, your victim, is reluctant, of course. he probably still believes that you are an assassin who will run him over. "i won't die, will i?"

you huff. "i'm just a truck driver. what's the worse i could do? kidnap you?" sunday stares at you, frightened. it does not take much for him to believe in your potential for evil. "it's a joke... i'm not a criminal. or an assassin."

"just for a few minutes," he resigns. score. you open the door for sunday, who eventually sits down. you start the engine.

"welcome." sunday is in your truck. what an achievement. heh. you place your foot on the pedal.

it is silent apart from the engine's buzzing. you hand sunday an unexpired bag of chips from the compartment. he receives it, inspecting the packaging. his eyes trail to the window, studying how the sunset paints penacony with autumn's palette, but beyond it, he is watching the dots of people. you watch the melancholic sunday.

"what's on your mind?" you ask.

"nothing significant."

"well, the whole point of my trucking service is to listen to passengers." you turn the wheel. honestly, you don't know where you're going, and neither does sunday. the moon guides you tonight, two lost souls. "say anything."

sunday fiddles with the bag of chips. "...maintaining the oak family status, work, the people," he finally speaks, "it balances on my shoulders."

you hum, signalling him to continue.

"wouldn't a utopia free from suffering solve everything?"

quite a hard-hitting question for a truck driver, sunday. you nod. "of course. the only problem is that it is not real - everyone is forced into the current reality. it is harsh and cruel..." you blink. "but we are not powerless to it."

"how do you suggest we solve it?"

it is quiet for a moment before your mind wanders to every passenger you've had. they all had one thing in common. "i guess, a lot of people want a shoulder to lean on, an ear to open for them, and a voice to validate their feelings. we can do that."

all those passengers seemed to shine brighter at the end of the ride, ready to chase a dream. you may not be saving the world - you are no hero, just a truck driver - but you help tend the invisible wounds of people: the blood that drips from sharp words, the bruises that sting from deprecation, the headaches.

isn't it fine to take it slow? navigate the dark, little-by-little, and by the end, there will be an even brighter light.

"... i see." sunday watches your hands manoeuvre the truck's mechanics. the flick in your eyes that turn to him, to which he shies away from. then, he rests his eyes. as the truck drives, a silence hangs, one of quiet understanding. bit-by-bit, you gaze into sunday's heart.

it's been some time since you got run over.

adjusting to penacony was difficult at first. you had to adapt to life at the family's mansion, and the daily customs. however, the burden was eased slightly, all partly thanks to a special helper.

every morning, a cup of coffee or freshly-squeezed juice presents itself in the kitchen. every afternoon, your favourite bookshop always happens to have the book you wanted, already reserved for you. every night, your bedroom door slowly opens, quietly. your blanket, moves up to cover your torso. the mess in your room, rearranged and picked up. the back of a hand, feathers over your cheek. and nothing more happens. your little helper is easily satisfied at the sight of a peaceful you.

"does robin know about this room?" you are flipping through an ancient truck magazine.

sunday is wiping the display cabinets. his wings are flapping again, turning to you. "you didn't mention it to her, did you?"

"no, but she's going on tour soon after," you play with the corner of a page. "why don't you send her your encouragement?”

"what do you suggest?" he asks.

you look at the ceiling. it's full of robin's pictures. "a heartfelt letter? personally, i would buy her a truck but i don't think she needs that."

a small laugh escapes sunday's lips. you did not expect that. "that would be nice." he moves over to a desk, and from a drawer he pulls out a page adorned with blue flowers, and a pen.

you walk over to his desk. "you're into stationary?"

"i don't see why not," sunday says, "my work requires mostly writing, after all."

he begins from the top: 'dear sister,'. from there, sunday is a bit clumsy and awkward, asks her how the weather is and if she had breakfast. "... i've never done this before," is what he said. but gradually, the pen picks up, and the words flow. now, there was too much left unspoken when sunday reaches the final line, and had to cross out the sentence he was writing. a total of four pages, both sides filled, with more words waiting to be said - those would be left for when the siblings reunite.

"maybe we can have the people of penacony sign it too." you smile, imagining robin's elation when she reads it.

sunday nods. he scratches his signature and hands the paper to you. "here."

you take the pen, hesitant. "what's this for?"

sunday raises an eyebrow. "you're a citizen of penacony, are you not?"

... oh. were you? your throat dries. when did you become a part of penacony? weren't you... just a truck driver?

sunday watches you contemplate. a silence drawls. suddenly, he wraps his hand around yours, holding the pen still. "why are you hesitating?" nib meets page. ribbon by ribbon, the ink dances. "you belong here, don't you?"

your chest grows warm. you weren't expecting that either. full of surprises, aren't we? the same person that chained your hands and observed you, coldly answered to you, is offering his warmth. his hand is resolute, unwilling to let go. it reassure your doubts. you smile.

the pen lifts:

'from, your loving brother and, your dear friend.'

surprisingly, sunday has gotten comfortable with your presence in his forbidden robin cove. as you have with his in your magnificent truck.

yet, as much as you've driven closer, the gap is bottomless. sunday doesn't appreciate you looking at him, yet, he's allowed to drill holes in you when you're not aware?

you've asked robin, but she answered cryptically with a smile. "he used to watch over me as well, overprotective as always, but i'm sure that's his way of expressing himself when words fail him."

you reccount the passing moments.

a person more of action, lesser of words. for his people, he worked endlessly without their validation. for robin, he hid in the shadows of his much brighter devotion and support. for you, he let you slowly seep into his life, and you absorbed him into yours. a truck driver and an overqualified partner-in-crime.

quiet devotion is a tender song. without the beating of his loud commands, penacony would be left unprotected. without the instrumental scratching of his pen, there would be no light on the streets. without the percussive clicking of his shoes, the citizens would not be able to dance and celebrate.

this was sunday's song; no one else heard it, but it hums beneath the surface, invisible. those who press their ears against it can sense its vibrations. a silence that speaks louder than words or lyrics. and now, you can't mistake it, your heart beats to the silent song.

it is the night of robin's last stage in penacony. you and sunday stand on a balcony, watching over her. the final song sways along the night-caressed breeze, setting free the wings of hopeful listeners and dreamchasers.

though for a certain someone, he was using more of his eyes than ears. when you meet his golden pair, they turn away as usual.

"what's with you?" you lean against the railing.

his hands hide behind his back. "nothing significant."

"hey, i thought we were past that already. i told you i'm a truck driver who listen to their passengers."

silence hangs. a few more spoken words, "and? have you told your story?"

"me?"

his eyes find yours, but they don't turn away anymore. behind his role as penacony's figure and as a brother, it is sunday who is talking to you. in his gaze, it doesn't judge, impartial, waiting to listen, asking if it is okay for you to lend him your key.

he's come a long way into this journey. now, he awaits at your doorstep. the words catch in your throat. "i'm... just a truck driver..." you close your eyes. "a truck driver who got lost here."

sunday shakes his head. "i’m not asking about one miniscule part of your life. behind that is you who experienced a reality that built the person in front of me," his voice is shaky. an unsteady hand opens and closes, hopes to reach out for yours, but is uncertain. "i'm... asking for permission to learn all of you."

"..." robin's song is about to come to an end.

you look at the mirror. a mirror that always reflected only you, now fits one more person in the frame. that is your answer.

the you who is listening, reading, watching, all your past versions converge into this quiet meeting. usually, the mirror rejected, criticised, and distorted. but today, it finally listens. the mirror holds your reflection to be true. before you got to penacony, before you stood in the middle of a road, before you became a truck driver, you were...

"speak to me. i'm here to listen as you have for others." and keep that key to his heart, for it remains open unconditionally, always a place for you in there.

two losts souls, under the moon, found a home in each other.

a person closes the novel they were reading. they pick up their phone and start typing:

“-4.2/5 rating, absolute horror. where was robin at the end? i was waiting for her! and what’s with all the mirrors and life lessons? preeeeetty criiiinge. i'm reading a fantasy novel, not a lecture. why is mc even a truck driver anyways? also, not enough hand holding, and definitely not enough kissing. zero points!” this random nobody criticises, slamming fingers on the screen. they pause. “i wonder when the next volume will be released…”

a/n: great use of my holiday tbh, get everything out b4 i'm busy again💖i hate drawing hoyo charas they're so detailed, applause to all the hoyo artists u guys r goated fr i thought itd be cute to turn this into a series. i have some deleted ideas since i only wanted this to be a short piece (i got carried away smh). but tbh this fic ended off nicely, i dont think it needs continuing. idk. i like pistachio ice cream thanks for reading!!😲

[ssweeterthanfiction]

waiiiiit need a fic where reader finds out finnick told snow he’d take on more clients to ensure she’s safe

YOU ASK AND YOU SHALL RECIEVE!!

Innocent

HEAVY content warnings: trafficking of victors, panic attack, self hatred, suidcidal thoughts.

It was late. Finnick had just gotten home from a long trip. He was gone for nearly a month. A month away from you felt like years. A month away from your smile, a month away from your laughter, a month away from your warm touch.

Tiredly, he walks into the living room of your shared home, flicking on a lamp so he could see better.

He was exhausted.

For the past few weeks it had been nonstop. A new person every single night. At times he would think, if he should even keep up with all of it. But then he remembered why he was doing this, to keep you shielded from the truth, to keep you protected.

"If you want her to remain untouched, you take on the responsibility of the people that would've wanted her."

He passes by a mirror and sees his reflection. He sees the scratches and bruises left by his 'lovers'. He stares at them for a moment, wanting to just rip the skin off of his body instead of just covering them up and playing it off as injuries that he would get from fishing and swimming, maybe then he won't feel dirty and used.

He plops onto the couch, his entire body aching. He puts his head in his hands, thinking that he should end his misery already.

He scolds himself for this.

