#Like guys from the discord you know what happens when I think about him too much

[transgendercastiel]

I am a cheetah and Troy and abed are the dogs they put in my enclosure to keep me from going insane

[ace-turned-confused]

sickening desire

joel masterlist | read on ao3

pairing: stepdad!joel miller x f!reader summary: you and your stepdad don't have much in common, but you always try to keep things friendly. back home for college break, he's not making it very easy. word count: 2,7k warnings: 18+ only, reader is able-bodied & wears a skirt, big ol' age gap (reader is nineteen), food mention, joel is big & beefy, stepcest, cheating, fucked morals all round, pet names, joel's a disgusting dirty perv (i'm so serious), smut, grinding, mentions of m & f masturbation, unprotected p in v, cockwarming, 1 spank, creampie, dirty talk, sprinkle of daddy kink, praise kink, panty kink a/n: written for @beefrobeefcal's MARRIED JOEL SITS ON YOU prompt - i got to witness the birth of this on discord, and thought how can i make this cute idea deranged instead, so here we are. idk how all this happened. this is stepcest, you have been warned. if it's not your thing then pls scroll on, no hard feelings in here <3 not beta'd

After weeks of phone calls, texts and endless hounding from your mother, you caved and decided to come home for your college break. She was missing you like crazy, and apparently you had aunts and cousins who were just dying to see you after so long, no doubt ready to bombard you with questions about the life of a college girl as if you were the first of the kind.

So, you came home to your mom and her new-ish husband, Joel Miller. You can count the number of times you’ve met him on one hand, one of those occasions being their wedding. You’re not sure how they make it work, but then opposites do attract…

Marriage has been good to Joel, his mental health and financial stability have improved, and overall he seems a happier person — not that you could tell from looking at him, with a permanent scowl etched on his face. The only ‘drawback’ seemed to be the effect it had on his waistline — his jeans now too tight around his thighs, the seams visibly strained, and his tummy poking out past his belt. They no doubt add to his eternal pissed-off facade, but he’s far too stubborn to admit he needs to buy new ones.

Your mom reminds him, often, how much he’s filled out in recent times, and judging by the bitterness in her voice, she clearly doesn’t approve. You’re not sure why she disapproves, but you’d never admit that.

From what you know, he’s neither an overly good nor a bad guy, he’s just… Joel, and the two of you have nothing to talk about, so you keep your distance out of courtesy. At least, you try to.

Since you’ve been home, you’ve caught him staring a few times but pin it down to aged eyesight. Most days he greets you in the kitchen with a husky ‘mornin’ sweetpea’, and makes a point of brushing up against you, half hard and warm in his threadbare sweatpants. He’ll place a hand on the small of your back when he stands beside you, pinky wandering down to toy with your waistband.

You cover up the way your breath catches and stop yourself from clenching your legs together every time — either he doesn’t have a grasp on personal space, or he’s doing this on purpose. The way he watches you move around once he’s sat down says all you need to know. You try not to think about it.

-

You’re flicking between channels one night when the front door clicks open, the heavy stomp of workboots echoing down the passage and into the room. Joel waltzes in, dumping his keys and without a word, sits directly onto you.

“What the fuck?”

“This is my chair, sweetpea. Not my fault you’re in it.”

You try pushing him off you, a losing battle with the extra kilos he’s put on since tying the knot with your mom. He mumbles something to you, his words lost underneath the TV and your strained grunting.

“What?” You huff at him, growing more and more agitated.

“I asked, you gettin’ off on this like you did sittin’ on my lap?”

Your mind swirls as you try to pinpoint what he means. It’s just when you’re about to give him lip and ask him what the fuck he’s on about, that you remember — and suddenly you wish the world would just swallow you whole.

-

During Sunday’s roast lunch, you were surrounded by extended family, filling in the blanks and avoiding the painfully personal questions; Joel spent the day with his standard disgruntled look and your mom was overzealous in her storytelling — everything and everyone just how you remembered.

Everyone broke off into smaller bubbles after lunch, and you stared at Joel as he unbuckled his belt and slumped back on your aunt’s couch — he stared right back at you, head cocked to one side as he weaselled his way into your mind with just a slight smirk and a wink, large hand resting teasingly over his crotch. You left the room, intentionally distancing yourself from him the rest of the day.

It was late afternoon by the time you begrudgingly hugged each family member goodbye and settled in the backseat next to Joel, some extras tagging along for the free ride back to your neighbourhood. With your headphones in and all other passengers occupied, you tried to nap the rest of the way home and regenerate the energy siphoned from you throughout the day. You had no complaints, up until now.

You sat up when your mom stopped off at a different house with just over half the trip still to go. Her heart of gold meant she’d offered a lift home to too many people for her one car, so being the youngest, she suggested you just squash up or sit on someone's lap… Which is fine when you’re nine, not nineteen.

And not just anyone offered up a place, no, Joel lifted his hand in the air and said you could sit on him — with no other way to get home, you pinched your eyes and cringed, but did it anyway. You were fine for the first 15 or so minutes until the road became uneven, and you realised just how fucked this whole thing was — when you first sat down on Joel, he wasn’t hard. You took a breath to try to steady yourself without drawing extra attention.

It was just a… natural response? God, that doesn’t make it any better.

You shifted forward, tried to reposition your weight over his legs and knees and told him you were just getting stiff — wrong fucking choice of words as you became even warmer than before.

Your mom stopped off to refuel along the way, everyone climbing out of the car to stretch, and you made a beeline for the bathroom, splashing yourself with water to cool down.

Joel watched as you came back to the car and you tried not to stare when you saw he was fully hard in his jeans; you felt mortified when you saw the damp patch you’d left on the fabric.

Back on Joel’s lap for the rest of the trip, everyone else was asleep with your mom still driving, radio turned up and blissfully unaware. You’d be able to forget about this, lock the memory away and move on if you hadn’t been so fucking turned on.

What’s worse, you making your stepdad hard, or him making you wet?

-

Joel snuck his hands onto your hips and you tensed, caught off guard by his touch.

“Keep ya steady,” he muttered, fingers digging into your skin.

Holding onto the seat in front for balance, he felt you were trying to lift your weight off him. He tightened his grip on you, slowly pulling you down onto him completely. There was no going back — he was fully hard by now, so he may as well get the most from this.

He pulled you to lean into his chest, his voice quiet in your ear, “S’alright sweetpea, almost there.”

Your head was turned to watch your mom the whole time, and Joel should have cared, but he just couldn’t, not when you were all warm and sweet on top of him. You stayed taut the entire trip home, Joel’s hands on your hips and bulge pressed deliciously against your core. He shifted you atop him every so often, and you desperately wanted to hate how good it felt.

When you finally arrived home, you clambered out of the car and left everyone to fend for themselves, darting for your room. You were about to close the door when you caught Joel staring again, the front of his jeans damp and darkened from where you were perched. You unpacked your clothes, sorted out your washing, and even took a shower but the incessant ache was still there. You finally gave in and shoved your hand between your legs.

-

A loud advert plays on the TV and brings you back into reality, Joel still firmly on top of you.

“Don’t act all fuckin’ innocent on me now, I know those panties of yours were gettin’ all wet with you grindin’ down on me like that.”

“I wasn’t—”

“You were real quick to run off to your room that night, you had to stick your fingers up in that cunt of yours to get yourself off?”

“Fuck you, Joel.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’d love to. I know you dream of gettin’ fucked real good by your daddy, huh?” He twists to look at you, the motion pushing more of his weight onto you. “No point in arguin’ with me, I heard you that night… I’ve heard you on a lot of nights since you been home, always callin’ out for me.”

You don’t talk back as you keep pushing to get him off of you — he has enough leverage just from hearing you at night, he doesn’t also need to know that you are enjoying having his weight on you like this, unable to fight back or do anything about it.

“Now you got nothin’ to say?” He lifts himself slightly and gestures for you to get up, grabbing your wrist before you can walk away. “Did I say I was done talkin’?”

He faces you towards the TV, standing you between his now spread legs. Skating his hands up the back of your legs, goosebumps rise on your skin as he moves higher and higher, lifting the hem of your skirt as he goes. He kneads the swell of your ass, sliding his thumbs under the edge of your panties.

“These the ones you had on that day?”

“Huh?”

“Barely touched you and you already can’t think straight. Are these the panties you had on when you sat on my lap?”

“Uh, no? I don’t know, Joel.”

He pulls your panties up to expose more of your skin, smacking a hand down on the side of your ass. You jolt forward at the impact, a fresh wave of arousal seeping out between your folds.

“‘S a real shame, I bet they were soaked right through, huh? Soakin’ ‘em right now, the way you’re droolin’ for me. You wanna know somethin’, sweetpea?” You don’t bother answering, lost in the feeling of finally having his hands on you. “Never used to enjoy doin’ laundry before you came to visit, but now… Well, now I get to see all the pretty panties you have. And I always know when you’ve been thinkin’ of me, they get extra dirty.”

He reaches up to grip your hip, his other hand twisting to push in between your legs. Your hips jerk as he traces his fingers along your damp panties, pushing up into you against the fabric.

“Seems like you actually were gettin’ off on havin’ me on top of you…” You crane your neck at the clink of his belt buckle and watch as he drags his zipper down. He stares up at you the whole time. “But now you’re gonna sit on me again.”

Pulling you backwards by your waist, he keeps your skirt lifted and hooks a finger into the gusset of your panties, tugging them aside. He runs his fingers through your folds, already sticky with need. You clench your legs when he pulls away again, and he sighs, frantic and satisfied; turning around again you see he’s taken his cock in his hand, thick and hard, coating himself in your slick.

He guides you down onto him and a gasp slips from you as he drags the head of his cock through you to line himself up. Your gasps turn to a strangled moan as he pulls you to sit, sheathing himself completely — it’s a delicious stretch without any prep, and again you find yourself wishing you could hate this, hate him for doing this.

He lets your skirt drop down again as you settle on his lap, and picks up the TV remote with one hand, the other a vice grip on your waist. He flips through the channels, ignoring the fact you’re sitting firmly on him.

“What are you doing?”

“What’s it look like? We’re watchin’ TV, sweetpea. And you’re gonna be a good girl for me and sit still. With all the starin’ and whinin’ you do, this was only a matter of time.”

“And all the staring you do?”

“As if you don’t fuckin’ love it.” You clench around him at his words and he sniggers at you. “You’re real tight, sweetheart. Now sit still.”

-

You’re not sure how long you sit like this — Joel staring deadpan at the TV with his hands wrapped around your waist, and you aching for relief as you hold back from squirming on top of him. The initial sting has subsided, replaced now with a steady and simmering burn as you leak around him.

Your breathing deepens as you fight with yourself — do stay composed and try to win, or give in and let Joel make you feel good?

“Won’t lie, sweetpea, I’m impressed. Didn’t think you had it in you.” His low voice draws you from your inner conflict. “‘Specially now that you got me in you.”

You can practically hear the shit-eating grin on his face, and he punctuates himself with a lift of his hips, rolling you on him. Fuck it, just give in. Whimpering as he repeats the motion over and over, it’s the most he’s done the entire night.

“You wanna know somethin’ else?” He keeps grinding your hips against him, the stretch of his cock and the strain of your panties against your clit bringing you closer and closer. “Dunno if you’ve ever noticed your panties go missing? S’cause I took ‘em, sweetpea. I take your pretty panties and I use ‘em to jerk off, dirty or clean, doesn’t matter to me, s’long as they’re yours. I smell ‘em, I wrap ‘em around my cock, I picture you wearin’ ‘em when I come all over ‘em.”

At some point in his rambling, he’d snaked a hand around to your front and under your skirt, and shoved his fingers in your panties to circle your clit. Just like a lot of things lately, you’re trying to hate how much you love it.

“That’s it sweetpea, come all over your daddy.”

Your legs tense, trapping his hand as he works you through your high, murmuring praises in your ear as you writhe on top of him — unfortunately for you, it’s the hardest you’ve ever come. He doesn’t give you time to think, wrapping his arms around you to lift you up and bundling your arms behind your back.

“Stay there, ‘m not done with you.”

Steadying yourself by leaning on his jean-covered thighs, he starts pistoning up into you, over and over as he uses you for his own high. Squeezing your hips, he pulls you down to match his thrusts, the room filled with his grunting and your whining and the obscene squelch from between your legs each time he fills you. It’s not long before he starts shuddering underneath you, pulling you down hard as he spills into you with a groan.

