#Viles dream team

[stealurheartsandiego]

Paperstar is taking the photo.

[duncanor]

I will genuinely never understand dream stans whining about any other community being mean to them when I remember being in technotwt in april 2021 and seeing their community commit the most desgusting shit ever constantly. Sending gore in DMs, death threats, doxxing, body shaming on selfie days.. Constant harrassement really..

Only slowing down once Techno announced he was diagnosed with cancer. And I say slowing down, not stopping.

And then they have the audacity to act like they are an innocent community, victims truly? Because folks don't like their groomer of a guy..??

When their own CC said shit like this, when their own CC invited vitriol and doxxing toward anyone (mostly smaller accounts) who dared criticize him.. (Bitzel comes to mind but let's not forget the iconic Ballslover32)..

I've not been in the mcyt online space for a while now but this is truly laughable to see..

Hey people who are mad at Tommy right now for his video, saying that he’s making light of the doxxing that your community experienced. I have some Amazing reassurance for you, straight from the Green Boy’s mouth back in April ‘22

Yeah, anyone else remember that little gem?

[beomiracles]

⌞ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍 ⌝

DREAM RECALL ⸝⸝ Despite everything, he’s still crying. Shiny droplets rolling down his cheeks almost rhythmically as he pants under you. — Your stomach twists as your attention falls on the dark hues adorning his neck and collarbone. Not only had he fucked her, he’d let her do that to him as well, and he came home wearing it, like some fucking souvenir. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⸝⸝

wc -> 2.6k

pairings non idol!yeonjun x fem!reader warnings infidelity, cheater!yeonjun, hurt no comfort, angst, yeonjun cries a lot, handjob, unprotected sex + pullout, meandom!reader, sub!yeonjun, pathetic/desperate yeonjun, nipple play, slapping, degrading, use of "whore", implied marking, big time sad.

#serene adds ✎ I wasn't planning on writing this today but you know the saying of "striking when the iron is hot", well yeah it was practically on fire so I kind of had to. this is not proofread in the slightest oops.

Your usually cozy and warm bedroom feels dark and distant. The air is cold and it causes goosebumps to rise on the naked skin of your arms. Low and hushed sobs fill the dense atmosphere as Yeonjun huddles by your feet. — It was an almost pitiful sight, seeing his disheveled hair, the fat droplets of tears that rolled down his flushed cheeks, bottom lip quivering as he gulped down a breath of air. 

But you did not pity him. In fact, you think you might even hate him. Because when you regard his pathetic frame, trembling hands clawing at the hem of your skirt as his wet face leaves damp spots on the fabric, you feel nothing but disgust. His touch no longer felt warm, nor did it feel comforting. It felt foreign, dirty and tainted with something else, someone else. 

“Please, p-please baby it wasn’t like that!” 

He pleads and he pleads, fingers curling around the flimsy cotton as he tugs himself closer, shuffling on the floor beneath you. A vile grimace darkens your expression as you peer down at him with disdain. — “Get off of me.” 

Yeonjun’s eyes snap up to yours, they’re wide and terrified as he shakes his head. “B-Baby please, you have to believe me!” — Believe him? What an ironic thought indeed. Time and time again, you had believed him, told yourself that you were overreacting, that you were being delusional, that you were a bad girlfriend. You believed him when he told you not to worry about the late nights he worked, about the sudden business meetings, about the team dinners; about the nights you spent alone in bed, foolishly waiting for someone you thought longed to get home to you. 

With the small kick off your heel to his stomach, Yeonjun tumbles back, landing on his ass with a thud and he blinks up at you with teary eyes. “Believe you?” You huff, pulling out your phone as you wave the device in front of him. “Is this what you want me to believe? That this was intended for me, and not that colleague of yours?” 

You watch as his dilated pupils practically explode when they land on the hotel reservation being presented before him, and he audibly swallows. He knows that he’s gotten caught, yet he still tries to lie his way out of it. — It hurts. Not only because he cheated. But because it wasn’t with just anyone. She was special. Yeonjun had never looked at you like that, not once during the three years in which you had been together, the three years in which you had done everything for him. 

Tears threaten to spill down your cheeks and you draw in a shaky breath. He wouldn’t get to see you cry, not anymore and never again. 

“Let’s end things.” 

The statement shouldn’t have taken him by surprise but it seems to have as Yeonjun feebly shakes his head, a loud sob ripping from his throat. “No!” He wails, immediately crawling back to wrap his arms around your legs, pressing his cheek flat against your thighs as he resumes his pitiful crying. — You want to push him off, tell him that he’s disgusting and that you want nothing more to do with him. 

“P-Please..” His voice is hushed, jagged and ruined by him choking on his own tears, “i-it was a mistake I s-swear! I would n-never do that to y-you, I- I love you!” By the end he sounds almost strained, high-pitched and desperate as he clings to you. — Love. What a pathetic emotion. If this was love then you didn’t want it. 

“Do you think shit will be okay just because you said that?” You seethe, fingers curling into fists by your sides as you fight off the urge to kick him off once more. Yeonjun doesn’t say anything, merely hugging himself closer as he cries into your skirt, biting back whimpers as he snivels. — “Do you think I'll forgive you? That I’ll kiss you and tell you that everything is fine?” 

He hiccups at your words, shaking his head shamefully as his fingers twist against the smooth fabric of your clothes. “Is that what you want?” You ask, your voice suddenly shifting into an eerily calm one, but Yeonjun doesn’t seem to pick up on the change as he continues to sob. — “Answer me.” Your demand makes his head jerk up and he hesitates for only a second before he nods, biting his swollen bottom lip carefully. With a small huff you avert your gaze, taking a step back as you shrug him off once more. 