Finnick hated that he had such thoughts of quiting everything, he hates himself for wanting to give up, he hates feeling dirty, he hates feeling used, he hates himself for allowing Snow to make him bend at his will.

He couldn't handle it anymore. He couldn't handle being treated like a toy. He just wanted it all to end.

But if he truly ended it all, he would be leaving you. He would be leaving you to the hands of the Capitol.

And how they wanted to get their hands on you.

He felt tears well up in his eyes, he felt his hands begin to shake, he felt his heart race.

Then he heard quiet footsteps.

"Finn? Is that you?"

He turns his head and sees you in one of his shirts and your pajama bottoms.

"Yea it's me angel"

You rub your eyes and slowly walk toward the couch. "What time is it?"

"Late." Finnick says, trying to hold back his tears.

You sit down next to him, even though you're half asleep you notice that he's trembling. You move close to him and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Finnick?...Are you alright?" you say in a gentle tone.

Feeling your warm touch, Finnick breaks down.

You wrap your arms around him, "Finn? Finn what's wrong?" you say as you stroke his hair, trying your best to comfort him.

"I-I'm so sorry angel. I'm so sorry" he says through tears.

You look at him with confusion, "You're sorry for what Finn?"

"For everything. I'm so sorry, I can't do it anymore angel...I can't. I'm so tired." he says as he begins to hyperventilate.

You feel alarms going off inside your head. "Finn. Finnick please talk to me. Please." you say in a soothing tone as you cup his face in your hands.

"I can't keep doing this...I can’t keep pretending, keep smiling for them, keep letting them—" his voice breaks, his breath becomes more uneven.

"Finnick who are you talking about?"

"S-Snow- the entire Capitol-" he says, trembling as he practically sobs in your hands, shaking his head.

You press your lips to his forehead, resting yours against his when you pull away, "Finny...please talk to me,

He sniffles, "They own me. Snow… he owns me."

"Own you? What are you talking about Finny?"

He bites his lip, is he really about to tell you the whole truth?

"He… he sells me. To his friends. To anyone with enough money or influence. And if I say no, if I fight back, he threatens… everyone I care about."

You can feel a pit form in your stomach, you pull him into a tight hug, letting him cry in your arms. "Finny..." you whisper, stroking his hair, "How long has this been going on?"

"S-Since I was sixteen, and they parade me around like I was some prize, some… toy. That's why I take so many trips to the Capitol. That's why I act the way I act. I play the role because- because I thought it meant keeping everyone I cared about safe. But I can’t stop it. I can’t stop him."

"And the worst part? They love it. The Capitol loves it. They think I’m... happy. That I want this." he says, his tears wetting the fabric of your shirt. "But it’s never enough. Snow always wants more."

You tighten your embrace, letting him cry it all out.

"He threatened you, angel. He wanted to do this same thing to you. I couldn’t let that happen. He would’ve taken you, used you, broken you. And I couldn’t live with that. I couldn’t let him touch you. So I made a deal. I told him I’d take on more, do whatever he wanted, as long as he left you alone. That's why my trips have been so much longer."

Your heart shatters. You can feel tears begin to well in your eyes, you don't even know what to say. He's been dealing with so much. Alone. Just to keep you protected. "Oh..Finny" you say shakily, pressing gentle kisses to his forehead.

"I hate him. I hate myself for letting him control me. But I couldn’t stand the thought of you s-suffering . I’d do it again if it meant keeping you safe."

You pull away from him slightly, making just enough space so you can press your lips against his.

"I did it to protect you angel. I lovd you too much to- to let you go through that. I couldn't let you go through any of that, you don't deserve to."

You kiss him again, "I know Finny. I know." you say in a gentle tone, kissing his forehead. "And I love you for that. I love you so much Finny."

You pull him into a tight embrace again, letting his get all his bottled up emotions out.

"I'm sorry for keeping this from you angel."

"It's not your fault Finny.." you whisper. "None of it is. It's Snow. Not you."

For the next few hours, you cuddle with Finnick on the couch. Running your fingers through his hair til you both fall asleep in eachother's embrace.

A/N: MY SHAYLLLAAAAAAAAAAAAAA☹️💔

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

Ok hear me out…Drunk Karaoke, with any girls *ahem M16 ahem*, where their s/o gets a little too tipsy and starts singing to them when s/o’s favourite song comes on

I’m sorry I’ve been playing payday2 so much and have unironically been singing this banger while doing chores -

I will give you my all, pretty baby, I'll come whenever you call for me, baby, yeah

I will give you the best of me

The best of me, The best of me

(H:SR) Fugue and Serval's S/O getting drunk and singing Karaoke

Alternative Titles: Like a Butterfly/TONIGHT

You know, I was actually listening to a song that made me think of Fugue, and this gives me the perfect excuse. Girl deserves to laugh anyway with what she's been through. Fugue gets the all star treatment with a short fic since this particular brainworm has taken hold of me for the last few days for her specifically. Meanwhile, I'll be twisting the ask a little and having Serval be the lead singer, but you'll see the reason for that. Content: Yakuza Karaoke Jumpscares, Funny for Fugue, Feels for Serval Word Count for Fugue's Part: 1.4k

Fugue and S/O took a while to reconnect, considering all that had happened. It was not a smooth transition, and to imply otherwise would be a bold-faced lie.

But through some perseverance from both parties, things had gotten to some sense of normalcy again. Quiet moments of getting to drink tea with S/O, watching the people stroll by got her to remember in flashes of what she loves.

And more importantly, who she loves as well. Though, tonight was a bit different. Instead of tea, S/O opted to drink something a bit more alcholic.

And for some odd reason, alarms began ringing in Fugue's head, but she couldn't quite place why. Instead of intervening, she decided to let S/O drink and find out for herself why this premonition came to her.

Only to realize that even in her current state, her past self was warning her: For the love of god, do NOT LET S/O DRINK.

A warning that came too late, she feared.

(S/O) HIC! "Ah! Now THAT hits the spot!"

Fugue ears slightly recoiled at their volume, a foreboding sense of deja vu washing over her.

(Fugue) "I-I see...How often did we go drinking together, out of curiousity?"

S/O turned to face their lover, slightly off balance and red in the face as they frowned, struggling to remember.

(S/O) "Hmmmmm....Iunno. We just drank some tea and stuff. You never let me drink, usually."

(Fugue) I think I'm beginning to remember why.

Fugue was only lost in her thoughts for a moment longer before S/O smiled at her, causing to become slightly flustered under their attention.

(Fugue) "S/O?"

(S/O) "You're so beautiful..."

The way they had said it sounded like it took every fiber of their being to say it correctly, a fact that made Fugue giggle, her own affection barely being contained by her smile.

(Fugue) "Always the charmer, I see.~"

Fugue finishes the rest of her tea before moving over to help S/O up, effortlessly dragging them to stand as one arm was looped around her neck.

...Strange. She can't help but feel like this used to be harder to do. Oh well, this is probably the one of the few things she can't complain that's different now.

Before she can even take a single step, she immediately gets startled by S/O who suddenly stands upright on their own.

(S/O) "I WANT TO SING WITH YOU!"

(Fugue) "...W-Wha-?"

They grab her shoulders gently, yet firm enough that causes her to freeze in place as her tail and ears shoot up in surprise.

(S/O) hic! "We should sing the night away with some music!"

(Fugue) "Karaoke? Well, I suppose there are a few bars here that host-"

(S/O) "GREAT, LET'S GO!"

(Fugue) "W-WAH?!"

Getting dragged along to one of the nearby bars in the Loufou, S/O rented a room to themselves, with S/O excitedly sitting down and taking a peek through the song list.

Fugue meanwhile felt like she was suddenly in over her head. She knew that she had a nice voice, but enough to sing?

Regardless of what kind of singing voice she possessed, S/O was not going to let her dwell on it.

(S/O) "Okay, you can take the lead and I'll be your backup vocals!"

(Fugue) "You want me to be the lead singer? I think you should-"

(S/O) "NAH!"

S/O flopped their head onto her lap, making her jump slightly.

(S/O) "I'm...a little gone right now...Besides, this song I wanna hear your voice, it's my favorite!"

Fugue took the song list from S/O and examined the title.

(Fugue) "Like a Butterfly?"

She tried scrounging whatever scrap of memory was in her head, and nothing came up, though the name didn't exactly stir anything either. As if sensing her thoughts, S/O grabbed the list back and put it on the Karaoke Machine.

(S/O) "I...didn't really tell you about this song. It's a bit of a guilty pleasure, to be honest!"

That at least made her feel a little better, fearing that she was forgetting yet another important memory, and instead just something-

...Wait, why was S/O embarrassed to show this to her?

(S/O) "I always sing the rap parts by myself, but now I have you to sing the lady's part!"

Drunk rapping? Oh boy.

(Fugue) "Well...I'll give it my best shot...!"

(S/O) "Great, we have all night!"

Well, at least this night would be something to remember, for better or worse.

[Song: Like a Butterfly]

Fugue swayed from side to side as the beat of the song kicked in, meanwhile S/O was bobbing their head violently, grabbing their microphone and shouting with their entire heart as their part came first.

(S/O) "BE REBORN! CLIMB OUT OF HELL, BORN AGAIN! LET'S FLY HIGH LIKE A BUTTERFLY!"

Fugue smiled and grabbed her own microphone, singing timidly in comparison to S/O's manic energy.

(Fugue) "It's drowning in its greed, the wicked trap was sprung, Tangled in the threads of its deeds!"

From the lyrics alone, Fugue could tell that she would like this song as well.

(S/O) "TANGLED IN ITS CRIMES!"

Fugue tapped her foot as the song got faster, being infected by S/O's energy, her eyes on them the entire time as both of them smiled, her voice growing louder as she sang her next part.