He holds you, almost affectionately in his arms as he relaxes, warm breath being puffed into your neck as he nuzzles against you and his hands smoothing over your clothes. Turning to look at him, his lips are just parted and his pupils are blown wide. You try to discern the emotion behind his eyes, surging forward to press your lips to his instead, afraid of what the truth might be.

It’s soft, it’s sweet, it’s almost pure, the way he kisses you back, the hairs of his beard and moustache prickling your skin as a hand comes up to cradle your face, the other still held around your waist. You pull back from him, and he has that usual deviant glint in his eyes when he opens them again.

He stands you in front of him, just like you were before this, and he pulls your panties back over your core. He waits and watches as his spend starts oozing out of you and gets absorbed into the already damp cotton.

“Definitely gonna make good use of these ones, sweetpea.” He winks as he stands up, tucking his softening cock back into his jeans, still sticky from both you and himself. “Next time you can wear ‘em, just like I told you.”

tagging some friendos from the wip wednesday snippets, Imk if you'd like to be taken off <3

@luxurychristmaspudding @whocaresstillthelouvre @milla-frenchy @clawdee @burntheedges

@greenwitchfromthewoods @yopossum @evolnoomym @mountainsandmayhem @bubble-pop-eclectic

comments & reblogs are hugely appreciated, forehead kisses to all 💜

dividers by @saradika-graphics

[ofswordsandpens]

Am I the only one who thinks about how The Lightning Thief would have gone if instead of Grover, Percy picked Luke to go with him and Annabeth on the quest? Luke, who was sick of the idea of doing quests that had already been done was just picked to go on a unique quest by this demigod who he was planning to manipulate, and the quest was unique because he helped to make it so. And while he'll likely be plotting to hide the fact that he's a lightning thief, reworking things to take heat off himself, one of his quest mates would be Annabeth, the half blood he personally saved and brought to camp, whom he would have to work like hell to hide his deeds from.

listen I'm loving the comedic potential of this because in my heart of hearts, I feel like Luke's too enamored with the idea of razing Olympus for him to doubt what he's doing, but balancing that razors edge where he's actively trying to sabotage the quest and kill Percy while not tipping off Annabeth, and also trying to plant seeds of doubt and discord both between Percy and Annabeth and also about the gods while trying not to be too obvious about it because maybe, just maybe he can convince Annabeth to side with him.

except as usual Luke's nefarious plans are constantly being foiled by 2 tweens and its embarrassing cause they're not even trying. Percy's not wearing the shoes and keeps making up polite reasons on why he can't without seeming like he's rejecting Luke's gift (cause that would be rude) and Annabeth's like "well I'm gonna wear them then" and Luke's panics like "NO" but he also can't wear them so then they just stay in the bag untouched. then Luke keeps directing them into the paths of monsters in the hopes Percy's gonna get taken out but holy hell this kid just won't die. Like literally just escapes mortal peril by the skin of his teeth and doesn't even realize it. It's like an old silent film where the entire front of the house falls off and the guy survives because he just happened to be standing right where the open window is.

Then Luke's also trying to stir up some anger at the gods, testing the waters with Annabeth, but she's so in the height in the idealization of her mom it's getting no where. Luke's trying to be subtle like "hey... don't you think it's kinda of fucked up that the gods are..... uh... blaming? percy for this? and that he has to do this quest to set things right" but annabeth's like "what do you mean by that? 🤨 this is what heroes do this is how we prove ourselves" and unfortunately Percy is the only one vibing with the "hey don't you hate your dad" comments that's Luke's throwing down and that makes him fond of Percy against his better judgement but he's still gotta kill him so you know, bummer

anyway, in this quest AU Percy perceives Luke as the Responsible Adult cause he's 19 (lmao) and thus feels a little less pressure to be responsible for things himself and so when they get to the Underworld, Luke's like smirking, grinning, cause a. he's in in the Underworld and how many heroes have achieved that? b. the shoes in Percy's bag are about to drag that kid to the depths of hell or c. the lightning bolts about to appear in the bag and Luke will throw Percy under the bus to Hades (he's been practicing his betrayal speech) except wait "Percy... where's your backpack??" and Percy's like "oh I forgot it at the hotel 👉👈" and Luke loses it and picks him up to throw him into tartarus himself (he is unsuccessful)

[luvfy0dor]

Heyy, I was thinking about a concept with Fyodor (or whoever from BSD) having a streamer bf, but like, one of -those- streamers where every word they say can be quite questionable (in a “good” way/ironically). For some reason it amuses me to imagine it with Fyodor and Reader occasionally teasing him, calling him their ‘discord kitten’ or streaming for 5 hours (or more lol) saying nonsenses or playing video games instead of paying attention to Fyodor. What do you think?

“Get Off The Game ♡⁠˖” BSD x GN!Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

╰┈➤ Fyodor Dostoevsky, Dazai Osamu

Warnings;

Description; BSD men with a streamer!reader

A/n; these are in headcannon form, I hope that's alright!!! I think Dazai or Nikolai would be a better person to have this occupation w so I also did headcannons for one of them

Fyodor Dostoevsky ★

• Fyodor thinks it's stupid at first, but when he realized you made money from it he learned to tolerate it. He wasn't too fond of the noise, though.

• I don't think he was too fond of the nickname 'discord kitten', always raising an eyebrow when he's called that, he also strongly dislikes brainrot cause what do you mean you're so sigma? No you're not, you're y/n. That's unrelated, but I thought I'd add that in there.

• "A discord what? Kitten? What even is that? I am nothing of the such."

• Catch him dead before he makes an appearance on camera, he much prefers to keep his business private. He doesn't mind you talking about him though, he loves that. He loves that people know you're already taken by him and that all those losers in your chat don't have a chance with you.

• Sometimes he'll watch your streams from a different room in attempt to understand your work and the art of gaming. He enjoys when you play horror games, especially the ones that get you thinking. He sometimes finds your facial expressions when you get jumpscared funnier than anything else in the stream.

• When it comes to the duration of your streams, Fyodor can entertain himself for as long as you need him to, but he can't help but feel like he'd rather be spending that time with you every now and again.

• He usually just takes the time to work on his DOA stuff, and occasionally he'll get so lost in it that he doesn't even realized you've finished with your stream and whenever that happens, you make some tea and go to fetch him to spend some quality time together, whether it's you laying in his lap while you both read a book or having a conversation about whatever comes to mind

Dazai Osamu ★

• Dazai is your #1 supporter since day one. There's a conversation going on about content creators? He's immediately bringing you up. You need new items for your set up? He's manifesting that said items go on sale ASAP!

• Oh my god, and he LOVES it when you get recognized in public. He's very prideful of you and likes that it's only him and a select group of people that get to see the real you outside of the camera frame.

• He, unlike Fyodor, does have an issue with the long hours, so he busies himself with the ADA and otherwise to keep himself from walking in and talking your ear off while you play your games for umpteen thousand people.

• He doesn't despise being called a discord kitten, but it does confuse him a little bit. But whatever, as long as you have 'my' in front of any name he doesn't care.

• Dazai watches your old streams when he's bored and can't help but giggle at the out of pocket or questionable things you say. He likes to watch the compilations of you on YouTube, too.

• Sometimes he'll quote you out of the blue.

• He doesn't like people trying to flirt with you or talk to you on the Internet as any partner wouldn't, so he is in the comment section of every post reading through individual comments. Type guy to see '❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥' comments on your posts and reply '🧯🧯🧯'

• All in all, Dazai is well received by your fanbase, especially the ones who don't try to romance you and are normal. They think he's funny and a good match for you.

A/n; I hope it wasn't to short!!! I thought it was a cutsey idea, I think Nikolai would be pretty similar to Dazai in this scemario.

[animeredhead101]

Tim Drake/ Danny Fenton Masterlist

Completed

Mesmeric Revelation by DisillusionedDanny :

Danny couldn’t stop the future. That much was true. Despite not cheating on his CAT and doing every single thing by the book to make sure that this future was not a reality, it had happened anyway. The nasty burger had blown up. His parents, Jazz, Sam, Tucker, they were all in the building when it happened.With his friends and family dead, Danny goes to the only place he thinks is safe. The infinite realms.As Danny attempts to move on from the tragedy he manages to get summoned by cultists, build a new family for himself and even find love. Not all in that exact order.Tim Drake thought getting kidnapped by cultists was probably the most annoying thing to have ever happened to him. Little did he know it would also be the best thing to ever happen. Word Count: 71,980 Complete Its very heartwarming with a dark tone in the beginning. I enjoy reading this as a comfort fanfic.

Shovel Talk by SummersSixEcho :

When Tim decided to tag along on a road trip with Danny to meet his parents, he was kinda ready for the shovel talk with his friends and family. But bringing out the secrets buried in Amity Park? That’s another kind of shovel talk Danny hadn’t prepared him for. Word Count: 71,396 Complete

Bitter, had the Heart by CastrianAmore :

Tim is the only one consistently watching. Thus he’s the first and only one to notice one more body following the streets like the bats do. A kid with all black hair and white motifs and an attitude problem that reminds him a tad too much of Jason. It was a shame Jason was adamant that he “didn’t know anything”, what a liar right?But the streets of Gotham listened and the name on everyone’s lips playing like a discordant harmony was one word: Distortion. Not that Tim knew what it meant yet, but Danny would make sure he would. If Danny lived long enough for Tim to find out. Word Count: 182,548 Complete

Tim Jr. Coffee Machine Extraordinaire by PaperPuffin :

Dick worried his lip between his teeth as he looked Tim over. His little brother was standing, zombie-like, in front of the Cave’s coffee machine. Not that the act was unusual for Tim. Just… the thing was, Tim had been doing better. Word Count: 2,330 Complete

Wanted: Dead and Alive by Astereae :

“Hey, I do I... Do I know you?” Danny asks, a hand coming up to brush something off Tim’s cheek. “No,” Tim says. “We haven’t met.” “Oh, no, I do.” Danny says, and he smiles, teeth white and sharp. “You’re that guy who rearranged my guts!” Rearranged his- Tim glances at the knotted scars on the boy’s abdomen. He can see the shine and shadow of haphazard stitches that weren’t meant to hold forever, that tore and healed over. His- This- “WHAT!?” Nightwing shouts, equal parts confused and delighted. Tim’s fucked. OR Danny Fenton's been in GIW captivity for 4 months. Tim Drake gets kidnapped by the GIW one Tuesday evening in May. Considering how many of the Bats and the Birds have died and come back to life, it was only a matter of time for some people interested in the afterlife to come poking around. The detectives can't seem to uncover any information about the mysterious white vans, however. And they keep losing the mysterious boy who seems to be the one person in Gotham to know anything at all. Word Count: 121,281 Completed

On-going

Family introductions by Half-dead Ham(Grima101) :

Danny and Tim have been dating for about a year now, figuring out their relationship between Tim’s vigilante duties and Danny’s Ghost King responsibilities. Danny is taking a small (unauthorized) break from his paperwork to find his bf flat on his ass sick trying to go on patrol. The only way to stop him was to take his place, and Danny was lucky they're the same size.

Word Count: 14,070 On-going

An Interesting Family Tree by Scififan33 :

Danny's life in Amity Park wasn't perfect, but it beat his old life. The GIW and Fenton parents didn't make things easier but at least ghost attacks had lessened since he was named Prince, to be crowned upon his twenty first birthday.He'd run from the League almost a decade ago, risking getting their attention, and for a stranger? It was insane. And yet he still got on the plane to Europe to find and warn one Tim Drake that he was being targeted. Word Count: 68,348 On-going This is one of favorite fanfics, I love the interactions of Danny and Tim throughout the story. I also love how the author writes two story lines together. I love both Fandoms and to read a story were they work well together is always a treat!

Tim Drake's I.E.F (Invisible Eldritch Friend) by Half-dead Ham :

The last thing Tim expected while getting stalked was to get used to the unseen creature and how they started taking care of him. He expected even less for them to be the same age

Word Count: 72,042 On-going

I find it hilarious that the bat stalker gets stalked and they some how make it into a funny Rom-com.