Then you kneel down, the rich carpet is soft under your bare legs and you regard your boyfriend with a look of fabricated sympathy. Yeonjun on the other hand looks wary as he awkwardly swallows, his gaze flitting between your eyes nervously as he exhales. — He lets out a noise of surprise when you suddenly cup his cheek, leaning in to press a small kiss against his wobbling lips. Though he quickly falls into your embrace as he lets your tongue dwell deep inside his waiting mouth, gliding along his own as he whimpers. 

It didn’t feel the same. It wasn’t the same. And you hated it. 

With a small hiss you withdraw, making him look at you with an alarmed expression as he tries to speak, though no words come out. — “On the bed.” Is all you say, your voice suddenly cold and demanding. The subtle shift makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand and Yeonjun scrambles to his feet as he hurries for the bed, gingerly plopping down on the mattress. 

You’re quick to follow behind, looming over his uncertain figure as you study him closely. “Undress.” — “W-What?” His question makes you groan and you reach for the collar of his shirt, yanking the first few buttons open. “This is what you wanted, no? For things to go back to normal, for me to say that it’s all okay.” 

He parts his lips but remains silent, slowly nodding as his hands raise to resume the work you’d started on his sweater. — Once the garment falls from his shoulders, you push him back, making yourself comfortable on his lap as you straddle him. He looks confused, but there’s an undeniable glimmer of hope flickering behind his eyes as you reach for your own blouse, slowly pulling it over your head. 

“You want to pretend like nothing’s ever happened?” You wonder as you lean forward, the tip of your finger resting on his chin and Yeonjun nods. He was so used to you complying, used to you believing him, he had grown comfortable with your naivety. And now you were paying the price for it. — “Yeah? You want to pretend like you never fucked that woman?” — His face falls at the statement and he immediately objects, just like you had expected him to. “Baby I didn’t I swear, it’s a misunderstanding you have to believe-” 

Smack! 

The slap echoes through the air and Yeonjun’s rant immediately cuts short as his eyes blow wide. Your hand stings but you ignore it, instead focusing on the red mark blooming across his cheek, satisfaction beating within your chest. — “You fucking liar.” Your voice is close to breaking but you don’t care. Thumb and index finger digging into his cheeks as he tries shaking his head, as he tries denying the blatant truth once more. 

Tears spill from his eyes yet again, his nose becoming stuffed as he fights to inhale through it. You pay him little mind, your hand wandering down his stomach until you reach the hem of his pants. A final glance his way shows that he’s both anticipating and fearful of your next move, his body squirming under you as he tries to make sense of the situation. 

He gasps when your fingers wrap around his semi-erect cock, working quickly to get him hard as you pull back to spit on your hand. “Probably won’t be as good as your previous fuck I fear”, you mutter as your thumb rubs his tip harshly, making him whine as his hips buck. — The wet streaks on his cheek have yet to stop and he continues to sob, mindlessly shaking his head as small hiccups of “no’s” and “wasn’t like that”, leaves his lips. 

“No I bet it wasn’t”, you drawl, pulling him from his briefs as you lean back to work your hand along his throbbing cock. “I bet it was just a mistake”, you sigh, slowing down momentarily as your gaze shifts to his face. Yeonjun’s eyes are wide as he stares up at the ceiling, short pants passing his parted lips and his face is puffy and red from crying. — “Was it?” You repeat your question, and it makes his head lull forward as he nods. 

“Y-Yes! W-Was a m-mistake!” He breathes, chest heaving as he tries to win you over, tries to win you back. You have to bite back the insults already waiting on your tongue as you regard his pathetic attempts at showing remorse. “And you’re sorry?” — The hand on his cock has almost completely stopped now and Yeonjun writhers uncomfortably under you as he nods feebly. “Y-Yes, I’m s-sorry, please baby!” He chokes the words out between his tears.  

It was tempting to give in, to believe him, just like you always did. The thought of falling back into your old habit of ignorant bliss, of unawareness and your life in the dark.. It scared you more than anything. You refused to become that person once more. You refused to put up with the shit that Yeonjun would make you endure, all because you wanted to be a good girlfriend. That obviously wasn’t enough. 

Instead you lift your skirt up, instructing him to hold it for you as you slide your panties to the side, drawing a lazy finger across your unenthusiastic cunt. Yeonjun practically whimpers at the sight of you touching yourself before him, cock twitching as it demands attention. But you can’t muster another feeling besides disgust. Bet he couldn’t wait to fuck the next thing that as much as moved. 

He emits a strangled moan as you slide down on him, nestling him between your legs just like you had so many times before. Except everything was different today. — His hands are on your hips as he tugs you forward, desperate for you to meet his eager thrusts as he buries himself deep inside of your tight and burning core. 

Despite everything, he’s still crying. Shiny droplets rolling down his cheeks almost rhythmically as he pants under you. — Your stomach twists as your attention falls on the dark hues adorning his neck and collarbone. Not only had he fucked her, he’d let her do that to him as well, and he came home wearing it, like some fucking souvenir. 

“What a fucking whore.” You mutter, nails scraping across the marks and Yeonjun whimpers at the contact to the sensitive skin. There was no denying his actions now, he knew it too, lip trembling as he followed your lingering gaze. — “A liar and a whore, what else are you?” Your pace is slow as you grind against him, feeling his cock twitch with every clench of your cunt around him. He doesn’t answer, the only sounds he emits are wailing cries and whimpers as he loses himself in a guilt-ridden state of ecstasy. 