(Fugue) "Like fate scoops up a fish, struggling in a net Its brittle wings are torn by the tears as it trembles in cold sweat!" (S/O) "YOU TORE YOUR WINGS NOW CRY!"

S/O was clapping to the rhythm, getting Fugue more into the feel and just having fun at this point, neither of them particularly caring if they were great. While Fugue's voice was bewitching, S/O's voice came crashing like a fingernail to chalkboard.

(Fugue) "The spider comes, a thirst in its eyes-" (S/O) "A BUTTERFLY WITH NO WINGS IS A MOTH IN THE FLAME! JUST A RAT ON THE FLOOR WITH ANOTHER NAME!"

Subconsciously, Fugue could tell why S/O sang this alone as the rapping was ridiculous, but she could not deny that this was really fun to sing along to with another person, lover or otherwise.

(Fugue) "The venomous fangs sink into the soul-" (S/O) "THIS WORLD IS DEAD, NO LIGHT LEFT TO FIND! IT'S TOO LATE-"

Fugue joined S/O in standing up, both of them swaying to the beat, though S/O's was far more aggressive as they sang their parts like they were rapping on stage, something that made her almost break down laughing.

(Fugue) "Too late now, to mourn it's punctured wings, to take to the sky!" (S/O) "TAKE TO THE SKY!"

With any former hesitation gone, Fugue smiled as she just enjoyed the rest of the song with her lover enthusiastically cheering her on by remaining on backup vocals.

If only it could be, just one more time (TO THE BITTER END IN OVERDRIVE!) Engrave the beat, flap your wings 'til you feel you are complete (FLY, HIGH!) Oh you tragic butterfly Despairing, craving it, that singular last ray of light still shining down on bitter wings (BE REBORN, CLIMB OUT OF HELL BORN AGAIN! LET'S FLY HIGH LIKE A BUTTERFLY! YOU'VE DREAMED LONG OF THIS DAY, DREAM AGAIN!) So fly high again (AND FLY HIGH LIKE A BUTTERFLY!)

Like a butterfly (TO THE BITTER END OVERDRIVE,BURNING OUT IN AN ENDLESS DRIVE!) Soaring in the sky like a butterfly (TO THE BITTER END OVERDRIVE, BURNING OUT IN AN ENDLESS DRIVE- OH YEAAAAAAAAAH!)

Fugue couldn't hold back her laughter anymore, doubly so when S/O finished off the song.

(S/O) "FLY LIKE A BEAUTIFUL BUTTERFLY, FLY LIKE A BEAUTIFUL BUTTERFLY!"

Finally catching her breath, Fugue sat back down, still laughing as S/O cheered, flopping down next to her and struggling to catch theirs.

(S/O) "Like the song?"

(Fugue) "Hm, not my usual style admittedly but...I do resonate with the lyrics."

(S/O) "Hm...? Why's that?"

...Oh right, they were still drunk. As if their "singing" wasn't reminder enough. But, honestly just something as simple as singing a dumb song was enough to lighten her spirit, and though it didn't call any particular memory to mind, it was something like this that reminded why 'Tingyun' fell in love with S/O in the first place.

Though, she figured she'd better take the song's advice and start focusing on new memories, rather than any old one for now.

(Fugue) "Well, what other songs do you have for us?"

Seeing their eyes glimmer at that, S/O began rushing through the song list for another one, all the while Fugue's smile grew even bigger.

(S/O) "SERVAAAAAAL!"

Serval was nearly glomped by S/O, causing her to laugh and set her drink far away from the edge of the table.

(Serval) "Oof, hey! Think ya had enough?"

From their breath and flushed face, that answer was most definitely a-

(S/O) "Heh, nope!"

S/O rested their head on her shoulder, almost threatening to yank her off.

(S/O) "I want to sing a song with you!"

(Serval) "Hm, is that right?"

After a few hiccups and almost losing their balance, they nodded aggressively.

As funny as it would be to have their drunk ass sing some rock and roll...She had a different idea in mind.

(Serval) "I'll cut you a better deal, you get to hear a song I've been working on by myself! An exclusive sneak peek!"

S/O's eyes glowed and they stumbled onto a nearby chair.

(S/O) "Y-Yeah! I wanna hear it!"

Though Serval was smiling, there was a hint of sadness in it.

That hint being big enough for S/O to catch onto it, even when alcohol was scrambling their senses.

(S/O) "...Babe, something wrong?"

Serval laughed at the petname and shook her head, uncharacteristically becoming shy as her finger tapped the table.

(Serval) "Not really just...This song isn't my usual kinda style, ya know? Don't wanna bore you to death with it."

(S/O) "Nothing you could share to me could ever be boring! I...just might pass out from the alcohol is all."

Serval rolled her eyes.

(Serval) "Gee, that makes me feel better."

(S/O) "Just shut up and grab your guitar already!"

Serval took a deep breath and grabbed her guitar and hooked up her phone to play the other instrumental parts she had done herself, looking at S/O, and then to the ceiling and closing her eyes.

(Serval) "I've kept this one hidden for a while, thought it might be a bit too personal but...Eh, what the heck. This one goes out to...a friend now gone."

S/O's smile grew more somber at that, having an inkling of who she was talking about.

[Song: Tonight -restart from this night-]

Serval's pick began strumming along the strings of her guitar, as she began singing, her tone growing much more heartfelt.

(Serval) "Back in the day, I thought I was strong, that I was the one who could right every wrong, Years roll on by, time does what it does, so hard to hold on to the people we love."

Serval's foot was tapping in rhythm, her eyes catching a glance at S/O, their hand doing the same. Smiling softly at that, she continued her song.

(Serval) "I've lost count of the days, And though I never stop thinking of you, We have gone our separate ways-"

Serval's mind rushed back with memories, where S/O was sitting, Cocolia was there, hanging off every word she was singing with a bright smile.

And that made Serval forget entirely about her mini stage-fright, singing as if there was no audience at all and simply speaking from the heart now.

So, tonight, let's start again From this night, rewrite the way it ends You and I would laugh And sing all night like we'd always meant

Part of her wondered if the Cocolia she knew would poke fun at her, thinking this song was a bit too sappy for what Serval usually did.

Would this song have even moved the Supreme Guardian at all?

Maybe. Serval would never know.

So, tonight, you'll find me there The nights we shared in places drinks would flow And the sun never rose And life meant living the life we chose

If I could relive the moment we drifted apart I'd right every wrong for you Whatever life asks from me, I will do Just to see you smile and waste a night with you

Serval closed out the song with a final strum, letting the instrumentals finish it out.

After opening her eyes again, she saw S/O with tears welling in their eyes, rubbing them aggressively with their sleeves.

The sight got her to laugh a little, despite the fact a part of her felt like tearing up as well.

(S/O) "That...song is beautiful! Why don't you play that?!"

(Serval) "Hah...maybe someday, but like I said, I'm still working out some little tidbits here and there on it."

(S/O) "Then...Then I can sing it instead!"

That had Serval suddenly burst into laughter, nearly dropping her guitar.

(Serval) "Maybe when I can't smell the drink you had all the way from here, I'll consider it!"

Serval shook her head and sat next to S/O, wiping away the tear on their cheek with her thumb.

(Serval) "How 'bout a different song huh? I can play it for ya, and you can scream like an idiot!"

(S/O) "Hey!"

Smiling at their pout, S/O was doing a good job of lifting her spirits already. Thanks to them, and many others, she wouldn't stay in the past.

...But, she'd be lying if she said she wouldn't want her best friend back.

Maybe for S/O, and the Cocolia she knew, she'd play that song for a real audience someday.

...But not tonight.

[genderlessjacky]

yayy finally im finally done!!! I hope we are the same timezone and I didn't accidentally submit this late 😭

Holmes!! The sharpshooting Rodger with a littleee but of trust issues and I adore him . He is the kind of dad to have Pavlov's dogs himself to say "language" whenever anyone is swearing an probably owns a swear jar. But don't worry, he loves both his children equally. He may not be able to keep up with a few of the smarter Rodgers in terms of intellect but he can hold his own in a mission decently well and he's more streetsmart anyways (Holmes says in an attempt to comfort himself)

(also , Sherlock Holmes , Holmes , get it??? I'm so funny I know)

Big brother of the year award goes too... SOMEONE ELSE because it's certainly not Shrimpo "DONT KICK IN YOUR 8 YEAR OLD BABY SISTERS TEETH" Rodger . He pretends to not care and at times he really doesn't. It's giving Dipper pines meets bakugo (which I'm not sure if that's accurate because I have only seen like , 2 seasons of MHA) meets knuckles and with a sprinkle of abandonment issues . It took him a decently long time to warm up to his adoptive family but it was all worth it (sort of)

(when I tell you I really did try my best to come up with an Augmented Ability for him 😭 I hope this isn't too OP...)