Till Death and Beyond by Scififan33 :

Danny and Tim have known each other for a year, have been dating for months, and are very happy. Sure, Tim would prefer if his boyfriend let him help him at least get a nicer apartment, or even an internship at WE but Danny won't let him. Dating Tim is not keeping his head down but as far as everyone knows, Danny Fenton died with his parents and sister. Danny Nightingale has no links to him, thanks to Tucker and Technus' magic.But there are still those who would love nothing more than to get their hands on Phantom, despite his not having been seen in a long time.And why is there a vigilante bleeding out on his apartment floor? Word Count: 79,279 On-going I love the fic for the fact that we talk about how the bat-fam treats Tim. Like he is such a sweetheart and he is not treated they way he should be. Like don't get me wrong I love the fics were Damion and Tim get along and fix their relationship but the way they interact this would not have occurred and to see this in this fanfic and Tim recognizing that its not okay was amazing. I also love that Danny doesn't take any shit from the bat-fam, hes likes fuck with Tim and see what happens. Defiantly one of my top 5!

The Rebirth of Tim Drake by Bewitched_Forest :

Tim gets turned into a halfa after an incident with a newly spawned Lazarus Pit, electricity, and Ra's Al Ghul. When he awakens, he finds himself in the Ghost Zone. Taken to fellow Halfa, Danny Fenton, he travels to Amity Park where he learns with the help of Danny and his friends just what he has become. And how being a Halfa has made him one of the most hunted beings in the world.

Not Abandoned! Updating will just be whenever I feel like it cause I got burnout.

Word Count: 57,663 On-going

My Name is Not Wounder Boy! by CrepuscularCryptid :

Casper High's juniors go on a trip to Washington DC every year. This year it's Danny's class's turn. Absolutely nothing goes wrong. Nothing. Shut up, Tucker. ************* Wherein Danny meets Wonder Woman, fosters diplomacy between the Living and the Dead Realms, and eventually gets a new haunt. Word Count: 44,832 On-going

The Price Of Peace by JoyLess_Nightsk :

The Juistria League - the alliance of the major countries of the continent Juisitria - has long since stood for peace. Unfortunately there is one country that is a thorn in their side whenever they try to solidify that peace: The Infinite Lands, a country of barbarians to the north where the only reason they survive is the magic in the air. Where the magic is so strong that even children develop a talent, which they themselves call "the blessings of the dragons". The country that, last time the Juistria League had tried to negotiate, had waged a war more brutal then anything seen before on them, for over a decade - right until the moment a rebellion caged him. Not long ago, his murderer took the title. And now, that very same newly crowned High Chief demands negotiations of them. Bruce would rather die, would rather see Gotham and all of Juistria in flames than to allow that man to take one of his children. Tim, however, makes another decision before he could say that. Now, everyone has to hope Phantom will be happy with the boy… Meanwhile Danny is just too stunned that they actually agreed to that to do anything about the sudden engagement. Word Count: 50,397 On-going I usually am not a fan of fics like this but I kinda love this but just the fact that their are so many miscommunications between the Gotham and Infinite Lands. It definitely a great start and I cant wait ti read more!

Rated M

A Grave Affair by OnlyHereForTheSnacks :

Tim was used to life taking unexpected turns. It was just another part of being a vigilante. Sometimes life gives you lemons and sometimes an immortal assassin sells you into an arranged marriage to the Ghost King for a piece of jewelry. (Lots of plot. Smut in Ch.3. Mind the tags) Word Count: 14,744 Complete

Seeing Double by Wraiith(Jayyydez) :

"You remember that conversation we had about me being able to duplicate?" Tim's brow furrowed even more. Which conversation-? His mouth dried all at once, his heart threatening to burst out of his chest. Oh. Oh, Ancients and Gods alike, help him. Danny was having this conversation with him. He was having it with him right now, and Tim felt more awake than he had in days. Word Count: 7,752 Complete

Skin of Your Teeth by halfgone(milkywxy) :

Tim can't bring himself to lie about his secret identity anymore. When he spills his secret to his boyfriend, Danny, many more secrets are soon to follow. Some with interesting results. Prompts: Tim Drake |Eldritch Danny| Teeth Word Count: 7,065 On-going

[ckret2]

Ages ago I made a post about what Ford thinks about Bill (in a billford context), and I've had an infodump on what Bill thinks about Ford floating on discord for months, and an ask finally prompted me to post it, so here ya go:

If asked why he likes Ford, Bill himself claims that Ford overthinks everything, but in such fun, interesting ways, and Bill likes the way Ford thinks about things.

But really, Bill overthinks everything too; it's just he overthinks social things. He's always calculating how to persuade, control, manipulate people. He never has a conversation that isn't a chess game, it's exhausting and he won't even admit it's exhausting. When's the last time his top priorities weren't either "how do I convince some sucker to make a portal" or "ugggh I'm so SICK of the PORTAL I'm gonna THROW A PARTY and NOT THINK AT ALL"

Whereas Ford is guy who'd hear someone say something incorrect and bluntly go "no you're wrong" and accidentally offend the hell out of them because he's SO excited to share this fantastic information they don't know. The social world DOES NOT EXIST for him until he's reminded of it.

And so he's free to turn all his brainpower instead to. Like. The environmental impact of barf fairies on fern fertilizer or whatever.

Bill knows Everything™ but he's gotten tired of doing anything with that knowledge. They're all discrete points of information to him. He doesn't have time to muse over things, he's got an inventor to manipulate at 11pm and then a party to get to at midnight. He's never once in his life thought about the impact of barf fairies on the local flora. But he does happen to know the plants in that part of the woods are more acid-resistant and wow is that why???? He's never even thought to think about that before. Thousand year mystery that Bill didn't even notice has been solved.

(On the other hand "Ford doesn't think to think about the intricacies of social interaction" is also part of what makes him so easy to manipulate, he's so much more inclined to just accept at face value a friendly offer of assistance on a big academic project. Sure Bill's helping for the sake of scientific advancement in and of itself, why wouldn't he?)

Bill wants to just, fling random facts at Ford and see if he can think up connections between them. Go nerd boy go nerd boy go

"... So there you have it Ford, that's the problem you'll have to overcome with adapting alien machinery to human fuel sources, now I wanna hear YOUR thoughts on how to overcome that problem." "Well—" talks in an uninterrupted stream that by thirty minutes in has drifted over to the history of kerosene production, which he read an interesting book about between semesters in college— "... I've gotten off topic, haven't I?" "No no, I think you're on to something. This is how brainstorming works, free association of concepts. Keep going."

Ford in the morning: "... oh no I didn't let my muse get a word in edgewise for the rest of the dream, i didn't bore him did I?" Bill: "damn, I never noticed the patent process for hurricane lamps was so contentious. There's little dramas everywhere"

When things are going well, their relationship is,

Ford: "I just wanna hear Bill teach me things about the multiverse forever."

Bill: "I just wanna hear Ford think deeply on any topic that crosses his mind forever."

Both of them when they're in peak harmony: excitedly jabbering at each other at 200 words per minute about the stupidest topic you've ever heard, but you'd need a phd in at least two fields to comprehend it

That's love!!!

Ford, having historically been socially shamed: "... am I being weird?"

Bill: "💕❤️💓yeah❣️💖❤️‍🔥"

Sometimes I think about Bill watching Ford in his sleep and being in awe at this human-shaped genius: you with your beautiful electric mind, packed into this soft flawed uneven body. one would never know it from the outside—but you're in there. This genius with a mind like a galaxy. ... and he's like, growing hair and stuff. wild.

[hoseoksluna]

A MILLION YEARS AGO | jhs

pairing: idol!boyfriend!hobi x f. reader 

genre: smut, fluff

word count: 4.6k

summary: when your faith in your healing wavers, hobi is there to go the extra mile for you.

taglist: join | playlist: million | cp: wattpad, ao3 | discord: join

warnings: near car accident, confusion in the body, iffy feelings towards an ex, seeing an ex for the first time in million years, being mistreated, religion, praying, oc smokes, hobi is the perfect boyfriend that i wish i had, oral sex (f. receiving), raw sexual intercourse.

note: i'm crying as i'm writing this because i'm so sad, but i promise this healed me more than i expected. as you know, i write little fics whenever something happens to me—and this is based off what happened yesterday. me and my cousin sat down at our smaller family event (not the one we had on friday, if you follow me on twitter), and she asked me if i were healed. and she told me about what she saw. i think it's meant to move me somewhere forward, otherwise i would've never got to see his face. i don't know. i hope you like this little fic, you know i had to write it out like i smoke out my feelings. i'm proud of this work in terms of the way it's written. think i kinda killed that. i love you guys. and i miss you, terribly. i love you.

side note: sorry for my vulnerability. a smaller side note: this is also for my baby @hoseokkie-caeks. i promised i would write a hobi one shot after berries, and here i am. <3 i love you, baby. miss you.

The night was dark. Too, too dark. 

I sensed it swathing my bones long before I glimpsed at something I should and shouldn’t have—or rather someone, to be proper. 

The trees remained unmoving, despite the summer breeze drifting through the macrocosm that unfolded with each and every footfall I shared with my beloved beside me. Hand in hand, we walked leisurely through streets that were prosaic until our energy imbued them with our intimate poetry. White swallowing, little by little, the dark. There was no one and everyone around us, but we didn’t see them; we merely saw each other, for we were in love and we deserved to be so. Hoseok after his hard, agonizing work regime and unfair treatment from his management and… the whole world essentially. Me after the way I had been treated, handled, tossed aside by the person I found inside the screen of a phone—inside a world that once used to be mine, but now is nothing but foreign. 

Million, million years ago. 

The stars were aligned just right, stringing together a shape of the wholeness and the throb of my heart, and we sat down to eat dinner with one of my closest friends that came to town—one me and Hoseok have settled in within the precious, year-long break that burst open in his work life. Hobi didn’t want to see people, at least not those who didn’t bear familiar faces, and I didn’t want to see the city, so it was the most fateful of compromises, most perfect of the kind that was naturally threaded between us; a conjoined idea that blinked within our brains at the same time. And the laughter that followed after we voiced it out at the same time, the long kiss that spread roots inside the pillows of our lips—to this day, it is a fond memory, or perhaps something beyond that, that embraces me at night before I enter the realm of dreamland, tugging me closer into the snug heat of Hoseok’s safe place that I regard his body to be. 

Though before we arrived, I gazed up at that constellation of me through the windscreen as Hoseok’s car began to make a strange noise that unnerved him. I prayed for its rightness to be true and I prayed for our safe travel, as short as it was. According to our previous plan, we were supposed to wait for my friend, Hyun-Ae, and her boyfriend, Do-hyun, outside of the restaurant because she had a strong yearning to jump into my arms upon seeing me. My excitement for that to happen ripped my eyes away from the nightly heavens, searching for her in the dimmed lights of the mutely lively building, in the shadowed greenery surrounding it, near the trees that didn’t move, yet my hair did. 

Strange, that dark energy. 

I hoped she was peeing somewhere, where the light doesn’t reach. She invariably had a tendency to chug everything she drank and her bladder paid for it each time—but this time, she wasn’t squatting by a bush. 

She almost didn’t get to me at all. 

A driver, merely minutes away from entering our town, nearly swerved wrongly into the traffic lane that Do-hyun was driving through, yanking away the stars from the canvas of the heavens. He had to pull over and take deep breaths in order to stabilize his mental state as the thought of almost getting in a car accident with her being in the passenger seat triggered his long-fought panic attack. And because the woods at the beginning of our secluded town doesn’t have any service, we waited for them for half an hour without any knowledge of their whereabouts. 

I bit my cuticles until they bled. Until Do-hyun’s lungs were lifted of its heaviness with Hyun-Ae’s help, his breathing evened out, and he was able to get behind the wheel and cross the distance. 

Upon hearing what obstacles stood before us, I didn’t understand it at first. Hyun-Ae’s yearning was gratified, we hugged until our necks ached and our arms quivered in our stifling, long-coming hug with her legs wrapped around me, ate the food we always ordered when we were together and not apart while she filled me in—but I didn’t perceive the darkness for what it was until that very last detail. 

One she wouldn’t provide until I promised her, a million times, that I was fully healed and ready to hear it. I didn’t know what she was about to uncoil, sitting beside me as she was, with her hands in her lap. But I should’ve known that those obstacles were put in our path for my preparation. 

Hyun-Ae hinted, before she began articulating her discovery, that it was about my ex-love. I stiffened a little, taken aback. I downed a shot of the spirits that we had left. And I was being tugged in two different directions, thrown to and fro, asked by the lawlessness of life to choose. 

Stay back and not go further—not let her tell me because Hobi doesn’t know the specifics about my last situationship. 