“Do you like it? Do you like being covered in the filth of another woman?” You practically yell, making him whimper as he shakes his head, breath catching in his throat as he fumbles for words. — Biting the inside of your cheek, you let your hands splay across his chest, not bothering to leave any marks of your own, you didn’t want him to have a single piece of you left. Instead your focus shifts to his perked nipples, fingers coming up to play with the sensitive buds as Yeonjun arches off the mattress with a weak moan. 

“Disgusting fucking whore”, you grit, fighting off the tears as you increased your pace on him, hips snapping against his. “Doesn't matter who it is as long as you get your dick wet.” — He’s stopped trying to object, merely accepting his fate as he sobs out into the dark room, his hands on your hips trembling as he tries pulling you closer. 

“Get your hands off of me”, you grunt, prying him from your body before your fingers reattach themselves around his nipples, pulling and twisting them as you gauge his reaction. Yeonjun whines as his head falls back against the pillow, drool forming in the corner of his mouth before it slowly rolls down the side of his chin. “Mhhn, p-please baby..” He mumbles, his expression dazed as he struggles to see straight. 

Unbelievable. He still had the nerve to ask such a thing. “You’re funny if you honestly think I’m going to let you come anywhere near me, let alone inside”, you spit, watching as his brows draw together in a confused frown, fingers twisting in the bed sheets as he swallows a small wail. 

His cock continues to twitch inside of you and with a quiet huff you pull off, to which Yeonjun groans as his hips buck in an attempt to chase after you. — It felt good, seeing him like this, completely worn out and spent before you. His hair standing in all directions, body glistening in a sheer layer of sweat, his cheeks red and puffed as they lay coated in his tears. It didn’t matter that he’d cheated, because even if he did, you were the one who got to see him like this, you were the one who made him like this. 

Your hand returns to stroke him, relishing in the way he caught his bottom lip between his teeth to muffle the noises he’d previously been letting out so shamelessly. And when he comes you let it splatter across his stomach, adding to the filth and dirt already covering him as he cries in your grasp. But you didn’t take pity on him, not once. Because when did he ever take pity on you? 

As his breathing evens out, his cock softening, and his tears gradually subsiding, Yeonjun finally lifts his gaze to look at you. His expression is best described as hopeful. He still thinks he’s got you wrapped around his finger. He still thinks that you’ll forgive him for everything he’s done. — But you won’t.

“Get out.” 

He looks surprised, startled even, adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. “What?” He croaks, his voice hoarse as he props himself up on his elbows. You frown, eyes boring into his, “I said get out, did you not hear me?” — “We’re over, Yeonjun.” 

Just as you thought he would finally stop crying, does his tears resurface. You wondered why he cried. Because he surely wasn’t mourning the loss of you, he’d made that very clear the second he got in another woman’s bed. You don’t care for his tears, not anymore. You don’t care for him anymore. And even if Yeonjun did care about you, in his own twisted and fucked up way, it was far too late now, he knew that too. 

The bedroom door shuts minutes later and you’re left alone, just as alone as you had been all those nights without him. It didn’t feel much different, and you wondered why you hadn’t done this sooner.

taglist ✎.. @lunesdesire @jjklvr9 @beomies-world @hyukaaa @ninoshome1 @gardnhee @babymochibeargyu @lunathewritingcat @duckywuckypookiepie @naoristerling @oddracha @soohashits @junimoa03 @sendhelpiloveyeonjun @beomtasticc @gudboibeomgyu @flowzel @hwanghyunjinismybae @inkigayocamman @sthwaaberry @izzyy-stuff @silentisle @itaehynz @blossommi @sunghxxnie @unknowzzn

(if your tag is not working please check your settings to make sure that your blog is not hidden!)

→ want to get notified whenever a new dream is published? join my TAGLIST ᰔ © all rights reserved ─ @beomiracles 2024

[jinxhallows]

KINKTOBER 2023 || jinxhallows

starting team: Christopher Bang, Minho Lee, Jisung Han, Hyunjin Hwang & Changbin Seo

question - why are you only writing about five members?

I’m really excited to bring this project to you guys, as I’ve been so deeply supported by members of this community and truly, you guys deserve for all of your wildest dreams to come true. I look forward to spending the month of October with you.✨ non-image banners by @cafekitsune

the fine print: entries are not daily. not all entries have plot. entries will be posted at midnight in eastern standard time the day they are scheduled to drop. entries vary in length. please read warnings. please google what you do not know. order subject to change but likely will not. i don't require a taglist, but if you enjoy it and want to be alerted to any future postings, please leave a comment, even if its member specific.

October 1st entry #oo1 | costume party (knife play) | lino October 3rd entry #oo2 | accident (watersports) | birthday boy chan October 4th entry #oo3 | my turn (role reversal) | jisung October 6th entry #oo4 | busted (mutual masturbation/voyeurism) | changbin October 8th entry #oo5 | soles (feet kink) | hyunjin October 9th entry #oo6 | vile (humiliation/degradation) | lino October 11th entry #oo7 | interview (distraction) | jisung October 13th entry #oo8 | the doctor is in (medical play) | chan October 14th entry #oo9 | cat got your tongue? (asphyxia) | lino October 16th

entry #o10 | leave it off (hair pulling) | changbin October 17th entry #o11 | midnight (somnophilia) | jisung October 19th entry #o12 | collared (pet play) | chan

October 20th entry #o13 | mine (spitting) | changbin

October 21st entry #o14 | sauna (sweat kink) | hyunjin October 22nd entry #o15 | hello from the other side (phone sex) | jisung

October 23rd entry #o16 | ne sonim (uniform kink) | lino

October 26th entry #o19 | glory (praise kink) | chan

October 27th entry #o20 | landscapes (sex tape/camera) | hyunjin

October 29th entry #o22 | baecation (bed sharing) | chan x reader x lino x reader's bestfriend

October 31st entry #o23 |

[emjayewrites]

fouled by fate • aurelien tchouameni (6/10)

SYNOPSIS: Aurélien Tchouaméni, one of football’s rising stars, is used to navigating the pressures of the pitch—but nothing could prepare him for an arranged marriage. With his family’s legacy and cultural traditions at stake, Aurélien reluctantly agrees to marry a woman he barely knows. But as they’re thrust into the public eye, sparks fly in unexpected ways. The two must navigate the complexities of love, duty, and fame, all while figuring out if they’re playing on the same team—or if their hearts are destined for different paths.