Edit : nvm , Shrimpo uses 80% of his energy instead and that it effects a whole area of twisteds around him , like it effects any twisteds who hear it even if he direct it at them , and that it can be mixed , like a twisted brightney and Gigi can run away while the rest start CHASING him

The baby of the family!! The one who Shrimpo taught how to swear!! Toodles!! She occasionally gets an existential crisis because of her ability but it's finee. She warmed up the fastest to people, this social little scumbag is the sole reason why her brother is NOT fully social inept

Edit: SO sorry that I'm changing my mind this much but I'd like to add like , she can just duplicate only parts of herself for way less energy, like she can duplicate just an arm as a emergency weapon for 7% energy and only her head to use as a projectile weapon for 9% energy ectect and ofc they will still hurt but yes she can duplicate multiple

(Another idea of an Augmented Ability I have to her is basically beginners luck in a larger scale , she can boost a random 'stat' of her fellow toons in a certain radius by 20% and it reduces her own energy by 20% but I went for this one instead but if you think the duplicate thing is too overpowered, feel free to use this :))

more beneath the cut <3 (pls read I spent SO much time on these doodles)

An idea I have for their background:

If it matches the lore , I'd say they joined an operation that wasnt gardenview, a different operation that was far more weaker and far away from said Gardenview , Holmes and Toodles and a couple of others were the sole survivors of the weaker operation after they got overwhelmed by a large Wave of twisteds and Shrimpo got kicked out of his own survivors group for being too aggressive and nearly leading them to their own death . After Toodles and Holmes wandered for about 3 months they met Shrimpo and the journey begins there . They reach Gardenview in about, I'd say two - three and a half years

Please ignore that fact that it's disgustingly obvious that I have practically never done digital art before 😞🙏

Pov: a single father of two rediscovers what coffee is (don't read the text too closely 😞, I mostly copy pasted a theory about ichor that I really liked and added a bit of details myself , I know I'm lazy I'm sorry)(also ignore that Cosmo said E-1, I rrly want him and his kids to be in D-1 🙏)

I have a mini comic I'm in the middle of drawing of how Shrimpo and Toots would work together in an actual mission and I'll reblog said comic on this post after I finish it and hope and pray you actually see it 😢

Fun facts about them (I'll probably add more when it's not , midnight)

In terms of fighting, I'd say Shrimpo is definitely melee and short ranged, if I decide to give him weapons it will definitely be very Vi from arcane coded

Rodger is defo long ranged sharp shooter, a sniper sort of guy , if he had to fight up close he could hold his own but he would mostly rely on his robot arm

Toodles is more agile think, very sonic or Spiderman esk , jumping around and dodging/ luring the twisteds

Rodger also has phantom pain sometimes and doesn't really know what it is (yet) so sometimes his arms just starts hurting a lot and he's like "oh, I guess that happens now" and doesn't tell anyone

Rodger got lost his arm during the incident where his old operation got destroyed

Toodles and Shrimpo have matching bite marks from eachother, it's how they differentiate eachother from a crowd

They are very "Dad said I can come!!" "YOU ARE NOT COMING ON MY DATE-" coded

honestly, I can Shrimpo tagging along with toodles and her new friends in Gardenview until he finds his own group

Rodger used to spend a lot his time researching ichor obsessively because he lost a lot of loved ones during the fall of his old operation (like a lot of the Rodgers and probably also A1 Rodger) but slowed down a LOT a while after he took in Shrimpo

Rodger didnt know how to take care of two kids at first , it wasnt until Shrimpo almost died because of his own recklessness that he decided "hey I already lost a lot of people, I need to take care of the ones I have" and stepped up , he isn't perfect but he tries

I'd like to think Rodger gets a lot of "you took in...a SHRIMPO????" From the group of people he hangs out with

Shrimpo is a decent mechanic, like not enough that he can build a robot from scratch metal but enough that he can build a working metal arm for Holmes out of broken twisted robot parts

Also their 'last name' is Rodger , like Toodles Rodger and Shrimpo Rodger , but he only uses when they are in REAL trouble like "SHRIMPO RODGER GO TO YOUR ROOM"

Also if it matches the lore , I also like to think , to save up energy and ichor , the people running Gardenview saw them come in , clinging onto eachother and went "huh... they seem close" and put Toodles and Shrimpo in the same room with a bunkbed to preserve energy , screaming matches insue

(and if you're reading this like :why is she so not normal ab them?? Well it's because I have a little brother who acts a lot like how I think toodles will act but a lot more annoying and I think I'm just projecting ngl)

Small little Event!

Hey hey, hope you’re all having a great holiday.

This little event will be running until 1.6.2025.

Im sure some of you have noticed team D and E have never been mentioned- and that’s because I’ve been waiting to host this event!

I’m choosing 11- yes 11 toons that YOU GUYS MAKE to add to Operation Ichor!

Of course, other toon submissions will show up as background characters within the comic.

Q1: How does the character sheet look?

Something like this, it being colored is optional. But I mainly just need design, personality, and ability on your sheet. Keep in mind you’re mostly choosing from the 20 in game characters (No, spoiler characters aren’t accepted, only ones in game!) and adding accessories on them.

You can make a whole team if you want too, just please keep it as one reblog if you can.

Q2: Are OC Toons allowed?

Yes, but please keep in mind they have a lower chance of being chosen just because dealing with different abilities and designs gets complicated (as if the 20 toons Dandy’s world has isn’t already enough)

Here’s the sheet for those who want to join.

Please use (#opich event) and/or just reblog this post with your submission

Disclaimer:

Any toon submitted will STILL BELONG TO THE OWNER, I have no intentions of stealing your amazing creations.

Do note; with the grim nature of this story, toons die a lot and yours might as well, if you don’t want that to happen- don’t submit.

And don’t be discouraged by your art, I love all your works and you’re all super talented :).

[creamecafe]

How Squid Game Season 1 Characters would react to Season 2 Characters

Kang Sae Byeok

Thanos:

Hates him no questions asked

Player 196:

Hated her at first, but seeing you both dislike Thanos, she somewhat tolerates her behavior.

Lee Myung-Gi:

Also doesn't like him but tolerates him a bit

Kang Dae-Ho:

Tolerates him and likes being in his company.

Rolls his eyes when he brags about being in the Marines.

Gyeong-seok:

Doesn't talk to him much or pay attention to him

Has a soft spot/compassion hearing about his sick daughter

Hyun Ju:

Friends with her immediately

Defends her if anyone tries to misgender her

Yong-Sik

Wonders why a son and mom would ever join this game?

Geum-Ja:

Has a soft spot for her

Jung-Bae:

Doesn't know how he's always optimistic

Jun-Hee:

Would ask about the baby

Curses Myung Gi

Seon-Nyeo:

Finds her amusing and funny

Min-Su:

Soft spot for him

Nam-Gyu:

Hates him but not as much with Thanos

Se-Mi:

Best friends with her immediately right on the spot.

Cho Sang Woo

Thanos:

Wants nothing to do with him and thinks he's an absolute waste of time

Probably would team up with him at some point seeing how determined he is to betray others

Player 196:

Wants nothing to do with her either

Like literally nothing

Lee Myung-Gi:

Finds his YouTube channel pathetic

Kang Dae Ho:

Thinks that his marine story is bs

Gyeong-seok:

Nothing for him really

Hyun Ju:

Doesn't really care but wonders why she transitioned

Yong-Sik

Wonders why a son and mom would be in this game as Sae Byeok did

Geum-Ja:

Feels bad for her a bit as he believes she won't last long

Doesn't really care about her that much but also leaves her be

Jung-Bae:

Wonders why he's so happy like Ali

Jun-Hee:

Pretends to not care but has a soft spot because she's pregnant

Min-Su:

Doesn't care about him that much

Se-Mi:

Thinks she's a weird like Saw Byeok

Ali Abdul

Thanos:

Would ask Thanos why he dyed his hair purple and why he has tattoos

Confused on why his name is Thanos

Player 196:

Would think she's spoiled

They probably would be good friends

Lee Myung-Gi:

Probably be annoyed at him

Would feel bad that he gets bullied by Thanos

Kang Dae Ho

Those two would be good friends you can't tell me otherwise

Gyeong-seok:

Comfort him about his daughter

Would be his friend

Hyun Ju:

Becomes curious of her background

Yong-Sik:

Would be his friend

Be annoyed at him of how he treats his mom sometiems

Geum-Ja:

Would respect her so much

Excited about the things that she says she'll cook when they escape the game (WHICH THEY DID GUYS)

Jung-Bae:

Become his best friend and talk a lot

Jun-Hee:

Tell her about his baby son and comfort her

Always asking if she's okay

Would give her extra food

Be upset at Myung-Gi for telling her to get rid of the baby

Min-Su:

Same as Jung-Bae

Se-Mi:

Would compliment her lip piercing

Ji-Yeong

Thanos:

Thinks he's weird and a bit pathetic

Player 196:

Finds her amusing

Lee Myung-Gi:

Intrigued by how many people are mad at him about the crypto scam

Kang Dae Ho:

Thinks he's interesting and likes being around him

Gyeong-seok:

Would talk with him if she's bored

Asks about his daughter

Hyun Ju:

Loves her a lot

Would talk nonsense with her

Yong-Sik

Nothing much for him sorry

Geum-Ja:

Respects her

Smiles at the amount of food she says she'll cook when they get out (If I see a single comment that it's not true, I'm blocking you)

Jung-Bae:

Admires how smiling he is

Jun-Hee:

Asks if its a boy or girl

Min-Su:

Asks why he's so quiet even though she's the same

Se-Mi:

Friends immediately

Now Hyun Ju, Jun-Hee and her girlfriend are having Mojitos on Jeju island

Navigation | Main Masterlist | Squid Game Masterlist | Join my taglist!

[cakepoppresent]

Don't Worry About A Thing

Winterfest is gonna be so much fun!

Transcript under the cut~

[Luna]: I’m sorry! I was dealing with a lot. You won’t stay mad at me right?

[Daisuke]: It’s been a while Luna. I don’t like when you don’t answer my calls or texts

[Daisuke]: I can never stay mad at you

[Daisuke]: But I did see what has been said about you and your family online. I'm upset you had to deal with that alone

[Luna]: Don’t be! You’re a busy man how can I bother you with something so silly

[Daisuke]: That’s not the point sweetheart and Im never to busy when it comes to you

[Luna]: Speaking of being busy. It was so surprising when my lawyers finally got around to sending out cease and desist letters when they noticed the articles had been removed and I was getting a slew of apologies. Even Chantel Williams herself

[Daisuke]: I think they probably realized that it would be better for everyone involved if they admitted their mistakes and reflected on them. Yes?

[Luna]: You are wonderful has anyone ever told you that?

[Daisuke]: They do but I like hearing it from you. You should praise me more

[Luna]: Haha that's enough praise from me

[Luna]: What question?

[Daisuke]: You never answered my question from before.