Ask her to hold my hand and give her the consent to proceed as my curiosity was piqued and my wound was healed, a million years ago. 

And in the short dwelling of the manhandling, my spirit of inquiry crowned, my fatal flaw. I chose the latter—because why would I not? I carry my heart in my chest for my beloved beside me proudly, for his waters mine with the fulfilling streams of his laughter and sound effects, gentleness and devotion. He has grown and nurtured monsteras within its past mutilated chambers—and the longer he cradled my life and made it his own, made it his endeared responsibility, the more healing flowers of wild, undomesticated origin bloomed against the verdure. The pair of us—Hobi, the elegant leaves with its perforation symbolizing the dimples above his mouth when he smiles; I, the chamomile that has the gift to make better, but everyone mistakes it for a daisy, tossing it aside. 

Everyone but Hobi, the worker who cultivated it in me. 

And caught in the snare of my pride, I wanted to know if my ex-love still remained in the exile of his emotional unavailability, fucking everything that walks on his solitary Pluto planet while I made love to the Sun three times a day, minimally. 

Hyun-Ae gripped my hand with her lukewarm, refreshing touch as she told me that he was dating someone, fundamentally poisoning the girl with his ways like he did to me. That she didn’t understand what I had seen in him as he looked worse than ever before, a characteristic of the unhallowed set deep within his eyes. My lungs refused to inhale any particles of air; they must’ve taken a break from their work in order to process, at their own time, the information that was given to them. The male who pretended to date me while I edged his planet for years, laboring myself in order to heal him with my prayers and words because I believed him after he said he loved me, but he needed to get right first. Needed to unload his baggage and bandage up the slashes across his heart from his previous relationship. 

All sweet nothing without an ounce of genuineness. He took pleasure from the way I stayed around while he hurt me again and again by entertaining other girls, my feet indented in the soft soil of the planet. It was a form of compensation for him. A some sort of merriment—and madness, unmitigated madness for me. 

I lost my mind, standing upon that edge. And I had to get off in order to find it again, my hands outstretched beyond me—held by the invisible fingers of God while he taught me how to walk again, how to walk in a gravity-filled space of greenery, the rainbows of colors, the rain and the sunlight like a baby. 

And I did. 

I walked until my feet stopped in front of Hobi’s.

At first, I felt a sheer wisp of happiness for the guy that he managed to make such an immense step in that direction, however it flickered in me for mere seconds, replaced by a doom of nothingness that began to swim in me. Heavy, heavy nothingness that felt cosmically peculiar—and my body urged me to go outside and smoke it away.  

But my mouth spoke first. 

Who is she? Show me. 

Hyun-Ae narrowed her chocolate pools at me, her brows furrowing until they darkened. Then, they flicked towards Hobi beside me and I followed her gaze—he was preoccupied with a heated conversation with Do-hyun and he didn’t hear a word shared between us. Hyun-Ae lowered her voice, nonetheless. 

So you could compare yourself to her? No fucking way. 

But I pushed. Driven by that nothingness in me, I desired to feel something. Hurt, pride—anything that would stir my body and give it what it asked. It was used to feeling great clouds of negative emotions in terms of the male, and now it was searching for it, in spite of the million years that have flown by since. And to shut me up and distract my mind from wanting the wrong things, she showed me a picture of him. 

And upon seeing that dark characteristic of his eyes, gone, hollow and dead from the laws and the ghosts of the Pluto planet, my stomach clenched and I averted my gaze. My body rejected him—I couldn’t look at him for more than two seconds. 

My good, smart body. 

I fell into quietness, more gravely than the one this town was weaved with. Hyun-Ae’s eyes returned to their original round size, softening on me, and I held her hand tighter. I needed, vehemently, to smoke the descending nothingness away, and when I asked her to go outside with me, Hobi reached the conclusion of his conversation. Wrapped his slender fingers around my arm, tender sound effects, only for my ear to hear, slinking inside as he rubbed his nose against the place right beside it. 

You wanna go smokie smokie? Hobi asked, gliding his fingers down my arm until he reached my wrist, the belly of his index tracing the blue and violet ‘V’ shape of my veins upon my left arm. 

He grounded me. 

I nodded, my smile natural, my love for him abounding, and Hyun-Ae encouraged me to go, gently slapping the side of my bum. And so I went, hand in hand, with him.

Our inherent, pristine characteristic. 

Hobi stole my lighter once I fished it out of my purse. He didn’t smoke, but whenever he joined me, he thought it gentlemanly and proper to light up my cigarette for me. It’s the least I can do, he had explained and I had kissed him so hard for it that he blushed. 

It’s what he does now, flicking his thumb upon the spark wheel until the small flame erupts and bathes us in a delicate, orange tint. I hold the cigarette steady between my lips with my two fingers and Hobi draws closer, appeasing my inner need. Waits for me to take that first drag before he prepares me for the rush of his enormous affection by heating the small of my back with his palm, rubbing the sensitive place. It’s something that I’ve learned he likes to do; take things slow so I open for him like a bud of flower. It gives him pleasure, the laboriousness of the process and the following harvesting, the dampness of my dew the evidence of his success.  

It’s extremely attractive because he does it more for my sake than for his own. 

He lets me take another drag, our visual connection a string stouter than the constellation up above, and I feel myself, nonvocally, giving over that heaviness of the nothingness with each exhale. I decompress and Hobi can see it, joining his other hand to my loins and dipping his head to my neck. He scatters tiny, weightless kisses upon that tenderness of me and I am lulled by his enticement, soothed and sleep-drunk, his pheromones and the cedarwood of his fragrance unfettering me. 

I want to take him to bed. 

And I tell him, innocently, with my hands that clenched the muscles of his arms rounding towards his pecs and lowering to his abdomen, the ivory smoke following my movement, but never touching him. Hobi knows this is my language of sensuality and his mouth parts as he feels the words. 

“We should go.” 

He lifts an arm and brushes a strand of hair away from my cheek, his fingers lingering upon the shell of my ear—his private obsession. His endeared eyes study my features for a fraction of time before he leans in and peppers a singular kiss to the button of my nose. “Why are you sad, muffin?” 

The trees towering behind him move in a daze at last, but it’s a blurred swaying motion that merely divulges to me that the obstacles, the preparation and the dark energy have been conquered. And it helps me to speak a little. 

“Hyun-Ae told me something I didn’t really expect to hear. Can I tell you on our way home?” 

Hobi nods, cradling my cheek, and I melt. 

“I can leave the car here and we can walk home. And in the morning, we can go grocery shopping in the city.” 

I liquefy in his hold and I finish the last of my cigarette, kissing him feverishly and reciprocating the kisses he left upon my neck, sinking our domesticity into the column of his throat while he holds me and I drip into the fullness of him. 

When we return to the restaurant, Do-hyun is by himself, informing us that Hyun-ae has gone to pee. The familiarity solidifies me and I sense upon me a moonlit energy of joy that cleanses me of the past. Hyun-ae perceives it long before I open my mouth and she jumps into my arms, telling me how she’s proud of me. We say our goodbyes, promise that we’ll see each other soon, and Hobi pays for the whole table, calming every inch of me. 

I pray as we watch them drive off. I pray for their safe travel into the city and I pray over our car. 

We walk through our miniature, unlit version of the city, breathing in the purity of the air, listening to the rustling of the leaves being fondled by the breeze. Hobi mimics the act of love, rubbing his thumb over my hand, and I feel at ease when I tell him about my first love, chain-smoking just to help me infuse poetry into my words. 

With each detail, I forget it has happened to me as I unattach myself from it, consider it an element of the past that no longer has anything to do with me. Hobi lets me speak, doesn’t interrupt me, though I notice that as I venture into the brutality of the pain I waded through, his teeth grit and his jaw clenched, the preceding flush of his cheeks withering and falling beneath his skin, pallidness blanketing it in ashen gray. And it pushes me further into my process of letting go and forgetting for another million years to come. 

He stops in the middle of the road once I finish the story. Gives me a mournful look that penetrates me so deeply that I mourn, too. His hands find my forearms, my shoulders and my clavicles. Prepare me for the treasure of the most sympathetic of hugs I have ever received in my life and I loosen up in his strong hold, bury my face in his black-clothed chest as his palm holds my head to him. And he kisses my crown, kisses my temple; strengthens me when he squeezes me until I can’t breathe and I grasp that he is cleansing the pollution of the monstera leaves and the chamomile petals. 

And then he begins to speak, dampening me with a fresh layer of hydration. 

“You had to walk through hell in order to find me and I shall spend my lifetime bringing heaven to you. I swear on my life, muffin,” he says, for the entirety of the peripheral corn fields and the trees to hear, as he cradles my face and makes me look at him. My vision blears as I regard him more as my savior than I ever have before, nodding my head in agreement as my eyelashes flutter, the finality of calmness settling down in me like we did in this town. “You’re mine. You were mine when you were with him, which is why fate didn’t allow him near you. Mine to find, mine to take care of, mine to love, kiss and dance with. Mine. You’re gonna keep blooming in my hands and you’re no longer gonna pray for him, you’d done enough of that already. You’re only gonna pray for yourself.” 

This, I disagree with, dissolving sugar personified. 

“No, I’m only gonna pray for you.” 

Hobi pouts, his mouth rounding downwards, and his thumbs rub my cheeks, smearing my makeup—and I don’t mind. It’s always been his to ruin. He presses his nose and forehead to mine, breathing with me as the breeze swishes past. I slip my hands beneath the hem of his T-shirt, needing to feel his skin, and Hobi sighs against me. Withdraws a tiny bit and steals the breath he gave me. 

“Teach me how to pray for you.” 

I’m so struck with awe, wonder and my genuine love for him that I cannot speak, my lung failing, though differently this time. They swell up with the essence of my feelings for him, my devotion and my besottedness that my eyes well up before I can halt their rivulets. No one has ever prayed for me, certainly not a male I loved and looked up to. I spent years having my empty prayers echoed back to me and now the love of my life, my eternal beloved one, asks me to teach him how to pray for me. 

Only the omnipotent Listener of my prayers could make this possible for me, and before I know it—my mouth gives my beloved the instructions, the contents of my knowledge that I learned along the trajectory of my somber, otherworldly life and then he’s whispering the voice of his heart into my ear. 

“Dear God, please give my muffin the strength not to be pulled back into the life she had before me. Make sure she’s not influenced by it either. Take her burdens and give them to me because I can bear them. Relieve her heart and make her happy. Use me to do it.” He withdraws and drags his thumbs across my eyelashes, asking me to open them and I do. Once he has my attention, he seeks my guidance. “What do I say now?” 

I huff a soft laugh, endeared. Kiss the edge of his hand. “Say thank you and amen.” 

Hobi grins and the Sun peeks through the night. “Thank you and amen.” 

My laughter gains volume and he wraps his lips around it, shushing me, kissing me madly, and I bury my fingertips into his short hair, reciprocating the different, different madness and expanding it. Weightlessness seizes me and I don’t feel my limbs, stupefaction firing me with enthusiasm and then tongues clash and the kiss gains a verve that forces me to collide my body with his and— 

And then we’re dancing. 

To a slow song he begins to hum with the deep raspiness of his voice. Our bodies are one, singular, intertwined as we move to the rhythm of our unified heart and I weep. 

I weep in my joy. I weep in my contentment—and I weep in my love for him. 

He touches my back all over, cupping my hair as if it was water, leading our bodies in the dance, and there’s no one around us, no cars coming, no animals to watch us—only the trees, the fields, the buzzing of cicadas and the breeze and the moon up above. And then he’s twirling me until I’m dizzy and my soft laughter reverberates through the spaciousness of the road that is ours at this very moment. And the Sun beams at me, my Sun, as he pulls me close and continues to dance with me. I feel the jealous shafts of the light of the moon digging into my back that I soon forget about because his lips pursue mine and I dwindle away into his magnetism. 

His hands, his pheromones and his cedarwood fragrance take me to his bed. 

And he’s feasting on me like the dessert he didn’t get to have at the restaurant, bent over as I am over the foot of the bed, my dress bunched in his fist over my loins and my panties pushed to the side. My hungry beloved, my parched Sun, nuzzling his face in my femininity while I drip my dew and moan his name for him. Sucking my clit, he keeps me hovering on the cusp of my orgasm and I tremble in my vulnerable position—face planted on the bedding while the lower half of my body is raised in the air for him. And once my throat begins to let out whimpers and incoherent pleas, he draws back, closes his body over mine until his lips explore my ear and there, there he teases me. 