PAIRINGS: Aurélien Tchouaméni x Zuri Awanto Nchang (faceclaim Samira Ahmed @/iamsamiira)

WARNINGS: cursing, football b.s., dry humor/wit, slight arguing, friends to lovers, instant attraction, angst, eventual smut (18+/minors dni)

TAGLIST: @trenterprise @f1-football-fiend @lettersofgold @hopefulromantic1 @deonn-jaelle @vile-harlot @perfecttrashface @2serenity0 @saturnville @planetmimi @muglermami @shepgurl @sucredreamer @julescpu @tchouathon @greyishbach @shelovesfootie @certifiedlesbianbaddie @trinitoldyouso @lottins-only

A/N: Please let me know if you want to be removed from the tag list Thank you again for your love and appreciation!

Thursday arrived with a palpable sense of anticipation. Aurélien stood in his bedroom, adjusting his crisp white shirt and traditional Bamileke-patterned vest. The house was about to be filled with both his and Zuri's families, a thought that brought both excitement and a touch of anxiety.

He glanced at the newly arranged sleeping arrangements. Their parents and siblings would be taking over the pool house and extra rooms, while Zuri would be moving into his bedroom loft. The idea of sharing such an intimate space with her sent a thrill through him, memories of those vivid dreams flooding back. Aurélien took a deep breath, reminding himself to keep things in check. Having Zuri so close would make things harder - both literally and figuratively - but he was determined to behave himself with their families under the same roof.

"Get it together, man," he muttered to himself, sucking his teeth, willing his body to cooperate with his mind's decision. But, as usual, when it came to Zuri, his dick responded, swelling at the thought.

Merde.

Exhaling a vexed breath, he adjusted his crotch, forcing himself to think of the most disgusting things to quell his arousal. Eventually, he made his way downstairs, and Zuri was a vision in a matching Bamileke print dress, her hair styled in an elegant braided updo adorned with traditional beads. As their eyes met, Aurélien felt his breath catch. She looked stunning.

"You ready for this?" he asked, joining her by the front door.

Zuri nodded, a mix of nervousness and excitement in her eyes. "As I'll ever be."

From his dog bed in the corner, Zeus watched curiously, although he was more interested in the bone Aurélien had given him than the impending ceremony.

The sound of cars pulling up outside signaled the arrival of their families, and they straightened their posture, standing side-by-side on the path. The first to arrive were Aurélien's parents, Fernand and Josette, dressed in elaborate traditional attire. They were followed by a small procession of his family members, including his siblings, each carrying beautifully wrapped gifts and baskets filled with symbolic items. Then, it was Zuri's family - her father, Ernest, a woman he assumed was her mother, and another man, perhaps her brother.

To Aurélien's surprise, he spotted two elderly men among the group, their presence commanding respect. He leaned in close to Zuri, whispering, "Aren't those the elders from Cameroon?"

Zuri's eyes widened in recognition. "Yeah, Elder Nkeng and Elder Fotsing. I can't believe they made the trip."

Fuck, as if things couldn't get more complicated.

As the group assembled on the front lawn, the sound of traditional Bamileke music filled the air, drums and flutes creating a festive atmosphere. Aurélien's father, Fernand, stepped forward, holding a ceremonial staff.

He knocked on the door three times, his voice strong and clear as he called out, "We are the Tchouaméni family, come to seek the hand of your daughter for our son, Aurélien."

Zuri's father, Ernest, walked up behind Fernand, standing next to Aurélien and Zuri before responding, "And who is this son you speak of? What qualities does he possess that make him worthy of our daughter?"

Aurélien felt his cheeks warm as his father began to list his accomplishments and qualities. Zuri squeezed his hand, a small smile playing on her lips.

The back-and-forth continued, a dance of words steeped in tradition. Gifts were presented, their symbolic meanings explained. A bottle of palm wine, representing unity. Kola nuts, symbolizing respect and acceptance.

As the ceremony progressed, Aurélien found himself drawn into the beauty of it all. He glanced at Zuri, seeing the emotion in her eyes as their families came together in this ancient ritual.

"You okay?" he murmured, his thumb tracing circles on the back of her hand.

Zuri nodded, her voice soft. "Yeah, it's just… more overwhelming than I expected."

Elder Nkeng stepped forward, his weathered hands raised in blessing. "May these two families be joined in love and prosperity," he intoned in Bamum, his words translated by Aurélien to Zuri.

As the Nkap Nkong ceremony drew to a close, with handshakes and hugs exchanged, Aurélien felt a sense of peace settle over him. This was just the beginning of their journey together, but somehow, it felt right.

Until it didn't.

Inside, the house was transformed. Traditional Bamileke fabrics adorned the walls, their vibrant patterns bringing warmth to the space. The air was filled with the scent of African spices and flowers, creating an atmosphere both festive and intimate. The living room buzzed with activity, family members from both sides mingling, their voices creating a cheerful cacophony.

Zuri gave her parents, Amina and Ernest, and her brother, Malik, a quick tour of the house. Meanwhile, Aurélien found himself cornered by his own family.

"So, big brother," Yannis, Aurélien's younger sibling, teased, "how's married life treating you?"