[Daisuke]: I want you to spend Winterfest and New Years with me in Mt. Korembi and meet my family

[Luna]: oh...right I remember that

[Daisuke]: Are you not willing?

[Daisuke]: I understand. If you are concerned about his well-being I would love to also have him spend the holidays with us

[Luna]: I am willing! It’s just...I finally made up with Malcolm and we finally agreed to talk to Andre together. I feel like the fallout between the two of them will be intense and I don’t know if I can leave them like that

[Luna]: Really?

[Daisuke]: Of course. It’s clear he means a lot to you and I would like to extend the invitation personally.

[Luna]: Oh my...I don’t know how he will take that. He’s very sensitive

[Luna]: You really mean that?

[Daisuke]: I assure you I dealt with my fair share of prickly and sensitive sims. Speaking with your brother won't be an issue

[Daisuke]: Of course. It's important to me and it's a good chance to finally meet your brother

[Luna]: Then yes! I’d love to! This is going to be so much fun!

[Daisuke]: Yes. It will be. Don’t worry about Malcolm. I’ll arrange everything

[Luna]: What a man you are! You’re amazing!

[Daisuke]: More praise

[Luna]: You get all the praise!!

[Daisuke]: I’d do anything for you Luna. Don’t ever forget that

[Luna]: I mean it Daisuke. You have no idea how much this means to me, my brother is very important to me. These past few weeks have been hard and I think this will be a good break for him

[Luna]: I won’t

[Daisuke]: Good. Now come here

[Daisuke]: Don’t worry about a single thing

[Luna]: Okay~

[luxcuriousao3]

Dove (A Zombie!Ghost Story) Chapter Eleven

Summary: “You want me to read to you?” She asked after a moment of hesitation, reluctantly accepting the book. Simon nodded, embarrassed but refusing to show it. What he really wanted was for her to teach him to read again, but that was too much to ask for. So he’d settle for the sweet sound of her voice telling him stories. Word Count: 2413 Warnings: vaguely erotic candy sharing, mentions of past abuse, mostly just fluff tbh (this story has a surprising amount of fluff for being set in a literal zombie apocalypse) Notes: Sorry about not updating last week--I was on vacation and had forgotten my laptop. I have also decided I will be posting on Sundays from now on. Hopefully still once a week, but I'm running out of pre-written chapters, and with the semester starting again soon, I am not sure how much time I will have for writing. I've also been struggling a bit with motivation. All dividers were made by @/sweetmelodygraphics (original post here). The zombie divider indicates the text below is Ghost's POV, the dove divider inidcates Lelia's POV. The combined dove and zombie divider represents a time skip but not a POV change. I still have no beta for this fic so all SPAG and consistency errors are my own, feel free to point them out. Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

Also, the poems referenced in this chapter are, in order of appearance: i am at the bottom by Innokenty Annensky (translation by R.H. Morrison), Invictus by William Ernest Henry, and i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart) by E.E. Cummings. AO3, Masterlist

When the sun began to cast its weak winter light into the bedroom, Ghost carefully untangled himself from his dove, smoothing a hand over her hair before leaving to check the kitchen. He found a single box of stale cereal, already open and mostly empty. It wasn’t enough. He cast a glance outside, at the knee high snow drifts. There was no way she could go out to search for supplies. He would have to leave her behind and search himself. He was far from pleased with that, but especially since he hadn't yet had the chance to clear the village, but he didn’t have much of a choice. At least she would be safer in the house than she was the tree.

Taking advantage of the mixing bowls and pots left behind, Ghost collected freshly fallen snow in every single one he could find, then brought them back inside to melt. That was the one good thing about the snow. For as long as it was clean, Lelia could drink it.

“Simon?”

He heard his dove calling him from the bedroom, and he grunted loudly to let her know he was still here. A second later, little footsteps padded into the kitchen to join him. Her long hair was mussed from sleep, and a thick quilt was wrapped around her shoulders like a cape, dwarfing her small frame. He wondered if she’d look just as tiny wearing nothing but his shirt. Innocent and soft with sleep, just begging to be lifted up onto the table so he could spread her legs and ravish her…

Ghost looked away quickly. He couldn’t think like that. Especially not after what she’d confided in him last night.

Last night, when he had cradled her close, and she'd let him touch her face with the same reverence she did his whenever she brushed his teeth. When he’d leaned their foreheads together, her hot breath misting over his face. Her pink, pouty lips had been so close, close enough to touch his own… if he’d had any.

“Good morning,” his dove yawned as she approached, wrapping her arms around him in a hug. Simon stiffened, before automatically hugging her back. He couldn’t kiss her, couldn’t make love to her, but he could treasure every touch she gave him, just like he’d promised himself he would last night.

He slowly, painstakingly uttered a garbled ‘Good morning, Dove,’ back. It sounded more like an animal dying, but Lelia beamed up at him anyway, cheeks pink.

“I bet if we found a way to fix your jaw, you’d be able to speak clearly,” she said, reaching up to carefully hold his hanging jaw in place. The broken bones grinded against each other, and his teeth clacked together loudly. His dove rubbed her fingers against his skin soothingly, even though she knew by now that he didn't feel pain. She sighed. “But I have no idea how we’d go about doing that.”

He covered her hand with his, squeezing it gently before pulling it away from his face. His jaw flopped open grotesquely, but Lelia didn't flinch. It warmed something inside him.

Keeping a hold of her hand, he led her over to the table, which was loaded up with bowls, pots, and even mugs full of half melted snow. Her eyes brightened, and he didn't have to tell her what they were for. She grabbed the closest mug and downed its slushy contents, smacking her lips and shivering afterwards. Ghost chuckled, and she grinned cheekily at him. Christ, he swore that one of these days, her smile would restart his heart.

Ghost returned to his dove after several hours spent combing the village for supplies. He’d not gone far, so he’d only managed to clear a small part of it, but he was unwilling to leave her alone for any longer than he had to.

He knocked on the locked door three times, paused, and then twice more. After a moment, Lelia opened it, still wrapped in her blanket, and he stepped inside, stomping on the floor to shake the snow from his boots.

“Did you find anything?” She asked, and Ghost would have grinned if he could. He swung the rucksack off his shoulder and reached inside, pulling out a candy bar and presenting it to her. Her face lit up, eyes bright, and she threw herself at him in a hug. He chuckled and hugged her back for a few seconds before gently pushing her away, not wanting to get her wet.

He hadn’t found much else—just a couple cans of food, and a new torch—but he tried not to let his worry show, not wanting to ruin the small moment of happiness for her. She’d already ripped open the silvery wrapper, and she took a big bite, moaning in delight at the taste. Ghost wrangled his depraved thoughts, morbidly glad that his cock couldn't twitch and give him away.

Lelia savored the bite of chocolate, caramel, and peanuts for a long moment, eyes closed and expression one of bliss. Simon savored her in turn, the upward tilt of her lips, the chocolate smeared on her chin, and the sticky, smacking noises of her chewing. Her joy was sweeter to him than any candy could ever hope to be.

Finally, Lelia swallowed, opening her eyes again as she broke off a small piece, holding it up to his mouth.

“I know human food doesn’t… fuel you,” she started, and he tried not to laugh again at the careful way she phrased it. “But does it still taste good, at least?”

Ghost eyed the piece of candy skeptically. He couldn’t recall ever trying regular food after turning. He didn’t think he’d ever even thought of it—the craving for flesh was far too strong.

He couldn’t smell the sugary sweetness of the candy bar, but it did look appealing. Or perhaps it was his dove’s chocolate covered fingers that had him beginning to drool…

Before he could turn away, she popped the piece of candy into his mouth, holding it there. She set the rest of the bar down on the table and reached up with her other hand, gently grabbing his broken jaw and beginning to move it up and down, helping him chew. Simon stared at her, his ruined brain lagging like a shitty computer—even as his tongue greedily lapped at her skin, ignoring the candy entirely. Lelia blushed, and that sweet, musky scent of her arousal soon filled the air.

“Do you like it?” She asked, her voice slightly breathy. Simon nodded, practically in a trance, and quickly swallowed the candy. He reached up to hold onto her wrist, though, keeping her fingers in his mouth and he methodically licked each digit clean. She gasped quietly, but didn’t pull away, big doe eyes looking straight into his own.

He stopped himself before he began to slobber all over her palm like a dog—or worse, try to take a bite. Lelia shivered when the cold air hit her spit-soaked skin, and he grabbed a rag from the kitchen sink, beginning to clean it for her. The two of them stood in slightly awkward silence, until she picked up the candy bar and took another—much smaller—bite, and hummed happily.

“Thank you, Simon,” she said, voice earnest and grateful. “I needed this. I needed something good.”

The corner of her lips quirked up in a smile again.

“I’ll have to figure out a way to repay you,” she said, voice soft and teasing. “What would you like? A filet mignon? Baked Alaska?”

“A blowie?” Johnny's voice echoed in his head, whiny in a playful way. It sounded less like an interjection this time, and more like a memory. “C’mon, Si, ye owe me fer tha’ bit o’ friendly fire! Nearly took me bollocks off!”

Ghost tried to cling onto the strange memory, to examine it further, but it slipped away like water through a sieve. He focused back on the present, tilting his head to the side thoughtfully before nodding at his dove. There was something that he’d been wanting to ask her…

He stepped closer, reaching into the breast pocket of her leather jacket and pulling out a small book. The cover was red and made of worn leather, with faded, gilded letters embossed on the front. She sucked in a startled breath. Clearly she hadn’t realized he’d known about the book she always carried around, never taking it out in front of him. He felt a bit bad, guessing it was supposed to be a secret—but she’d offered. He opened it to a random page and held it out to her, unable to meet her eyes.