“What was that, my little muffin?” 

I whine, grinding my ass into his groin, and he hums. It takes me back to his song and I apperceive that it is the only thing I ever want to be pulled back to. Reminiscent of it, his song is blackened by eroticism, by his enormous arousal, drenched by my dew and I need him. While I feel God, the Listener of my prayers, to be a glaring light in me, I need my beloved Hobi to be interwoven with it. 

“I want you inside me. Please, I need it,” I beg, twirling my hips against his hardness like he twirled me in the middle of the road and Hobi sucks in a breath, exhaling it in the form of a whimper and I stoop in my heady longing. 

Abruptly, he plops me onto my back and yanks my panties away. “I’m gonna marry you, you know that?” 

I can only whisper my overwhelming agreement, my bones and my muscles too overcome with elation to do anything else. I would marry him tomorrow if I could. Go grocery shopping with him in the morning, unload it at home, put on my white silky dress and go to church with him by midday. Spend the rest of the day celebrating our union in bed, round after round until we get so exhausted that we submit to slumber, dreaming of our wedding, reliving it. 

He takes off my dress, kisses my forehead, ruffles my hair around me, his thumb dragging across the skin beneath my lower lip as if he was fixing my smeared lipstick for the special day, getting me ready, and I change my mind. I would marry him right now if I could.  

And I tell him. 

“I would marry you right now.” 

His eyes wet, casting a glimmering light upon my naked form, and a paroxysm of his joy gushes out of him and onto me. Hobi tickles my tummy with butterfly kisses, holding me down with his strong hands that he soon pins above my head, leveling with me, my dew drying on his face—yet he still glistens. Glistens with a gleam of bliss that washes over me. 

“Then, let’s get married,” he murmurs, and seizes my lips with his own, kissing me so roughly that I instinctively open my legs for him, the heated pressure in between unbearable. And then he holds my wrists in one hand while the other unbuckles his pants, fisting his length and tugging on it. My favorite sight. He guides it to my sopping hollowness and with one hard thrust, that he knows I am wholly enraptured by each time, he sheathes himself inside me all the way, completing me. Rests at the delicate touch of our mounds. “I’m gonna fuck you like you deserve and then I’m gonna take you to church.” 

And he gives it to me. Doesn’t pull out fully, but pounds me into the mattress. One hand gripping my wrists together, the other my jaw—ascertaining that my attention doesn’t fluctuate but remain fixed on him, on the twists of his features, on the guttural moans, his pheromones and his fragrance that trickle out of him and dunk into me while I struggle to take it all. 

“Am I hurting you?” he whispers, kissing my cheek and breathing against it, slowing down his strokes that scramble my brain. The tip of his cock grazes my cervix and I lose, I lose my identity. 

My eyes flutter and he pries my mouth open with his thumb, providing me something to focus on as I intuitively suck on it, keeping my head afloat enough to answer. 

“No, it’s just too big.” 

Hobi hums, rewarding me with a peck on the mouth and the gradual speed of his thrusts. “You can take it, muffin. I know you can. You’ve shown me before.” 

The praise, the belief in me—it all crests in lowest part of my sexuality and again, I edge around the cusp of my orgasm. Beads of perspiration line his forehead, soaking his hairline and he’s a sight to die for, the final piece to the fulfillment of my release. Blush reddens his cheeks, his irises enlarged and digging into mine. He doesn’t falter, continuing with his fast rhythm and I moan out poetry lines that make him squeeze his eyes shut. 

“I’m gonna come for you.” 

He groans. “Uh-huh, come for me, muffin. Give it to me. Show me again how well you can come on my cock. Yes, yes—”

Pluto bursts and ceases to exist. I come so vehemently that my spine arches off the mattress, colliding into Hobi’s chest. I shun out all constellations, all planets, the entire universe collapsing under the weight and gravity of my orgasm and our own marble, green, yellow and white with no one around but us, is called to creation with the bloom of Hobi’s own climax. 

He stuffs me full, my hollowness and my mouth, kissing me so hard that I become dizzy all over again. Moans my pet name as he shoots out his ivory love for me, fucking into me sluggishly while the twitching of his cock enamors me even more. I swallow his voice, swallow his grunts and little curses. My iridescent, entranced spasms caused by his exuberance prolong until I don’t know where my head stands, where my legs are wrapped around or what body part of his my hands clench. 

My savior, my beloved, linked to me for all eternity. 

This must have been our wedding because I shall never be the same again, my mind and my heart swept clean and filled with brand new oxygen. I no longer remember what happened prior to our love-making and when I share that with him, Hobi is possessed with the need to do it all over again. 

And he does, a million times over, until he marries me in the church of our town, with Hyun-Ae and Do-hyun present, mine and his parents and his sister with Mickey. 

A wedding most perfectly extraterrestrial, on our own Hope planet, with nothing hurting, with no thoughts resurfacing. 

Me and my beloved, me and my savior, me and my Sun. 

𓂃 ౨ৎ LOVE-KISSED BABIES: @tkslovechild ,  @jjk7k ,  @parkinglot-nights , @bethvar , @Sexytholland , @yoongibaybee , @crystaleah , @fennecnco, @lil-kpopstan , @euphoricmyth , @jungkoock , @cinmongirl , @hoseokkie-caeks , @kam9404 , @fr0ggieth1nk .

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

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[antianakin]

Pong Krell. It’s universally agreed that he deserved worse than what he got and I get that. I just wished we got to see what he was like before he Fell. Did he always hate clones, was it gradual? Did he suspect something off and went over paranoid?

I’ll say this one and I’ll say this probably a thousand more times but I wished the creators focused on more details with characters. It’s absolutely fascinating that they created a Jedi that Fell but did nothing with it besides outright evil.

How other Jedi reacted to learning that a fellow Jedi betrayed everyone? How did the Republic?

I just wished they did more with him than just, yeah that dude was a dick and killed clones.

Yeah, it's one of the things I don't like as much about TCW, the extremely episodic nature of it means that there really is never any build-up to anything or lasting impact from anything. Unless it's happening within one of the 2-4 episode arcs, we RARELY get to see any kind of build-up or fallout. It's one of the major issues with Barriss, too, we see her ONCE in season 2 and she's calm, kind, methodical, and selfless. And then three seasons later in season 5 she's suddenly ruthless, selfish, doubting everything and everyone, merciless, etc. There is NO BUILD UP to that radical 180 to her character and there's no real exploration of how Ahsoka really feels about that particular betrayal afterwards, the focus in later episodes after the Wrong Jedi focuses only on Ahsoka feeling betrayed by the COUNCIL and her feelings about that. Nothing since TCW has ever touched it either (Rebels, Mandalorian, the Ahsoka show). Satine's death never really comes up again after it happens aside from Bo-Katan being an asshole. Obi-Wan goes from being totally fucked up about Maul coming back to being chill enough to take on Maul and Savage alone and winning without us getting to see him actually deal with those emotions.

Pong Krell and the Umbara arc IN GENERAL falls into this category easily (so do the Zyggeria and the Deception arc tbh). Krell is such a basic evil character, there's so little nuance to him and we never get to see the Jedi react to the revelation that one of their own turned at all. Dooku turned after he had already left the Order as far as any of them really know, but Krell was still IN the Order when he decided to betray them and it would've been really interesting to see the impact of that on them. It would've been ESPECIALLY interesting to explore that more during the Wrong Jedi arc in particular in how the Jedi feel like they can't trust their own people not to betray them anymore after Dooku and Krell.

Krell is presented with like. Zero nuance. He is just unequivocally evil and despite Anakin greeting him in a friendly way at the beginning, the visuals tell you this dude's no good right from his first appearance. There isn't really any chance that he's going to be a good guy at all. So all we are left with are headcanons.

And I remember discussing my Krell headcanons somewhere, but I think it might've been on a Discord server I've since left, so I unfortunately cannot find them again. So I'll try to remember them and immortalize them here, I guess.

Here's the thing about Krell. NO ONE suspects him. So he cannot be overtly acting like a bigoted asshole from the jump at any point, he HAS to be acting in such a way that it's not trickling out to the other clones and to the Jedi themselves that Krell is an absolute monster. Even Fives takes a moment to decide that Krell is suspicious and only brings up Krell's casualty numbers after he sees Krell's behavior for a minute and combines that knowledge with what he's now personally experiencing and is starting to come to conclusions based on that. He doesn't go into the relationship thinking Krell is worse than any other Jedi already.

And based on what we know of EVERY OTHER FALLEN JEDI (Dooku, Anakin, Barriss), they didn't start out as monsters. Dooku was a highly respected Jedi Master who seems to have had a really positive relationship with Yoda and Qui-Gon and simply became disillusioned with the Senate and his care for the people of the galaxy got twisted into something darker over time. Barriss was kind, selfless, compassionate, brave, and resourceful, and it was the war that caused her to start letting her fears and pain consume her into turning on the Jedi. Anakin was kind and spent years having his fears and doubts twisted into selfishness and greed and darkness that allowed him to justify murder and genocide for power. So it wouldn't make sense to me that Pong Krell wouldn't fall into the same pattern where he was once kind and good and selfless and brave, but that the circumstances surrounding the war caused him to lose faith and fall.

My headcanon is that he lost an entire battalion early in the war, much like we see happen to Plo Koon during the Malevolence arc and that that loss and failure just BROKE him. Krell DID care about the clones, he cared about his men, and he FAILED them all. And I think that he saw all of these clones dying by the dozens in all of the other battalions and instead of choosing to let go of his pain and fear and lean into his compassion, he chose to distance himself from them entirely to make it hurt less. If he didn't care about the clones, if he just saw them as the cannon fodder that the Senate treated them all as, then it would hurt less when they died. Maybe the Senate itself even dragged him over the coals for that initial loss. Or perhaps it was the opposite, maybe most of his battalion was killed, but it ultimately ended in a victory anyway because they were forced to just keep going despite the consequences. And so Krell decides to enter this mindset where he is disillusioned with the Senate and just CANNOT allow himself to care about the clones, because it won't change what the Senate is going to do to them anyway, so he may as well just treat them the same way.

And this wouldn't have happened overnight. It wouldn't have been a sudden 180 where he decided he was just going to treat them like shit. But he maybe decided to put some more professional distance between himself and his new battalion, not get close to them, not use their names (although he still knows them, still remembers them all). Maybe one day they're in a tricky situation and all of his options are bad, he HAS to sacrifice some of his men in order to salvage the situation at all, and it's a choice between a full retreat that he KNOWS the Senate won't take well, or sacrificing the men to achieve the victory. So he sacrifices the men. It's not an entire battalion, it's not even a whole company, but it's more than it would've been if he'd retreated. Maybe next time, there's a choice between going back to save some of the men even if it poses a risk to his own life or the mission or something, and he chooses not to go back for them because the mission is more important, or he rationalizes that his life is more important as the Jedi General. And it's just more and more little decisions like that that add up over time to being able to see the clones as nothing more than tools.

The disillusionment with the Senate leads to him sort-of agreeing with things Dooku and the Separatists have said and he can look at the war and realize that it's entirely possible that the Republic is going to LOSE, and he CANNOT be the one who loses again, so maybe he starts bouncing around the concept of maybe switching sides. And of course initially he rejects the idea. He's a Jedi, he won't just abandon the Republic, he can't be a traitor, who in the Separatist side would ever trust him anyway. But once that seed is planted, it doesn't go away and it keeps coming back up and he keeps finding ways to rationalize why it might be a good idea and then deciding not to do it over and over again. Until one day, he can't convince himself that it's a bad idea or that it wouldn't work. He tells himself it's the ONLY option, if he doesn't change sides then he's dead. But Dooku WON'T trust him unless he can prove that he's not on the Republic's side, so he has to come up with a plan to gain their trust. And what better way to earn that trust than to ensure a Separatist victory in an important campaign by double-crossing the Republic.

And once he's chosen to go down that path, it's even EASIER to stop caring about the clones because, well, they're all dead anyway. The Republic is going to lose, the clones are all dead men walking no matter what, so why bother caring about them or trying to keep them alive? He can't lose so often that the Jedi or the Senate become suspicious of him, of course, but it's REALLY easy then to get to Umbara and treat the clones like crap and turn them against each other and intentionally try to get them all killed. They're dead anyway, he's not the one killing them really, is he, the Senate is, the Jedi are, the war is. They were dead from the moment they were created in that test tube because they were created for this specific purpose. It's not his fault.