Aurélien rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "We're not married yet, Yannis."

"But you will be soon enough," Yannis quipped with a grin.

Anne-Maïsha leaned in conspiratorially. "But seriously, how much do you like her? Is it just like or like-like?"

A smirk played on Aurélien's lips. "Like," he said simply.

Anne-Maïsha's eyes sparkled. "So, like-like. Understood."

As Zuri and her family returned to the living room, caterers bustled around offering refreshments. The elders cleared their throats, signaling the start of the La Dot ceremony - the negotiation and completion of the bride price.

Ernest stepped forward, his expression stern. "Now, about compensation for raising such a fine daughter..."

Aurélien felt his jaw clench as Ernest launched into a tirade about wanting a new car. It took all of his self-control not to cuss the man out right there. Zuri squeezed his hand, their eyes meeting in a look that spoke volumes. Taking a deep breath, Aurélien settled for rolling his eyes.

"With all due respect," Aurélien interrupted, his voice tight, "a new car isn't happening. However, I understand Zuri's mother has been wanting to remodel the kitchen. I'd be happy to cover those costs. Or perhaps we could put money towards student loan debt?"

Ernest sucked his teeth, clearly displeased. "I raised her and her brother well, spent money on them. I need to be compensated to some degree."

Murmurs of disapproval rippled through Aurélien's family members.

Zuri's grandmother, Mamie Adzoa, spoke up. "Perhaps we could do something extra special for Zuri instead? What would you like, ma chérie?"

All eyes turned to Zuri. Aurélien smirked, already loving her grandmother.

"Uh... I'm really grateful for everything already," Zuri said, looking a bit overwhelmed.

"Oh! So humble," noted one of Aurélien's cousins, making Zuri smile.

"Maybe we could donate to something or someone? Pay it forward," Zuri suggested.

Aurélien nodded approvingly. "What a giving fiancée I have," he joked, earning chuckles even from the elders. "So that's settled then, yeah?" Aurélien said, his tone making it clear it wasn't really a question. He fixed Ernest with a firm look.

The giving of the bride price commenced. Aurélien presented plans for Zuri's grandmother's new house, drawn up by his architect. He handed over the official notice for the cattle to her uncle. Then, with a nod to his mother, Josette brought forward several beautifully wrapped boxes. Zuri opened them to reveal an array of stunning jewelry - Van Cleef & Arpels pieces, including a bracelet matching Aurélien's own, Cartier items, and a pair of diamond studs.

Zuri's eyes widened in amazement. She threw her arms around Aurélien, hugging him tightly. "Thank you," she whispered.

"You're welcome, ma belle," Aurélien responded, planting a kiss on her head.

"Oh, they're in love already," Mamie Adzoa stated, causing Aurélien to chuckle.

As Zuri turned to show her grandmother and mother the beautiful pieces, Aurélien's gaze fell on Malik, Zuri's brother. A scowl marred Malik's features as he shook his head slightly. Aurélien made a mental note to talk to him later, sensing the need to clear the air.

Despite the underlying tension, as Aurélien watched Zuri's excitement, he felt a warmth spread through his chest. This moment - seeing Zuri happy - made all the complications worth it.

__________________________________________________________

As the evening progressed, the families gathered for a simple dinner. During dessert, some of the men stepped outside, and Aurélien saw his chance to talk with Malik.

"Hey," Aurélien said, approaching Zuri's brother. "Got a minute? I wanted to talk about Zuri."

Malik nodded, his expression guarded. They moved to a quieter spot in the garden.

Aurélien began, "I know this situation isn't ideal, but I want you to know that I have Zuri's best interests at heart."

"Look," Malik replied, "I'm worried about Zuri. She's sensitive, a people pleaser. Especially with our father. She bends over backwards for people, and I don't want to see her get used."

Aurélien nodded, understanding. "I get it. But I want you to know, I won't do that to her. I truly appreciate Zuri for who she is."

Malik laughed, a hint of skepticism in his voice. "Maybe Mamie was right. You are in love."

Aurélien shook his head. "We're trying to see the silver lining in this situation. Making an effort to date each other. We've even talked about pushing the wedding date back a bit."

Malik's eyes widened at this, and he kissed his teeth. "You're something else, Aurélien, but I don't mind you."

Aurélien extended his hand, which Malik shook before pulling him into a bro hug. Leaning close, Malik whispered, "If you hurt my sister, I'll kill you. Understand?"

"Understood," Aurélien replied, nodding. He respected Malik's protectiveness, knowing he'd do the same if it were Anne-Maïsha in this situation.

"Aurélien!" Fernand called them over, handing Aurélien a cigar. "Nous célébrons tes fiançailles, fils," (We're celebrating your engagement, son) he said.

"Papa, anglais s'il te plaît," (Dad, English please) Aurélien responded, nodding towards Malik.

To his surprise, Malik responded in French, his accent not nearly as bad as Zuri's, "Ne t'inquiète pas, je comprends." (Don't worry, I understand.)

Confused, Aurélien blurted in English, "Wait, you speak French? Why doesn't Zuri?"

Ernest, joining them, provided the explanation. "Elle est pourrie gâtée," (She's spoiled rotten) he said, lighting his cigar. "We never pushed her to learn."

The glow from the cigar illuminated Ernest's still scowling face, and Aurélien felt his own expression sour. He recalled Zuri's stories about her father's behavior, the pressure she felt. His first instinct was to be polite – this was his fiancée's father, after all – but he knew that after this weekend, he'd need to be on high alert to protect Zuri from any potential bullshit.

As the men talked and smoked, Ernest continued to make snide comments. "She always took the easy way out," he muttered. "No discipline, that one."