“You want me to read to you?” She asked after a moment of hesitation, reluctantly accepting the book. Simon nodded, embarrassed but refusing to show it. What he really wanted was for her to teach him to read again, but that was too much to ask for. So he’d settle for the sweet sound of her voice telling him stories.

“Alright…” she trailed off nervously. She took his hand and began to pull him over to the couch. She was stalling, that much was clear. “Let's get comfortable, first.”

He let her sit him down, let her take his wet boots off—resolutely ignoring the dirty thoughts that stirred at seeing her on her knees in front of him—let her fluff up the pillows and arrange them just right before curling up on the opposite end of the couch, book in her lap. He sat patiently as she stared down at it for a long moment, working up her courage. And when she finally opened it again, he leaned forward, full of anticipation as she flipped through the pages.

“Most of this book is in Russian,” she admitted. He blinked in surprise, and she huffed a little laugh. “It’s my first language. My parents were displeased by that. I was their own fault for letting my governess raise me all by herself, though.”

She shook her head, stopping at a page a third of the way into the book.

“My first word was яблоня. The Russian word for apple,” she told him, a small, sad smile on her face. “It’s what I named my teddy bear. I kept that bear until Andrew threw it away on our we— I mean… well. Until Andrew threw it away.”

On our wedding night.

The missing words were easy enough to fill in. Simon remembered the time she’d almost spoken about a husband. He remembered how disgruntled he’d been by the thought that she was married. How jealous. Now, he only felt a simmering rage in his chest, like a false heartbeat. If he ever laid eyes on Lelia’s husband, he’d tear him apart.

“Anyway,” she whispered, delicately learning her throat and quickly moving on, clearly not wanting to be questioned about her slip. “I’ve translated some of them, or at least my favorite stanzas. I’ll read you one of those.”

Poems? He thought curiously, eyes on her as he listened with rapt attention. Of course she liked poetry. Pretty words with hidden depths. Just like her.

Then, she began to read.

“I am at the bottom; I am a sorrowful

Fragment; above me the water is shimmering

Green. Out of the heavy glass darkness

There are no roads for anyone to anywhere…”

“I didn't always like that one,” she admitted into the silence that followed. Simon was still digesting the poem, his ears ringing a little bit. The words had touched something deep inside him, whispering of memories just out of reach. “But that was because I didn’t understand it, then.”

He grunted, moving a little closer to her and tapping the book.

“Another?” She asked, surprised. He nodded, and she blushed, looking unsure. “I don't know… I don’t want to bore you…”

Ghost gave her an unimpressed look and just tapped the book again, a little harder this time.

“Fine, fine,” she huffed, but he could see the slight amusement in her eyes. She flipped through the book for a moment before stopping, dragging her fingertip down the page. She was quiet for a moment, eyes flickering over the lines, before speaking again. “This one… this one is one of my favorites. It’s not a translation. Just an English classic.”

“Out of the night that covers me,

Black as the pit from pole to pole,

I thank whatever gods may be

For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance

I have not winced nor cried aloud.

Under the bludgeonings of chance

My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears

Looms but the Horror of the shade,

And yet the menace of the years

Finds and shall find me unafraid.”

There were tears in his dove’s eyes by the time she finished, and Simon reached out to wipe away one that slipped down her cheek. She let out a little embarrassed laugh, ducking her head and scrubbing at her face.

“Sorry,” she whispered, closing the book. “That one always makes me emotional.”

He could guess why. He only knew an inkling of what she had been through, but that was enough. That she was still standing at all was proof of how strong she was, in his opinion. Bloody but unbowed indeed.

Simon managed to convince her to keep going, and at some point over the last hour, his head had ended up in her lap as he laid down across the couch. She carded her fingers through his hair as she read aloud, choosing her favorites—but avoiding any that she herself had written. They were far too embarrassing.

Had she not known better, she would have thought Simon was asleep. His eyes were closed, a deep, content rumbling echoing from his chest. She had to stop herself from giggling when she realized how much he resembled a cat, like that.

“And this is the secret that’s keeping the stars apart,” Lelia recited the last two lines of what had been her favorite love poem for most of her life. She wasn’t even looking at the book anymore, her soft gaze focused on Simon, eyes tracing the features of his mask. She wished he would let her see under it. She wouldn’t flinch away from whatever she found—nothing could make her see him as anything other than beautiful, not anymore. “I carry your heart; I carry it in my heart.”

[ghouljams]

Ok, just wanna say that I love your Hephaetus!Nikto.

Just a few things I’d like to say about Aphrodite. Love the way you have them written, I am in no way trying to make you change your interpretation of them.

She is one of the oldest gods along side Poseidon. Their lore dates back way before Ancient Greece and yet Aphrodite still predates him. Aphrodite is not just a soft thing. She started the Trojan war dammit. And she’s been associated with War as well, and not just in the sense that she has a relationship with Ares but of herself (then again haven’t done much research on this part so I could be wrong).

And Aphrodite is of the sea. The sea is no tame thing. It is wild. She is the Goddess of love and beauty and I’m getting a little pissed at Nikto for thinking she wouldn’t find him beautiful when it is her literal job to see the beauty in everything. Like come on dudeeee!!!!

I think the way you wrote him also pairs kinda well with the way you have the other Olympians view Aphrodite!Reader. I’d wonder if Aphrodite!Reader will ever snap on them and show them what it means to be the goddess of love and beauty.

Also fun fact, the ancient Greeks had multiple names for love that all had different meanings. I personally don’t know them all, but from what I recall, Eros is what they call romantic love.

Sorry for blabbing on, you don’t have to respond to this at all, just wanted to vent a little.

Oh no you're fine venting, I think a lot of people often think of Aphrodite in a specific way (pretty goddess of love who just cheats on her husband and is vindictive all the time) and here's what I will say regarding the way I'm writing Aphrodite!Reader:

Neither the reader nor Nikto is a reliable narrator.

Aphrodite sees herself as this wonderful loving force but she still walks the battlefield, taking trophies as often as she takes lives. She views herself as innocent in all of this drama and rumors, but she's done nothing to stop them(It's nice having Ares talk about how beautiful and good in bed she is, y'know?) She loves Nikto but she also treats him a bit like a curiosity, waiting for him to come to her because, well, everyone does eventually.

And Nikto is stuck in his vision of being cast aside by the gods. He's trapped in their mockery of him, why wouldn't he assume his unwilling wife, who begged to be kept a virgin goddess right before their wedding, doesn't like him? Aphrodite forces their way into his life, into his space, disrespecting any boundaries he tries to put up, of course he's wary of them. But at the same time Nikto only sees the parts of Aphrodite that they want him to see, the soft, the gentle, the loving with sweet voices and stroking fingers, so of course he thinks they're a bad fit. He's every bit her opposite.

The Trojan war has yet to happen in the timeline of the hephaestus!Nikto anthology, but I keep thinking about it because it will feel very out of character for Aphrodite to start a war over something as petty as vanity, but that's only because we've been seeing her through her own eyes.

Also I will say I think a lot of my softening of Aphrodite comes from my disbelief at the way goddesses act within Greek mythology. You're telling me every single goddess is vain and jealous, that they can't keep their man from cheating on them, that the Goddess of love can't find anything to love in her husband, that Artemis would turn her back on her desire to remain a virgin because one guy looked at her the right way? Like the way that the goddesses are depicted just reeks of misogyny and that particular brand of ancient Greek hatred for women. IDK So excuse me for making Aphrodite a little out of character from the myths in my attempt to give her the benefit of the doubt where no man ever did.

[yesimwriting]

Happy new year! I wish you all a blessed 2025 ❤️

Now personally I don’t care the new years kiss tradition is about kissing your significant other, every single friend I love is getting love back from me when I’m drunk.

Bestie reader should absolutely give Louis the biggest platonic SMOOCH because he deserves it. He’d walk around with lipstick on his forehead or something, take a pic, save it for later to make fun of the level of readers intoxication.

a/n happy new year!! i'm totally the same about nye kisses and drinking, i get a little sappy and suddenly everyone in my life needs to know how much i mean to them lol i love this concept and it's perfect for the first fic of 2025!

also as a side note, going out/drinking with a vampire seems so perfect, ultimate scary dog privileges bc let some creepy man try anything and suddenly louis has a little late night snack <3 it sounds so freeing

----

The music's heavy pulse has aligned itself with your own, the base of it reverberating through your chest so thoroughly it might as well take the place of your heart. You can't bring yourself to dislike the feeling.

"O-kay." Your enthusiasm breaks the word into two. You let yourself lean into the feeling, into the fullness of your joy. "I think the regular vodka's stronger than the jello shots, because it's vodka not vodka-jello."

Louis presses his lips together in an attempt to keep from grinning too broadly. "That makes sense."

Your eyes narrow as you give yourself a moment to absorb the response. "It does," the words are much more contemplative than they need to be, "I'm so smart."

This time, Louis lets himself react. He laughs at the deliberateness pressed into your syllables. You're too out of it to think to mind his reaction. "You're drunk."

You straighten slightly as if that'll be enough to prove him wrong. "I'm happy."

Louis extends an arm, placing a hand on your shoulder in an instinctual attempt at keeping you steady. You're not exactly implying instability, but he's been spent enough time around you like this to know it's better to be safe than sorry.

"You're drunk."

You tilt your head at the correction, blinking at him curiously. "For some people, that's the same thing."

"Yeah?" The word is much too amused.

You nod enthusiastically, shifting your weight from foot to foot in a way that leaves Louis squeezing your arm a little tighter. "Yeah." You pause, eyebrows drawing together pensively as you struggle to grasp your next thought in its entirety. "I love you. I want you to be as happy as I am."

"Okay." He lets out a partial laugh. You're a good, terribly affectionate drunk. "I'm very happy. I promise."

His assurance doesn't seem to ease you. Instead of moving onto a separate topic of conversation or attempting to escape him in order to track down another shot, you frown. You step back slightly before lifting your arm. "Here."