And much like Barriss turns against the Jedi in part because she did LOVE the Jedi and was devastated by what she saw happening to them and the pain of seeing her people forced to become something they were never supposed to be, as much as her actions were intended as some kind of message to try to sort-of save the Jedi from a course of action she saw as their downfall, I think that Krell turns on the clones because at some point he DID care about them. A lot. And that care became his downfall, the pain at what was being done to them just absolutely gutted him and it threw him down a path that ultimately led him to turn against the very people whose deaths had hurt him so badly just a few short years ago.

Krell might not have been the most effusive or emotional person prior to the war or anything, he might've been a more reserved person similar to Mace or Dooku or Luminara, but I think he probably was a perfectly good Jedi who was kind and selfless and compassionate once upon a time.

And none of the headcanons above have even touched what his relationships with other JEDI must have been like. It's just as possible that he did have friends and people he considered family among the Jedi. Maybe he had a padawan once at some point. And maybe all of those people had died by the time we get to Umbara. Maybe he had to watch a lot of the people he was closest to just fall like flies, and so it starts feeling like nothing matters. Maybe one of the Jedi who died on Geonosis was a former padawan of his, but Krell himself obviously wasn't there and the pain of THAT loss and the guilt he feels at not having been there (even though this padawan had been knighted for a while and there was a good reason Krell wasn't there that day) just sticks with him, too, and he never quite manages to let that go, either.

I think a lot of people choose to just headcanon Krell as having just always been kind-of an asshole even when he was a Jedi, but that doesn't work for me. If Krell was always an asshole, I feel like the Jedi would've stepped in at some point before the war even HAPPENED and tried to manage that situation. And it doesn't match up with the way pretty much every other fallen Jedi has ever been written, where they were GOOD PEOPLE once upon a time who saw awful things happen that they couldn't stop or had an awful thing happen TO them that they couldn't stop and the pain of that experience consumes them to the point that they spiral into darkness as a result. Krell should be the same way, which means he likely was a perfectly good normal Jedi before the war. He would've been kind, he might've been good with younglings (he's tall, maybe he was the one the younglings went to all the time for piggy back rides, maybe he often taught dual wielding to padawans who asked because of how clearly proficient he is at it), he might've taught a student of his own successfully, he would've been wise and selfless and compassionate, he would've loved the Jedi and the people of the galaxy.

Like, to be frank, if Tales of the Jedi HAD to explore a fallen Jedi story, they should've explored Krell instead of Dooku. Dooku has been explored before, we know quite a lot about him and his motivations and his backstory, but Krell, as you noted, is left a mystery and is stuck in the realm of being just purely evil for the sake of the story they were telling in this one arc. Krell needed more nuance in a way Dooku just did not.

[alexanderwales]

The Digital Corpse

I always read about what school shooters or wannabe assassins have to say. I read or at least skim through manifestos, most of which are really poorly written and usually just have badly misunderstood ideas that are copy-pasted from diverse places. I read social media posts and discord logs, where available. Some of this is morbid fascination that I don't endorse, but some of it is the impulse to understand how and why a thing like this happened.

So I've been following the news on Trump's would-be assassin, and to all appearances he was just a kid who was bullied at school and didn't have a lot of hobbies, skills, talents, or friends. He wanted power and control and had no way to get it, and I think there's something to the notion that a lot of white men think that their whiteness or maleness means they're owed something. When Trump came to town, it was opportunity falling into his lap. If you're 20 years old and feeling like the world cares nothing for you, then yeah, I can see why you'd take your shot. It's a way of being famous, of going out with a bang, and young men often feel invincible anyway. The shocking thing is that it almost worked, and that seems to be down to incompetence and complacency.

But if it had worked, and they hadn't immediately shot him to death, he'd have gotten all the worst parts of fame (in addition to what would probably be life in prison). In death he's got intense scrutiny of everything he's ever posted online. There are reports about how sad and lonely he was. If he'd succeeded, maybe there would be some on the left who would idolize him, but as it stands ... I can imagine wanting to be megafamous, but I cannot imagine wanting it to be like this. It was almost certainly different in his imagination though, a grand moment that would give meaning to his life and demonstrate that he did, in fact, have power.

And of course the whole thing will be forgotten in a week or two. A year from now you'll say the name "Thomas Crooks" and people will say "huh, that ... do I know that name?"

On the other side of things, there's Corey Comperatore. He was the other person to die that day, just a random guy who had attended a Trump rally and got hit by a bullet because from one specific angle he was standing behind Trump. If Thomas Crooks left almost nothing behind to make sense of his life, Corey Comperatore left behind what feels like a lot. The fame is more double-edged. He's lauded as a hero by some, even if the only thing he did was catch a stray. Generously, that's a way of making sense of things: just like it's not enough for Crooks to be alienated and dejected, it's not enough for Comperatore to just be someone who was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

But Corey Comperatore is also having his life torn open, or at least the parts of it that he put online. Posting online was something he probably did without thinking too much about it. The worst one, for me, was him saying that the Palestinians would "get over it" like the Japanese did. It's something I think about a lot in the social media age, the picture that people would get if they went looking through all our posts, if they were trying to make a picture of you from the things you've left behind. If you died in a very public way, what's the worst post you've ever made? What would people find ironic? But of course you don't need to die, we're in an era where anyone can get flash famous by random happenstance. And of course in the modern day we want the delicious little morsels, the worst thing you've ever said, the most ironic, most iconic, most infuriating sound bite that can represent a whole person. Anything more anodyne is pointless, even if that's the bulk of someone's life.

I'm probably a little unusual in terms of digital fingerprints. I'm active on discords, I've written some four million words of fiction, and my reddit comment karma is in the six figure range, which probably means that I've got something like fifty thousand comments. I talk a lot. But I do think about being torn apart like that, what would happen if I were famous for a day before the news cycle moved on, if there were hundreds or thousands of people trying to make sense of me.

When I die, if anyone has reason to go snooping through my history, I hope there's a good-looking corpse.

[hannahlovesluca]

Hi! Can I request Luxiem boys(separate) x reader who gets scared very easily and screams when scared? Play the don't scream game live on twitch?

(apologies for my bad English)

(inspired by kubz scout)

-🪻anon

hi 🪻 anon! welcome to the family!

Luxiem Boys + S/O playing “Don’t Scream”

• this motherfucker.

• he will laugh so hard if you scream, but if you’re getting like actually effected he’ll probably make you take a break <3

• probably makes a joke about how you need to go to ike for screamo lessons

• probably adds ike to the call solely because this man is petty as hell

• if you decide to go to the mini market in the game and you get the jump scare where the old man swipes across the screen, he’s most definitely making a lorax joke

• help ive never seen the lorax so i dont know if that context is correct but whatever

• “YOU MOTHERFUCKER JUST LEAVE ME ALOOOOOOONE!! AAAAAAAAGHHHH!!!”

• “HAHAHAGGAHAHAH”

• “DIN JÄVEL GÅ TILLBAKA HELVETET!! AGHHHH!!”

• translation: YOU FUCKER GO BACK TO HELL!

• lots of swears in swedish (from ike… and from me… sorry self insert….again………)

• he genuinely feels bad but also laughs sometimes

• he thinks youre adorable but he also finds it incredibly weird that he thinks someone being terrified for their life is cute…..

• “GÅ KNULLA DIG SJÄLV HAHAH YEAH DU HORA GÅ GRÅTA TILL MAMMA”

• translation: “GO FUCK YOURSELF HAHAH YEAH YOU WHORE GO CRY TO MOMMY”

• you probably end up saying something so bad that he goes limp from laughing and is in tears (literally, not exaggerating)

• and if you have trouble falling asleep that night he’ll make sure to run his hands through your hair and hum to you!

• hes such a dick

• BUT HE SHOULDNT EVEN BE SAYING ANYTHING BECAUSE??? HE GETS SCARED MORE EASILY THAN YOU???

• will literally whimper with you in discord call while youre playing.

• and still has the nerve to call you a baby

• sir?????

• du är en hycklare.

• anyway he most definitely teases you about it

• literally just call him out omg y/n

• ……but its kind of hot when he teases you so you let it happen

• anyway mid game you probably mute him because he’s screaming so loud LMAOO

• this mf is even worse than vox.

• laughing. LAUGHING. MANIACALLY.

• “HOW WAS THAT A SCREAM?! I DIDNT SCREAM OH MY FUCKING GOD!!”

• “HAHAGAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAH”

• will be teasing you left and right

• “y/n…. whats kidamogus backwards…”

• “…luca..”

• “JUST ANSWER IT.”

• WILL SAY “LMAO” WHEN THERES A JUMPSCARE.

• his voice is more of a jumpscare than the game itself oh my lawd

• and um… if youre swedish…

• “AHHHHHHHH KNULLA HUR VAR DET ETT SKRIK? FÖR GUDS SKULL, DET HÄR SPELET KAN TA LIVET AV SIG.”

• anyways, if you’re seriously seriously scared to the point where you need comfort he is coming ASAP.

• and he brings snuggles <3

• is still teasing you, though

• he’ll giggle at you every now and then

• but overall he just thinks its cute and amusing

• and if you squeal out a curse his heart is just going to 💥💥💥

• i genuinely dont even know what else to add…. he just giggles at you a lot 😭😭

• will occasionally make a ligma joke if things are too quiet (almost the whole game since you have to be pretty much silent LMAOO)

• he’ll probably send messages in your chat even though hes in call with you

• Shu Yamino [NIJISANJI EN] 🔧: guys what do i do they’re so focused

[sillylittlepluto]

About Nevermore (Talking about how I was on this group)

Hello! My sincere apologies if my English is bad and if what I say doesn't make sense. English is not my first language. Whatsoever, i hope you all understand that everything i say here, will only be a rant to how i am feeling right now, sad, scared, uncomfortable and shocked.

I was one of the victims from this case, and I'm sorry if I made a lot of stuff wrong. I didn't knew Red was going to expose me, and all the people who got on this group.

The thing is: We only joined because we wanted to talk about women! Since you guys know, talking about stuff that in the "simping corner" was not much recommended to say.

(I'm not covering Crimson's name cus..u know)

Anyway,this was "the sun before the storm", and everything we said,was only to talk about Annabel,how we hated Montessor, how we loved Lennabel and Dolly..

After we created the group, we talked about women, and stuff. It was all like a dream, I found my people! I now can talk about them and they would understand me!

I unfortunately do not have more prints,unless some that were us talking with Crimson,

(This was us talking to him,and speaking about Annabel)

And, by my experience,when I was talking to them, crimson went too far once, and it was when I got a bit uncomfortable with the whole situation.

(also,thanks to Laci, I got those prints, showing a bit on how I was when this happened.)

I was even thinking about getting out of the group, but.. If i did, I wouldn't have people to chat randomly about characters anymore, people who wouldn't judge if I said about how pretty Annabel was or stuff like that..

Now, before I say more stuff about it, I have to apologize again, sorry for everything I did, I understand I am the victim, although I have guilt about not thinking twice, about not pushing myself to stay on the group, even though I was a bit uncomfortable with the sexual stuff..

I, am now 13. Finally able to fit on the discord terms, I've been in discord since 2020, and I know about all the rules,the terms and how horrible this place is. In 2021/2022 I stopped using discord,so I came back in 2023/2024 because of Nevermore. Believing that I could find a safe server and not be judged about anything.

Which looks like it happened. I can't believe Red did this,and I got both shocked and sad when I heard that Flynn was agreeing with her.

Crimson teach me some stuff,that I didn't even know it was tracing, but this is clearly not the bad part of it, the bad part, is that I trusted him, I liked his drawings....

I am not taking this nevermore break because I don't think I..Can? I got too emotionally dependant on this webcomic and I love it dearly. It got me into literature, history, geography and it even made me get interested about stuff that my mom liked...

This webcomic gave me some happiness when I got sad about my favorite tv series like Amphibia and The owl house, fandoms whom got totally forgotten..

Once again,I hope RnF realize that they did was wrong, and that the apology didn't solve anything. People only got even more mad and angry at them..