Aurélien bit his tongue, reminding himself that this was temporary.

Suddenly, one of Zuri's cousins – Aurélien wasn't sure if her name was Adzoa or Akua – called out, "Venez danser!" (Come dance!)

Malik sucked his teeth. "Ah non, pas la danse," (Oh no, not dancing) he groaned.

As they headed back inside, Aurélien saw Zuri standing awkwardly in a circle, her female cousins dancing around her, performing traditional Cameroonian moves, however, she looked so lost.

Turning to Malik, Aurélien asked, "She doesn't know how to do this?"

Malik shook his head almost sadly.

What the fuck? Aurélien wondered why her parents had taught her brother about their customs but not her. Well, he was here to teach her now. He danced into the circle, taking Zuri's hand and spinning her around. Her giggles filled the air, and Aurélien found himself grinning, enjoying the sound of her laughter.

As the music pulsed through the room, Aurélien pulled Zuri closer, his hand resting lightly on her waist. "Follow my lead," he murmured, guiding her through the steps of a traditional Bamileke dance.

At first, Zuri was hesitant, her movements unsure. But as Aurélien continued to lead, she began to relax, her body swaying more naturally to the rhythm. He spun her out, then back into his arms, delighting in the way her eyes lit up with excitement.

"You're a natural," he said, loud enough for only her to hear.

As they moved together, the energy in the room seemed to shift. Family members began to gather around, clapping and cheering. Suddenly, one of Aurélien's uncles let out a loud, trilling yodel - a traditional Bamileke cry of celebration. The sound reverberated through the room, and soon others joined in, their voices rising and falling in a joyous cacophony.

Zuri looked startled for a moment, then broke into a wide grin. "What is that?" she asked, breathless from dancing.

"It's called 'nkuh'," Aurélien explained. "It's how we show approval and joy."

As if on cue, another round of nkuh filled the air, this time led by Zuri's grandmother. Aurélien saw tears glistening in the old woman's eyes as she watched her granddaughter embrace her heritage.

Feeling emboldened, Aurélien dipped Zuri low, earning another round of cheers and nkuh from the crowd. As he pulled her back up, their faces were close, breaths mingling.

"Thank you," Zuri whispered, her eyes locked on his.

"Anytime, ZuZu."

_____________________________________________________________

Zuri rolled her eyes as her father's grumbling about the car situation continued.

Seriously, Dad? Let it go already.

His pettiness was threatening to turn her engagement weekend into an episode of "Real Housewives of Cameroon." She made a mental note to give him the cold shoulder if he kept this up. This was supposed to be her time to shine, dammit, not a showcase for her father's world-class sulking skills.

After what felt like a million goodbyes (how many cousins did she have, anyway?), Zuri and Aurélien finally escaped the family circus. As they bid goodnight to their parents and siblings, Zuri couldn't help but think, Freedom at last.

Alone in the bathroom, Zuri began her nighttime routine. She carefully removed her makeup, cleaned her face, unbraided her hair, and wrapped it in her bonnet. After a quick shower and changing into her new pajamas (because God forbid she wears her ratty old t-shirt to bed with Mr. Soccer Superstar), a wave of nervousness hit her.

Sharing a bed with Aurélien. No big deal. Totally chill.

Taking a deep breath that did absolutely nothing to calm her nerves, Zuri flicked off the bathroom light and padded into the bedroom. And there he was, sitting up in bed, his phone casting a soft glow on his features. The t-shirt he'd worn earlier was discarded, leaving his broad, muscled chest on proud display. Zuri felt her mouth go dry at the sight.

Zeus, sprawled next to Aurélien like he owned the place, but Aurélien, ever the gentleman, shooed the dog to his bed. Zeus huffed dramatically as he complied, giving Zuri a stink eye that rivaled her father's.

"Hey," Aurélien said softly, his voice doing things to Zuri's insides. "You okay?"

Am I okay? I'm about to share a bed with a Greek god, but sure, I'm totally fine. "Yeah," Zuri managed, suddenly feeling self-conscious. "Just... been a long day."

As she approached the bed, Zuri's mind raced. What now? Do I jump in? Slide in gracefully? Is there a protocol for getting into bed with your arranged fiancé?

But as Aurélien smiled at her, warm and reassuring, some of her nervousness melted away. His eyes followed her intently, his gaze trailing over her silk pajamas. Zuri felt a flutter in her stomach. Sure, they'd shared kisses and some pretty heated makeout sessions, but sleeping together? That was a whole new ballgame.

As she slid under the covers, she couldn't help but admire Aurélien's muscled chest, his dark chocolate skin practically glowing in the dim light.

Focus, Zuri. Don't be a creep.

"You look pretty," Aurélien murmured, his hand reaching out to lightly touch the hem of her pajama top. Zuri's breath caught in her throat.

Trying to settle in, Zuri cleared her throat. "So, what's next on this whirlwind engagement tour?"

They chatted about the upcoming lunch with their families, more blessings from the elders, and Saturday's official engagement ceremony that Josette had planned.

"I'm a little nervous about how it'll turn out," Zuri admitted. "But your mom seems to have good taste. I like your family."

Aurélien nodded. "My family likes you too. I also like your family," he said, then added with a smirk, "Well, except for your dad. Still want to punch him in the mouth."

Zuri couldn't help but laugh. "I can't believe he and your dad were schoolmates. They seem so different."

"Yeah, my old man pushes me, but at least he respects my choices," Aurélien mused.

Zuri sighed. "My father never has. This arranged marriage might be the last thing he controls in my life."

As they decided to call it a night, Zuri turned onto her side, her back to Aurélien. Suddenly, she felt the bed shift and a strong arm wrapped securely around her waist, Aurélien's body pressing against her back.