You're holding your wrist out in front of him so innocently Louis can almost make himself forget what you're offering. "That--that's really nice of you, but I'm okay."

You frown, staring up at him with wide, sad eyes. Louis sighs, his fingers gently bending around your forearm. He pulls your hand down towards your side before stepping closer to you. In an abundance of precaution, he angles his head towards your ear. "I had that boy that grabbed your arm earlier, remember?"

"My blood is perfectly good--blood." Great, he's stumbled onto this argument again. You're not looking to be hurt, but for whatever reason, you're convinced that Louis's refusal to consume your blood to any extent is limiting your friendship. "Seriously, a doctor has never struggled to find my veins."

The defense is slurred and devoid of serious logic. Still, such a consistent mentioning of something he's always trying to ignore...always trying to forget makes it difficult to focus on anything else. The blood moving beneath your skin is warm against his palms, and it--the scent of it...

It is possible to stop. Some know how to resist, how to take just enough to feel something without bringing a life to its end. Lestat had possessed that kind of control, had used it when creating Claudia.

The thought leaves him more somber than he's prepared to be. Even if he could sense that kind of strength in himself, he--he couldn't use you in that way. Introducing you to his world at all was a cruel enough act on its own, he doesn't need to taint you further.

Louis squeezes his eyes shut, exhaling before pulling away slightly. He lifts your arm slowly, his thumb brushing against your wrist's pulse point. You watch him silently as he brings your inner forearm to his mouth. He presses his lips against your skin. "It's not you."

You're quiet for a second, something oddly sober briefly flickering behind your gaze. "I know," you relent slowly, "On some level, I know."

You look at him, then, with a careful awareness that often leaves him feeling like you're the one capable of looking into his mind. "But it better not be because you think your existence is some terrible burden you're inflicting onto me."

It's a warning he's used to hearing. His lips part, but before he can think of a response, the crowd around you shifts. A variety of voices blend together as they start to count, "...Ten...nine...."

"New years!" You beam, reaching for Louis's hand as you turn towards the others.

The countdown continues, the numbers oddly in sync for a bar so full of drink individuals. The clock hits midnight, the crowd erupts into cheers.

You grin, straightening fully as you lean towards him. Before Louis can think to ask about what you're doing, you press your lips against his cheek. He can feel the residue of your lipgloss against his skin, but he can't bring himself to mind it. This isn't the first time you've gotten a little affectionate while drunk, but normally there's some warning. "What was that for?"

You shrug innocently, "New Years kiss."

You let go of him fully, halfheartedly pushing his arm off your shoulder as you start moving away from him. "Where are you going?"

"I want another shot." The response is absentmindedly thrown over your shoulder, like Louis should have had the foresight to follow you.

A part of him is glad that your back is to him. This way, he can grin openly without encouraging your behavior. "Slow down--you're in heels."

You turn at that, flashing your middle finger before continuing forward. Oh, you're not going to get the hear end of this tomorrow.

[not-poignant]

Hi Pia

Sorry is this ask is bothersome but I need some advice.

I while ago I was going through a really bad time mentally but found solace in a fandom. I became friends with a person that I met in a particular fandom and they encouraged me to get into fanfiction and it really helped my mental health as a form of escapism.

After about a year I took the plunge into writing my own fanfics for the fandom and at first they were well received. But then a gender swapped the characters.

For context- in this fandom most of the characters are male and almost all the fanfics available are canon compliant in this regard and I so I wanted to explore an au where all the characters were women instead. I posted a few chapters and was excited for feedback but then my friend from the fandom saw my new fic and messaged me telling me to take it down because it was problematic.

I asked them to explain why and they said that changing canon like that just for the "fun" of it wasn't ok and that if I'm going to "mess around with the characters identities" then I should make them trans instead.

I told her I wasn't comfortable making the characters trans because I myself am not trans and don't feel like I am educated enough to write about gender identities/experiences that I haven't gone through and I don't want to accidentally write something disrespectful.

My friend got back to me and said that take was even more problematic. I asked her to explain further because I was really confused by this point but she didn't get back to me.

A few days later I found out she had told all the people in the discord we were in together that I was being problematic regarding canon and I'm guessing she also went to my bookmarks and sent screenshots to everyone of the "problematic" ships and fics I like??

And now I'm getting hateful messages from people who used to be my friends in the fandom and I don't know what to do.

Should I make the characters male again like they are in canon? Or take the fic down altogether?

Hi anon,

So the short answer is:

You can write genderbending. Every fic is problematic somehow to different people and audiences. Trans people don't all agree on genderbending so you're not going to get a single "correct" answer. Don't take down the fic unless you want to. Don't change the fic unless you want to. Get some better friends. It's worth educating yourself further about this subject.

The longer answer is behind the Read More:

Genderbending is complicated and nuanced and there's a ton of discussion about it. I highly recommend you go somewhere like FanLore to check that out. Especially the further reading section, to see multiple sides of the discussion to then decide how you feel.

There are trans people who love cis genderbends. There are trans people who hate them. There are trans people who don't think they should exist. There are trans people who don't give a shit. There are trans people who want more to exist. There are trans people who think only trans people should be allowed to write any kind of genderbend. There are trans people who think no trans person should ever want to write cis genderbend.

My perspective (as a trans person) is closest to this archived Tumblr post linked here.

With this quote from mercurialmalcontent:

Changing a character to the ‘opposite’ cis gender is a very different thing than making them trans or nonbinary. Insisting that people only change characters to trans is also really damn invalidating, because it implies that being trans is interchangable with being cis. Whoopsie doodle!

And then the entire response from roachpatrol, especially:

so like. people now reducing the issue to ‘cis people are gross and hate trans people’ is pretty ridiculous. it ignores basically twenty years of women questioning, confronting and then dismantling the de-facto heteronormative, exploitative male gaze in order to create the radically progressive fandom atmosphere as we know it today on tumblr. 

And then also this from curriebelle:

there’s nothing inherently transphobic about art that explores gender - quite the opposite, I think - and that’s what genderbends are about. It can be hugelybeneficial to imagine male characters as female in order to explore roles that aren’t traditionally given to women

~

I think the main thing is that in fandom, many trans people have been forced to confront how they feel about genderbends (or cis swaps), whereas many cis people never have to think about it due to cis privilege. That doesn't mean writing it is bad by default, it doesn't mean fics that feature it shouldn't exist, and it doesn't mean problematic fanfiction is bad either. Like I said, everything is problematic to someone.

What actually bothers me the most is that people who you think of as "friends" are trying to police you in this way. Obviously I don't know the full story or the content of the fic, so maybe there's greater context going on that I'm missing. But on the surface, genderbends aren't inherently transphobic, even if some trans people don't like them, or feel dysphoria over them existing.

Ultimately genderbends aren't also often about the trans experience. It's really weird for your friends to assume that writing a story about a bunch of cis women, and a bunch of trans women is going to be exactly the same, or that one is inherently "better" than the other. Trans women experience some different issues (depending on the world), and the stories are likely to have different elements to them. And you're right, not feeling comfortable telling a trans story when you're a cis person wanting to write about cis women does actually make a lot of sense. That doesn't mean you can't do it, but it does make it clear why you didn't do it.

Anon, a friend who is quick to tell a whole bunch of people on a Discord server that you're writing a fic with content they don't like is not a friend, let alone a good friend. They might have once been very caring, but their response here indicates they're putting up a chance to seem righteous and 'moral' above actually caring about you or what you have to say. Especially in a situation where honestly a lot of trans people don't agree with each other, but we all mostly agree not to be dicks to people who write this stuff and to just live and let live.

(Also, trans people can write trans fic that other trans folk feel is transphobic! Something that heals and helps one person, hurts another, that's why the rule in fiction for things like this is very much: "don't like, don't read" and also: learn about it, do some research into it, but you don't have to morally justify what you like in fiction and fiction is the place to write this stuff - it is literally pure fantasy. Heck, some trans people love cis swaps precisely because it's a cis swap instead of a specifically trans narrative, the same reason some trans people hate them. We're not all a monolith with one opinion. Thank god).

Going into your bookmarks to reveal the 'problematic' things you like to a bunch of randos screams of anti-nonsense, people who judge other people's morals based off the fiction they enjoy. Folks like this think it's okay to humiliate, degrade and abuse people over what they enjoy in fiction.

Honestly, if it were me, I'd block these people. Trans people aren't magically free from being abusive shitheads, just like everyone else.

Your friend may have been a friend once, but what they're doing now is just shitty. Ironically, it's also pretty transphobic to the trans people who love and write cis swap and also the trans people who love and read it.

[bapeach]

We're just friends, right?

This is my first time writing a story so I'm sorry if it's no good 😅. Let me know what you guys think! Pairing(s): Azzi Fudd x female!reader Word count: 2.3k+ Summary: Y/N is head over heels for her best friend Azzi and doesn't think Azzi likes her back. Turns out she's wrong. ------------

Y/N's POV: I chuckle, hearing Paige and KK mess around on Instagram live on the other side of the room. “Ayo, was that Y/N?” KK says, reading someone’s chat from where she’s sitting on the floor. “Guys, say hi!” Paige says before turning the camera to KK’s bed, where I’m laying between Azzi’s legs. I wave at chat with a grin, hearing Azzi say hi from behind me, where she’s braiding my hair. “Someone said y’all look cute.” KK says before looking over at us, scrunching her face in disgust before looking back at the chat. “Of course we do” I say with a smirk, leaning back a little to look at Azzi, sending her a wink. She laughs softly, shaking her head and pushing my head back to continue with my hair.

“Is Y/N single?” Paige reads out loud before looking at me with a mischievous grin. I'm going to kill her. Paige found out about my crush on Azzi not too long ago and has been teasing me relentlessly ever since. She has tried to convince me to just make my move already, saying that Azzi definitely likes me back but what if she’s wrong? What if Azzi doesn’t like me back and she starts feeling uncomfortable around me? No. I’m not telling her.