[heartsteel-heartbeats]

fellow kayn appreciator hi!!!! love how you write him :D could i please request platonic headcanons or like. general thoughts on how kayn would be as a friend to a gn!reader? whether they're also a performer or not is up to you but specifically they'd have met before kayn joined heartsteel. thank you and i hope life treats you kindly!! 💕

Platonic Kayn HCs

Reader is a performer, Pre-Heartsteel

(( I don’t think you guys actually know what you do to me whenever you compliment the way I write Kayn it has me doing the Markiplier “yippee! wahoo!! yeeee!!” )) ~ OBBY 💗

Being friends with Kayn includes lots of text messages from him. Sometimes you two text each other for hours, other times he has to run cause he’s busy. If you text him before he does after he says he has to do something, you’ll probably be speaking to Rhaast. There’s a 50/50 chance that he’ll stay and chat for a while or he’ll say he can’t chat cause he’s still working.

Sometimes he doesn’t get back to you for a few days. If you’re lucky, he’ll message you within hours. If it is taking him a few days, there’s a good chance you may need to check up on him. Sometimes he loses himself when he’s too focused on working.

On some nights, you two video call on Discord while you’re both working. You may or may not end up getting sidetracked by playing a video game together. FPS, horror, or survival horror. So games like Left 4 Dead, Dying Light, Lethal Company, and even Halo are up there. As long as there’s co-op, you’ll be playing. Sometimes, one of you will share your screen so the other can watch. Games like The Mortuary Assistant, Resident Evil, Alien: Isolation, and Outlast are pretty good.

Going to each other’s concerts isn’t always a guarantee, but both of you try. Not to mention, the paparazzi will be annoying to deal with once people start to realize one of you is at the other’s concert.

Kayn’s not against introducing you to Akali. There’s a good chance she’s heard of you and probably listens to some of your works, so it’s a win. And so, you, Kayn, and Akali are all in a group chat where you just kinda laugh at some hate comments each of you get. It’s especially funny when the thread just keeps going with people arguing. It’s very tempting to go and leave a comment in the argument just to see how it’d go, especially since Kayn would actually try to get you and Akali to say something. Luckily neither of you actually did it. Imagine the articles and posts on social media that would be made about it…

Since this is before Kayn joined Heartsteel, Kayn does sometimes send you some of his works. You know, the ones that were never made public. He knows you accept both him and Rhaast, so think of it as his appreciation for it. Sometimes Rhaast sends ones that Kayn didn’t send yet, but in return, he wants a sneak peek at one of your own.

On that topic, you’ve kept up to date with what his old band has been up to, both before and after he was no longer a part of it. It wasn’t on purpose, it just shows up on your recommended time to time. There was some discourse, and then after Kayn was no longer there, things seemed to take a bit of a turn for the worst for both him and the band. The band was struggling and Kayn’s reputation crashed. Him not releasing his songs to the public didn’t help, but he had his reasons for that. You were in no position to pry, so all you can really do is continue supporting him.

The idea for a collab was always up there even if you’re running solo or not, but it never actually happens because Kayn and Rhaast always have drafts piled up. Rhaast just thinks it’d be pretty fun to do. But seriously, they do need to finish up their own works. A collab is the last thing he needs to add to his list right now.

Sometimes invites you to liven up an alley he found, or a wall in an abandoned building. If you have an idea for his idea, say it. He knows if you’ve got something in mind anyway, so it’d be better to just say it because he’d pester you about it. You’ll probably even notice he brings a little sketchbook sometimes. Also, those spray paints were totally not Akali’s. If you have paint as well, he’ll be taking those too. If you find some missing, you know who to interrogate. Don’t expect him to admit it though.

If you’re the one inviting him, he doesn’t mind if he just watches or pitches in an idea or two. Knowing him, he won’t always just sit and watch. He also doesn’t want you holding back on your artistic ability, so please, go all out and experiment if you have to. Not giving it your all, especially in front of him, is almost insulting to him.

Do you guys get caught? Maybe sometimes. The chase is always fun though. Well, maybe not all the time, but you can still look back at the memory and laugh a bit.

Kayn has one or two of your songs in his little private playlist. Will he ever tell you? Nope.

Sometimes the media goes overboard with your relationship with him. It’d be nice to debunk all of their theories and speculations, but Kayn insisted you let them go at it cause it’s funny. Admittedly, it was. Every small thing was “a hint.” There are some that take some “signs” differently and start wars between both of your fans. Still rather entertaining, but it did feel more concerning. Some fans can be pretty crazy. Usually, those little wars fix themselves within a few weeks if you’re lucky. Maybe months.

If it does come to it, Kayn won’t stop you from posting something in response to hopefully calm things down. Hell, he might even make a post himself. His wording might be a bit aggressive though.

[psuedosugu]

thinking about suguru with a siren reader…

notes: this has been in my drafts for a hot hot minute and i hope yall see my vision also i made a discord server that you guys should join 😊

- the job of a siren was a simple one. sing your melody, entrance the captain just enough so that they would crash the ship, and done.

you never felt any guilt for what you did. these men were trespassers, after all, littering and casting their nets in your sea. sometimes you wonder how one could be so inconsiderate.

one particular night, the sea swirled around you, your only source of light being the stars twinkling and the fire that had started on the now crashed ship, impaled by a sharp rock. men jumped off of the slowly sinking wreck, soon drowning in the harsh, cold water. you watched from a distance, with a sense of pride in your chest—

and then you spotted something. or someone, for that matter. he was young, couldn’t be older than 20, with long dark hair. you weren’t exactly sure of what about him caught your eye so fast, but you were enthralled.

you swam closer to the burning ship, desperate to get a closer look. he had a look of terror in his eyes, debating on whether to jump or not. as the fire spread more and more, he realized he had no choice, bracing himself and leaping into the dark mass of water.

you freeze, unsure of what to do. you’re supposed to leave him alone, to let him face his watery grave. he brought it onto himself, anyways, and direct interaction with humans is forbidden in the pod, lest you be captured and their cover blown, but….

you sigh, swimming to where the nearly unconscious man bobbed above and below the water and propelling to the nearest land available, a remote island just a few miles away. once you arrive, you plop him exhaustedly onto the sand.

“hello? hellooooo? are you dead? i hope you’re not dead, that means i dragged you out here for nothing. helloooo??” suguru wakes up to the sound of your voice and the feeling of your damp hand lightly slapping him on the cheek.

he’s…..relaxed at first. your voice was like a symphony, a contrast with your harsh words. it made him feel so warm…

and then he remembered. crash. fire. sinking. and the deep, dark cold.

he sits up with such fervor that you flinch, shifting slightly away. “where…what- what happened? they’re- they’re all dead, aren’t they? oh god- oh god, oh god, oh god oh god oh god-“ he mutters under his voice, hyperventilating. you sit there, indifferent to his panic.

“um….are you…okay?” you asked. he darts his eyes towards you. you were beautiful, with looks that were almost hypnotic. hen his eyes darted down to your tail, shiny and greenish. he shifted back, not completely sure if he was hallucinating or not.

“…what- what are you?” he stammered out with wide eyes. you shrug. “you know, i was more expecting a ‘thank you for saving my life,’ but thats a fine enough reaction, i guess,” you said matter-of-factly, with a somewhat amused smirk on your face.

“no- i, i need to get back, i-“ you eye him. “well, there isn’t much land close to over here sooo…id say your chances of being rescued are pretty slim.” you shrug. his eyes are wide, not believing what was happening. this was a dream. this was a dream and he would wake up any minute now, right? but the sand underneath him, and the soft breeze hitting his face felt all too real.

“….well?” you frowned, folding your arms. “you gonna do anything other than looking shellshocked?” humans are boring, you realized. you two sat there in uncomfortable silence for a few more seconds before you turned around to leave. the pod would start looking for you soon, after all, but then—

“wait!” you paused at the mans voice. “don’t go yet.”

“….why?”

he hesitated. “how does that….thing work?” he asked, pointing to your tail. you shrugged in response, “same as a fish, id suppose.”

“what’s your name?”

“[name]. yours?”

“suguru.”

—and then marked the start of a strange routine. you’d sneak out to go visit suguru when you could. he fed on wild fruits and berries, keeping himself alive. sometimes you’d bring him some food yourself.

you liked how he reacted to things. he was unique, a new specimen for you to observe, and as the almost complete isolation started to drive him mad, you turned into the anchor he clung on.

[gamerbunny1996]

Anxiety

Sitting at your computer you are about to start a stream with a few others. One being Schlatt. You get so excited every time you guys get to do a stream together. You're always so shy though, having a hard time talking to him sometimes. Starting the live you do your intro waiting for all the fans to pile in.

Seeing everyone in discord you jumped in. “Hello y/n” Ted said in a sing-song voice. “Hi,” you said back. “So what we have planned you just told me to join in discord” swagger said. Jackmanifold jumped in “I thought of doing a big you laugh you lose live stream” you smile at his excitement. “The rules are different then my normal ones. This time we have to make each other laugh” he said.

“I don't think I've ever heard y/n laugh,” Schlatt said. “Really I hear it all the time,” Ted replied to schlatt. “I bet it's an ugly laugh that's why she never laughs in front of me” you were shocked by his words he never talks bad about you ever even in a joking manner. “I don't think I do,” you tried to argue. “Then why have I never heard it then” he asked. “Ummmm… I don't really know maybe because you're not that funny” you kinda lied at the end you find him hilarious but you're always so shy and quiet he probably just never noticed you laughing at him. “That's a lie and you know it,” he said. “Alright you two let's start the challenge before the live goes on too long” Jack butted in. “I have a wheel here of all are names and who ever it lands on has to try and make the rest of us laugh”

You start to get nervous you don't even know where to begin on making people laugh you only know dark jokes. “Alright let's see who it's going to be” Jack spun the wheel. It goes around a few times until it lands on your name. Of course, just your luck. “Well I'm not good at this,” you said. “Just try, I know you can do it,” Ted said to you. “Okay I'm sorry for any jokes I speak. What's a depressed kid's favorite thing to do” you asked. Everyone said what. “They like just hanging around,” you said, trying not to laugh at yourself. All their eyes widened. “That was dark,” swagger said. “Yeah I only know dark jokes” you said trying to hide your face in embarrassment. “You need so much help mentally” Schlatt said.

The game went on and you just kinda stayed quiet the wheel has yet to land on you again. Thankfully. You wanted to die from the amount of embarrassment you are feeling. “Y/n you have yet to laugh come on there has to be something to make you laugh” Jack said. “I should just go, I'm just embarrassing myself more and more” you go to the end stream and discord. “Ha pussy” you heard schlatt say right when you hit the end call. Why was this upsetting you so much? You tell dark jokes all the time and you never have a problem other than people questioning your sanity. Like just hearing schlatt make rude comments to you and not finding your stupid joke funny now leaving because you just couldn't laugh. Everything started to get overwhelming.

A notification happened on discord you go look who's it from. Ted's name came on screen asking if I'm okay. “I don't know just some reason my anxiety is hitting hard after I told that joke” you send to Ted. It didn't take long for him to reply “that's weird it was a pretty funny joke even if it was dark.” He replied back to you. Smiling to yourself makes you feel better. “Weird question” you send

“What?” he replied. “Do you know why Schlatt is being so mean he is never this mean to me” you send scared he will poke at you for asking about schlatt. “No I don't. Why do you ask anyway” he replied. Scared you didn't know how to reply.

You put your fingers on the keys and started to type away just to get it over with. “Well, how do I put this? I really like Schlatt a lot and he was always so nice to me and mean to others I thought maybe he liked me too or something I don't really know” you hesitated to send. Taking a deep breath you sent it. It felt like forever for Ted to reply back. “Aw, how cute. I wish I could help but I don't even know Schlatt can be very private sometimes but you're right it's weird how all of a sudden he just starts to be mean to you. He hasn't said anything about you since you left.” He replied to you.

Starting to tear up from frustration and emotions. You don't really understand why you're feeling this way. Just wanting him to like you back. You decide to take a break on live streams and social media maybe it's your anxiety taking over. “I think I'm taking a break from everything for a little bit. My anxiety is going crazy and I need a few weeks to myself and maybe try and figure out this whole Schlatt thing” you sent to Ted. Taking a deep breath you start to shut everything down and leaving discord up to see when Ted replies back. Waiting for him you start to write a little letter for all your fans so they know you're taking a break for a few weeks. Posting it on all social media he sighs out looking back up at your monitor. “Please take a break if you need it. We will talk everyday you're gonna keep me updated on your little crush, life got it” you can almost hear him say this in a sassy voice making you laugh a little to yourself.