"Aurél?" she whispered, her heart racing.

"Hmm?"

"What-what are you doing?"

"Cuddling with my fiancée," he replied nonchalantly, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Zuri, meanwhile, was on the verge of a panic attack from the sheer closeness. Willing her horniness to take a backseat, she gulped and turned to face him. His face, visible even in the darkness, held a smug smirk.

"I can't cuddle with you now?" he asked innocently.

"No, no, it's not that… uh… we're alone," she stammered.

"I know. What's wrong, ZuZu?"

"Aurélien, you're literally pressed up against me. How am I supposed to sleep?"

"By closing your eyes, ma chérie," he responded, his snark game strong as ever.

"Ugh, goodnight," she grumbled, turning back around, only to feel Aurélien cuddle closer, tightening his arms around her waist.

I fucking hate him, she thought. Oh, be so for real, you like him too much to hate him, her traitorous mind replied.

And she did. Too bad she liked him too much to fall asleep easily, especially with him wrapped around her like a muscular, irresistible blanket.

The blaring alarm jolted Zuri awake, her body stiff and her mind foggy. Aurélien, meanwhile, was dead to the world, snoring softly beside her.

She hadn't slept well, not with Aurélien pressed up against her all night. And now? Well, let's just say she could feel every inch of his morning… enthusiasm.

Jesus, Mary, and Beyoncé, give me strength, she thought, desperately wishing for an ice-cold shower.

Stumbling to the bathroom, Zuri attempted to wrangle her hair into something resembling togetherness. Her bonnet had staged a revolt overnight, leaving her looking like she'd been electrocuted.

Heading downstairs, she was surprised to find Josette already up and dressed, chatting with a stylish woman in the living room.

"Ah, Zuri!" Josette called out. "Come meet Maria, your wedding planner."

Wedding planner? When did that happen? Zuri thought as she plastered on a smile and shook Maria's hand. The backyard was already a hive of activity, with Maria directing the setup for the Nhon Nkou - the family union lunch.

"Oh, before I forget," Josette said, pressing a small, elegantly wrapped package into Zuri's hands. "A little something for you, dear."

"Thank you," Zuri managed, touched by the gesture. Is this what having a normal mother-in-law feels like?

"Zuri!" Her father's voice cut through the moment like a knife. And we're back to reality.

Ernest strode into the kitchen, nodding curtly at Josette before pulling Zuri aside. "We need to talk about that car," he hissed.

Oh for fuck's sake, Zuri thought, resisting the urge to bang her head against the nearest wall.

"Listen," Ernest began, his voice low and insistent, "you need to convince Aurélien about the car. It's the least he can do, considering he's getting you. Tell him it's important to me, that it would mean a lot to your father."

Zuri fought the urge to roll her eyes. "Papa, I really don't think—"

"Just do it, Zuri," he cut her off. "Use that charm of yours. You've always been good at getting what you want."

As her father continued his spiel, Zuri felt her anger rising. This was beyond selfishness, bordering on narcissism. Here they were, in the middle of engagement ceremonies, her entire life uprooted, and he was fixated on a fucking car?

"Enough," Zuri snapped, her patience finally breaking. "This is crazy, Papa. I'm not asking Aurélien for a car."

Ernest's face darkened, and he stalked closer, backing Zuri against the kitchen counter. "You'll do the right thing, Zuri," he growled, his voice low and menacing.

Suddenly, Aurélien's voice cut through the tension. "ZuZu? What the hell are you doing near my fiancée?"

He pushed Ernest aside, positioning himself between them.

Ernest snarled, "Mind your business, Aurélien. She is not yet your wife."

Aurélien sucked his teeth, turning to Zuri. "ZuZu? What's going on?"

Zuri took a deep breath, her eyes never leaving her father's face. "He wants me to convince you to buy him a car. Says it's the least you can do since you're 'getting me'," she explained, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Aurélien's jaw clenched. "Mr. Awanto Nchang, I've already said no to the car. If you can't respect our choices, you're welcome to leave our home."

Ernest's finger jabbed towards Aurélien's chest, but before he could speak, Fernand entered the kitchen.

"Step back from my son and Zuri, Ernest," Fernand said, his voice calm but firm.

Fuming, Ernest complied, but not before issuing a final threat to Zuri. "If this marriage falls apart, you have no home in New York." With that, he stalked out.

Aurélien turned to Zuri, his hands gently caressing her arms. "Are you okay, ma chérie?"

Zuri nodded, a newfound resolve in her eyes. "If he wants to act like that, good riddance. I'm done with his bullshit." She stood on her tiptoes, placing a chaste kiss on Aurélien's lips. "The makeup artist and hairstylist should be here soon. I need to get ready for the lunch."

As Zuri left the kitchen, her head held high, Aurélien and Fernand exchanged a look of admiration. This woman was stronger than anyone had given her credit for, and Aurélien felt a surge of pride.

Zuri made her way to the study where the hairstylist and makeup artist had just arrived. As they began working their magic, she felt a mix of emotions coursing through her - adrenaline from finally standing up to her father, pride in her newfound strength, and a twinge of sadness at his parting words.

Who knew it would take an arranged marriage for me to finally tell him to fuck off? she thought wryly.

New York had been her home, but Madrid was her future. And if things didn't work out with Aurélien? Well, she'd cross that bridge if she came to it. For now, she was relishing in her newfound freedom.

The hairstylist worked diligently, weaving fabric and cowrie shells into an intricate updo that celebrated both tradition and modernity. When it was done, Zuri retreated to the adjoining bathroom to slip into her dress.