I just flip her off and roll my eyes without answering. “Where’s my girl, Nika?” I ask no one in particular. Nika also knows about my crush, but whereas Paige has been a little shit about it, Nika has been my rock. Always there to listen to my rants and support me in any way I need. “I think she said she was just gonna head to our dorm after practice.” Paige mutters. 

“Text her to come over, I can’t deal with you losers without her.” I say before hearing Azzi scoff behind me, as she pulls my hair a little. “What was that?” she says, raising her eyebrow at me. “Not you of course, I was talking about tweedle dee and tweedle dumb over there.” I quickly mutter, my voice growing louder at the end of my sentence. “That’s what I thought” Azzi says, sending me a little grin. I smile back before looking back at Paige and sticking my tongue out as I hear her cough something that sounds a lot like “whipped”.

It’s not long until Nika walks in, smirking while announcing she’s there to “save Y/N and Azzi from the idiots”. I smirk hearing Paige and KK whine about getting bullied. I feel Azzi tap my thigh, letting me know she’s done with my hair. I lean back, letting my head fall into her lap, smiling up at her. It’s ridiculous how beautiful she looks, even when she’s upside down. “Thanks Azz” I mumble, staring at her a little longer than any friend would. “Anytime” she says softly, trailing her finger down my face. I grin a little harder before remembering we’re not alone in the room. 

I get up, walking over to where Nika is sitting with Paige and KK and lean my head on her shoulder. I think if I stayed there, laying in Azzi’s lap a second longer, I would’ve confessed my undying love for her and that wouldn’t end well (Right? Right.). Nika looks at me with sympathy in her eyes, squeezing my leg before turning to the chat and reading a funny comment, trying to distract everyone from my sudden movement. Successfully avoiding looking at Azzi, I completely miss the small frown on her face as I left her side. I miss the small pout on her face as she misses my body heat instantly. Because why would she? We’re just friends (Right? Right.).

I try to keep my energy high but I can’t stop thinking about how much I wish Azzi were mine. How much I wish she wants me the same way I want her. I can’t stop thinking about how her lips would feel against mine. Were they as soft as they looked?

I get up, catching everyone’s attention. “I think imma head out, I’m getting tired.”. “Damn grandma, already?” KK jokes. I flick her ear before giving Paige’s head a tap and leaning out of the way so they can’t hit me back. I give Nika a quick hug and a kiss on the temple before walking over to Azzi. I give her a hug and try not to think about how she smells like home. I kiss her temple, holding my lips against her head a little longer than necessary before pulling back and walking to the door. “Bye losers, bye Niks, bye Azzibaby!” I say, earning a middle finger from KK and Paige while getting a grin and a wave from Nika and a soft smile from Azzi.

Once I reach mine and Nika’s dorm, I make a beeline for my bed, flopping down with a sigh. “C’mon, keep it together you idiot.” I grumble to myself, slapping my hands to my face. Not having KK’s live open on my phone, I don’t even realize that Azzi is barely reacting to the live since I’ve left. 

3rd person:

Azzi barely even hears whatever Paige and KK are arguing about. She barely hears Nika as she’s trying to get both girls to stop fighting. The only thing going through her mind right now is Y/N. Y/N with that annoyingly adorable smirk. Y/N that always makes her laugh, even when she feels like the world is closing in on her. Y/N who always knows what to say and is there for everyone, even when they don’t deserve it. Before she realizes what she’s doing, she’s getting up, making the other girls halt their conversation. “I uh, imma head out too” she says, already thinking about going straight to Y/N’s room. 

After saying her goodbye’s, Azzi walks right over to Y/N’s dorm. Before she knows it, she’s standing in front of the door, knocking and realizing she doesn’t even know what she’s gonna say. She doesn’t get the time to regret her actions though, as Y/N opens the door almost immediately. Azzi’s heart stops for a minute. Of course she’s seen Y/N in just sweats and a sports bra plenty of times before, but Y/N still manages to make her feel breathless every time. 

Y/N's POV:

“Hey… are you okay?” I say with a small frown, seeing Azzi stand in front of my door looking at me with a blank face. “Yeah no yeah, I just-... can we talk?” Azzi stumbles over her words, making me frown a little harder, not being used to her being so nervous. “Of course, come in…” I say softly, stepping aside to let her in. How? How does she look so gorgeous all the time? Even now, being a stumbling nervous mess, it’s like she’s art come to life.

I stare at her a second too long before coughing awkwardly and leading the way to my room. I watch as she sits down and fidgets with her hands. Quickly walking over, I sit next to her and grab her hand, softly squeezing it. I try to shake off the thoughts about how soft her hands feel and how perfect they fit in mine. I need to focus. I look down into her eyes, waiting for her to say whatever she needs to say. I can feel my heart pound a little harder. What if she knows? What if she knows I like her and hates me?

“You know how sometimes we jokingly flirt and how fans ship us?” she started, looking right back at me. I freeze for a second. “I- what?” I mutter. She knows. She knows. FUCK SHE KNOWS. This is bad. This is so bad.

“Do you think it’s weird? How they always make edits of us and stuff? I mean, they don’t understand that the flirting is just a joke… right?” she looks away for a second before looking back at me.

A joke. A joke. A joke. God I knew the flirting wasn’t real so why does it still hurt so much to hear her say that? I clench my jaw, “Right…”. I look away, I can’t bear to look her in the eyes, knowing she’ll see right through me. She knows me well enough to know what I’m thinking by just one glance. If I look at her now, she’ll see the pain in my eyes and that can’t happen. Because she doesn’t like me (Right.). I take my hand out of hers and scratch my neck. I can’t stand touching her right now. 

“Y/N? Look at me.” I hear Azzi say but I can’t. I can’t. I can’t, okay? NO! Stop! She’s your best friend Y/N, you knew this would happen from the start. LOOK AT HER! I look at her, forcing a smile on my face. Don’t let her know this is hurting you, she doesn’t deserve that.

She frowns, looking at me with a look in her eyes. A look I can’t decipher. “You’re upset with me… aren’t you?” she mumbles, her lips forming a small pout. “No, of course not, why would I be upset with you Azzi? We’re just friends, nothing more.” I say, gritting my teeth, trying not to break my jaw with how hard I'm clenching it. But I messed up. I know it. And so does she. 

Azzi’s eyes show that she’s hurt before the words are even properly out of my mouth. I said her name. I said her name, not Azz, not Azzibaby, not princess or one of the 50 other nicknames I have for her. I said her name and now she knows for certain that I’m upset. And god I wish I could take it all back because seeing her look up at me with that look in her eyes. The look I caused? That hurts more than knowing she’ll never like me back. Because at the end of the day, she’s my best friend and I NEVER want to cause her pain. 

3rd person:

Azzi’s heart ached but Y/N being upset must mean something right? A normal friend wouldn’t be upset over being called a friend. A normal friend wouldn’t look at her the way Y/N does. Normal friends wouldn’t cuddle, laying face to face, talking about their hopes and dreams, the same soft way they do. So that MUST mean Y/N likes her back, right…?

“You’re lying” Azzi said, trying to catch Y/N’s eye again as the girl tries to look anywhere but at her. Y/N gets up, needing some distance between her and Azzi before she blurts out everything she’s been dying to tell her. “It’s getting late, we’ll talk later okay?” she says, looking at the ground while crossing her arms, trying to find some comfort in her own arms, knowing she’d rather have Azzi’s around her. Azzi stands up too, her frustrations rising. Frustrations at Y/N for not just confessing but also frustrations at herself, for not having had enough courage to just do it herself.

Y/N's POV:

“No.” Azzi declares. I look back up, feeling a little surprised at her bluntness. “No, you’re going to tell me the truth.” she says sternly, stepping closer to me. “What truth?” I squint at her. Don’t say anything! She doesn’t like you back (Right? Right.). Not letting off, Azzi stepped closer, “Don’t act dumb. Tell me the truth. Tell me how you feel about me.”. “Tell the truth? How about YOU tell ME the truth.” I say, stepping closer, my body tense. Please. Please. I’m begging. Let this mean what I think it does.

“You already know the truth.” Azzi says, looking right back at me, stepping even closer until we’re so close I can feel her body heat radiating off of her. “Do I?” I challenge her, refusing to let myself believe that maybe Azzi Fudd, the people’s princess, likes me back.

Growing tired Azzi steps forward, taking a deep breathe before softly saying, “If I were to tell you I liked you… what would you do?”. I freeze for a moment, not believing my ears. When I look her in the eyes I see the same soft look she seems to always have reserved just for me. I soften, my shoulder sagging down as I look at her with some sort of desperation in my eyes. I need her to be telling me the truth, i couldn't handle it if she didn't mean it. "Azzi please" I beg quietly. I'm not even sure what I'm begging for but she does, because she knows me better than anyone.

She takes one final step closer to me, grabbing my hand with a smile that could light up the world. “I like you… so much, it’s actually pretty insane” she starts, chuckling towards the end of her sentence. I scan her face for a second before grabbing her face in both hands and leaning in slightly, giving her the chance to still pull away. 

Azzi’s heart flutters from how gentle Y/N is with her. Leaning in the rest of the way, Azzi kisses me with a small smile on her face. I kiss her. I kiss her and it's like the world stops. I can't believe it, I'm kissing the girl of my dreams. The girl that is the kindest, sweetest soul. The people's princess. My best friend. My Azzi.

We pull away after a few seconds but I don’t let her get very far, face still cupped between my hands. She smiles her million dollar smile and teases, “So… this means you like me back right?”. I roll my eyes but I can’t seem to hold back the smile that’s growing on my face. “Shuddup” I mumble, pulling her back in. She likes me back? (Right.)