Closing discord you turn off the whole computer and monitors. Getting up you walk into the bathroom ready for a nice shower. Hoping to calm your thoughts. Right before you step in you hear you phone go off. Checking it to see who texted you.

Schlatt❤️: Why did you leave the stream today?

Toots: my anxiety got to much

Schlatt❤️: you want to talk about it?

Toots: Not really

Schlatt❤️: well I'm here if you want to talk

Toots:okay :l

You turned your phone off and hopped into the shower. Feeling the hot water poor over you. Enjoying the warmth your head went to your message just barely with schlatt. Why does he care all of a sudden? This is so strange it's making you upset. Turning off the water you got out. Drying off you looked at your phone. You wanted to see if schlatt replied. You wanted to text him so bad to come over so you could hug him and cry. You wanted to do so much but just couldn't do it.

Getting dressed you grabbed your phone and went into your room. Sitting on your bed you finally decided to turn your phone on to see if he texted back.

Schlatt❤️: I think you do

Taking a deep breath you turned your phone off leaving him on read. What do you say at this point? That you're in love with him and you want to hug and kiss him to make everything better. Soon your phone went off again.

Schlatt ❤️: don't leave me on read

You smile at that. But you still couldn't text him. It just felt so wrong.

Schlatt❤️:y/n

Schlatt❤️:toots

Schlatt❤️: dumbass answer me

Soon your phone started to ring. He was calling you. Panicking, you threw the phone. Thankfully It landed at the end of the bed. It went silent. Sighing in relief. You went to grab your phone but it started to ring again. You decide to just get it over with and answer the call. Before you could say hello Schlatt started yelling at you. “What the hell you kept leaving me on read then didn't answer the call. You should be ashamed. I'm trying to me a nice friend and you do this what the hell is going on” tearing up you broke down crying feeling bad for being so mean to Schlatt. “Oh wait don't cry sorry didn't mean to yell at you please calm down” he started to freak out not knowing what to do.

“You…. So…. Mean….stream” you cry out only a few words. Barely being able to breathe from all the crying. It just wouldn't stop no matter how hard you try. “Oh I'm so sorry I didn't mean to be I was just joking around please stop crying” you sniffled out finally being able to calm down a little. Once you can breathe again and only tears fall once in a while, you speak. “I'm sorry I don't really know what wrong my emotions are all over the place my anxiety is hitting pretty hard” you try to explain but leaving the part out of you just want to date the man. “It's okay, is there any reason why your anxiety is so bad?” he tried to help but he just can not know. “No” is all you said. “You want me to come over and we can watch a movie to distract you” your eyes widen. Staying silent you had no idea how to answer. Finally you just agreed. “Perfect I'll be over in 15 minutes or so” he hung up the phone. Now what are you going to do? Your crush coming over your face is a mess from crying so hard. Getting up you grab a few blankets and head to the living room. Placing them on the couch you go put some popcorn in the microwave. Waiting for it you pull out your popcorn bowl and some salt. Once it was done you pulled it out and poured it into the bowl. Putting salt all over it. Taking it to the living room you place it down on the coffee table. Turning on your TV you waited for Schlatt to come. You started to bounce your knee. Anxiety taking over your body. You were so lost in thought you didn't realize the door knocking. After a few seconds you snap out of it and went to answer the door.

Schlatt stood there with two bags. Letting him in. “I brought snacks and drinks,” he said, placing the bags on the table. “That was nice of you” you told him. He sat on the couch patting the seat next to him. He walks over sitting next to him as far as you can without him noticing. He did notice and didn't like it so he grabbed you shoulder and dragged you into his side. Laying a blanket over the both of you he turned on your favorite movie. Your eyes widen from shock that he remembered your favorite movie. You grabbed the bag of snacks and seen it had all your favorites. Looking at Schlatt on shock. “What?” He asked lifting and eyebrow. “You remembered all my favorite stuff” you said to him. “Yeah of course why wouldn't I” he said. “I don't know just people don't usually remember these things about me” you told. “Well I remembered” he said. A smile grew on your face. “thank you,for everything your so sweet to me” I told him. “Yeah well maybe that's because I like you” your eyes grew wide. You didn't know what to say or do just stare at him in shock. He just rolled his eyes smashing his lips into yours. You relaxed a little and kissed back. Pulling away you buried your face into his chest embarrassed. You can feel him laugh a little. Smiling to yourself you spoke into his chest. “I like you too” feeling him wrap his arm around you. “I know” is all he said. Looking up at him “how” he smiled at you. “You are way more obvious than you think you are '' blushing you turn to the TV trying to hide your face from him. He pulled you close to him. You enjoyed being so close to him. This was exactly what you wanted.

[isackwhy]

ok ok, let me cook, let me on the fryer. so drunk driving stream (your girl got carried away, lacked details my bad bestie boo). isaacwhy, big t goat, and yumi. i’m talking giggles GALORE. i’m talking isaac appearance on readers stream? i’m talking, accidental hard launch? on stream? drunk? again, my apologies for lack of detail in the last four or so worded suggestion, lots of love 😘

anon. ily.

isaacwhy x drunk driving stream! reader hc’s

u last minute agreed to a drunk driving stream w 2 of ur best friends yumi and big t while ur bf isaac was at ur place

usually he’d be the third in this trio but u kidnapped him

you’re more than half a four loko down. isaac is a full four loko down. sitting on discord on his phone in ur living room so that chat doesn’t know he’s at ur place

(even tho they all have a suspicion about yall)

“no, no!” you drunkenly yell as your truck spins around on the highway

tanner and yumi are giggling their asses off, watching your truck flip to the side

you take another gulp of ur drink, gagging at the taste

“y/n, you’re a fucking moron!” yumi laughs

you gasp, and look into your webcam

it’s only then when u realize how drunk u look

“holy shit. oh. i’m so drunk,” you mumble as u repair ur truck

“really? couldn’t tell—“

“tanner i’ll—i’ll—kill u,” u stutter

“y/n, stop drinking,” isaac says

“ummm fuck u,” u giggle, downing another gulp

“y/nnnnn!” isaac yells. also drunk.

“come ‘ere. come into—the room,” you slur, not even realizing you’ve uncovered that isaac is in your house

“huh? are you sure?” isaac asks but you can hear him getting up

“oh god she’s getting isaac. oh god,” yumi groans

“k—y—s,” you spell out slowly, making tanner burst out laughing

isaac walks in and his tall ass is covered so u don’t worry about ur webcam

“hiii isaac,” you smile up at him. a part of u is conscious about ur secret relationship to teh viewers while another part is very drunk and wanting your boyfriend like rn

“hii y/n,” isaac smirks down at u, “i think you’re good on the drinks.”

you groan, gulping down more four loko, “you CANNOTTT tell me what to do.”

“oh no. they’re in trouble—OH SHIT I CRASHED,” tanner yells into the mic.

you glance over at chat, seeing your ship name w isaac being spammed and u hide ur eye roll

“you’re drunk too,” u point at ur boyfriend but realize ur vision has gone blurry

“not like you,” isaac laughs. the webcam can see from his chest down as he crosses his arms in his tank top

ur going bonkers

“i—need to pee. i think,” u get up but u stumble. isaac holds out his hands for you and you try and stabilize urself

“you okay?” isaac laughs, holding you

“i’m great!” you quickly saying, stepping away from him

you take three steps away from him, nearly fall until he catches you and all you can do is giggle

isaac is just looking down at you with a small smile, “okay, stream. over. come on—“

“no!!! wait till i get back baby.”

yeah u don’t even realize what u said bc ur just staring up at isaac with a fond smile while isaac has the widest eyes and ur chat has increased in speed

u can faintly hear yumi and tanner yelling

“what?” you ask with a head tilt, “i gotta—pee,@ u say still clueless, “entertain chat!” u say as u walk away, still oblivious

isaac stands there, stunned that you called him baby on stream. subsequently exposing your relationship

it was gonna happen at some point but he wasn’t expecting it while ur both drunk

“chat—chat. um,” he stands awkwardly until u come back

u stumble back in, still clueless while ur bf looks borderline horrified

“y/n, end stream please,” isaac grabs your shoulders

“hm? wha—okay,” you walk over, “guys i’m too drunk according to isaac so i’m gonna end….”

ur eyes fall on ur chat and the word baby and isaac and y/n are dating being spammed

oh fuckkkkkkkkkkkkkkk

u whip ur head towards isaac when you realize what you did

“okay—yup! bye chat!” and you quickly end stream.

once u know ur in the clear, ur head falls your hands, “fuck. i’m sorry babe.”

“it’s okay. you’re drunk. it was gonna happen because we’re both dumbasses at some point,” isaac assures u.

you put ur headset back on and yumi and tanner are too drunk to help you so you turn the whole pc off and slam into your bed, face first into the pillows

“i’m staying off twitter for like—ever,” you mumble into the pillow

“eh. we have a lot less weirdos. you’ll be alright,” isaac rubs your back

[elysianymph]

🔥 anything about sirius because i am being a little hater towards some characterisations too

i've already talked your ears off about this on discord but i'm happy to talk to about it again bc i fucking HATE new sirius black with a burning passion. i hate him as much as i love my sirius black that marauderstok can pry from my cold dead hands bc i'm not letting him go. i don't know when it happened and why but marauders fans are particularly persistent on taking away any interesting traits sirius had and leaving behind a whimpering pathetic twink that cries when someone looks at him the wrong way. sirius has been scrubbed clean of any morally grey traits he might've had (he's not allowed to care for his family (unless it's regulus) or long for them bc they are bad, he's not allowed to have any prejudices even though he was literally raised with pureblood mentality and taught he was superior to everyone else from the day he was born, he's not allowed to be an asshole bc he's not like his family guys!! and when he is an asshole it's always used to victimize the character he's being an asshole to and sirius is painted as the villain with mommy issues that can only be fixed by getting dicked down apparently)

i cannot stress this enough: LET THIS MAN BE A COMPLEX CHARACTER!! and no, giving him mental illnesses that miraculously disappear when he gets together with remus and making him attempt to kill himself post prank because he feels bad is NOT making him complex! you're just weird. you're just romanticizing mental illnesses and i can't believe you don't see anything wrong with it. giving him bipolar to justify his actions is?? not??? representation??? it's offensive to people who actually have to deal with these issues in their day to day lives and yet here you are using something that will impact their life forever as a plot device for your uwu sadboy mlm fanfic.

and that's what new sirius boils down to. he's a plot device, an accessory to everyone else's story that's never given much depth other than "oh his mom used the cruciatus on him and now he's traumatized". no hate to jegulus but hate to specific jegulus fics that turn sirius into an overdramatic caricature of his former self for the sake of drama and angst.

also, some of these wolfstar shippers... wtf are you guys on?? idk when and why (that's a lie i do but i'm not gonna say it) remus became sirius black in a werewolf costume but here we are. oh sirius was cool and effortlessly smart and handsome and girls wanted him? well guess what? snatches all of those character traits and throws them onto remus they're his character traits now. ignore how it doesn't make any sense for the werewolf child who was isolated from the rest of the world to be a smooth talking alpha casanova who plays basketball actually. while we're at it, ignore how unrealistic it is for a boy who was raised in a family that believed they were superior to everyone else based on blood status, who was raised to be the perfect heir and checked off all the traits needed to be one to be insecure?? and unsure of himself?? and stupid??? and a loser??? i don't understand what the point of flipping the wolfstar dynamic was when you're left with a shallow copy of the original but ok. you do you ig.

to summarize, my sirius is cool and effortlessly smart and egotistical and a complete asshole who thinks he's the best thing ever. is it an act to cover up how damaged he thinks he is because of his family? possibly. but i also fully believe sirius thought he was a god amongst men and everyone should be glad to be in his presence. he talked down to other people because he considered himself smarter, he rolled his eyes when students asked stupid questions and made fun of them when they got an answer wrong. he's a teenage boy let him be a dick with no excuses.

(also i find it funny when people write about sirius getting into a fight with james or remus and crying because they said something mean. as if sirius wouldn't throw hands the moment someone started criticizing him. he's toxic and that's what makes him interesting. that's his purpose! characters exist to make stories interesting, to start drama, not to be your moral guide on how to act. stories become so much more fun once you let go of the need to make every character a good person. also liking a character doesn't equal liking them as a person. i love sirius but i would hate his guts irl)