The gown was a masterpiece of delicate embroidery, its pale gold fabric shimmering with every movement. Instead of the bold patterns of ankara, this dress featured subtle motifs inspired by Bamileke art, creating a look that was both elegant and culturally significant.

As Zuri emerged, putting the finishing touches on her outfit, she caught sight of Aurélien greeting their families in the foyer. He cut a striking figure in his ndop, the rich, intricately embroidered fabric of the traditional Bamileke robe making him look regal and powerful. The matching hat perched atop his head completed the look, making him appear every inch the Cameroonian prince.

For a moment, Zuri forgot to breathe. Despite the drama and the uncertainty, she couldn't deny that Aurélien looked… well, damn. As their eyes met across the room, a small smile played on his lips, and Zuri felt a flutter in her stomach.

Aurélien sauntered over, his eyes doing that slow once-over thing that made her want to check if her dress was still on. "You look beautiful, ma chérie," he murmured, planting a kiss on her temple that sent tingles all the way to her toes.

"You clean up pretty well yourself," Zuri quipped, praying her voice didn't betray how his touch made her feel like a teenager with a crush.

They made their way to the backyard, navigating the sea of relatives like it was a particularly chatty obstacle course. The garden had been transformed into a vibrant celebration space, with colorful fabrics draped over tables and traditional Bamileke decorations adorning every surface.

Elder Nkeng, looking like he'd stepped straight out of a history book, gathered them in the center of the space. The crowd fell silent, probably holding their collective breath to see if Zuri would trip over her dress or something equally embarrassing.

"May the spirits of our ancestors smile upon this union," Elder Nkeng said in Bamum, his voice carrying across the yard.

"He's asking our ancestors to bless us," Aurélien whispered in her ear, his breath tickling her neck. "And hoping we don't fuck this up too badly."

Zuri bit back a laugh, trying to look appropriately solemn as the other elders joined in, their voices rising in a chant that sounded like a cross between a lullaby and a football cheer.

As the blessings wrapped up, the feast kicked off. Tables groaned under the weight of traditional Cameroonian dishes - ndolé, fufu, jollof rice, and more. The smell alone was enough to make Zuri's mouth water.

Looking around at her new extended family, Zuri felt a weird sense of belonging she hadn't expected. Despite being Americanized as all hell, she'd never felt more connected to her heritage than right here, right now. And doing it all with Aurélien by her side? Well, that was just the icing on the cake.

As she watched him charm the pants off her aunties (not literally, thank God), Zuri couldn't help but feel a surge of... something. Gratitude? Affection? Whatever it was, it made her think that maybe this whole arranged marriage thing wasn't the total disaster she'd feared.

Aurélien couldn't take his eyes off Zuri. He wanted to fuck his fiancée so badly it hurt. Between her looking beyond beautiful in her cultural attire and those sexy-as-fuck pajamas that teased him mercilessly at night, he was struggling to keep his sexual frustration in check. And don't even get him started on how hot it was when she told off her father yesterday evening. Sheesh. He was enamored, down bad… whatever you want to call it.

Today was Saturday - their Ntchounke (traditional engagement ceremony). All his friends and teammates had been invited weeks ago. His mother had worked tirelessly putting it all together, and he couldn't wait to see the finished product.

This weekend had brought him and Zuri closer than he'd imagined. He was itching for some alone time with her tomorrow. For the sake of their family sleeping under their roof, he hadn't dared go beyond cuddling or a simple kiss to her temple, and even those innocent gestures seemed to make his situation worse.

And now, looking at her in that floor-length gown of rich, royal blue fabric, its bodice adorned with intricate gold embroidery featuring traditional Bamileke patterns… Aurélien felt his mouth go dry. The dress hugged her curves perfectly, its modern silhouette balanced beautifully with traditional elements. The striking atoghu crown hat atop her head, decorated with blue and gold beads, made her look like royalty.

His own regal toghu matched her dress perfectly, the same royal blue fabric embroidered with bold, geometric patterns in gold. His nkwa'' cap and the ceremonial feather fan he carried completed the look. As they sat side by side, their matching outfits created a visually stunning and deeply symbolic representation of their union.

In the car on the way to La Quinta de Jarama, Aurélien couldn't stop stealing glances at Zuri. "You okay?" he asked, his hand finding hers.

"Yes," she replied, squeezing his hand.

When they arrived, Zuri's jaw dropped. The venue was a perfect blend of boho chic and traditional flair, with an explosion of flowers in reds, yellows, and greens. "Oh my god," she breathed, then turned to engulf Josette in a hug. "Thank you so much. It's beautiful."

They stood together as they greeted their guests and when his friends and teammates finally arrived, he immediately centered himself, mentally preparing for all of the teasing.

Camavinga approached, whistling appreciatively. "Looking good, you two!"

"Not so bad yourself, Cama," Zuri replied with a wink. "Loving the suit."

Jude and Lila weren't far behind. "Oh my god, you guys look amazing!" Lila gushed, admiring their outfits.

"Seriously," Jude agreed. "You're putting the rest of us to shame."

Rodrygo, Vini Jr., and Kylian sauntered over, identical mischievous grins on their faces.

"So, Tchouaméni," Vini started, "how does it feel to be officially off the market?"

"Better watch out," Kylian added, "or we'll all be next."

Aurélien rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "Like I've escaped a terrible fate," he joked, earning a playful swat from Zuri.

Then came Jules Koundé, Aurélien's best friend. Jules looked sharp in a tailored suit, his locs styled impeccably. "So this is the famous Zuri," Jules said with a grin.

Before he could respond, a shrill scream cut through the air from his fiancée. Aurélien and Jules raised their eyebrows as Zuri took off running (as much as her dress allowed) towards a stunning woman in a black dress.

"Putain," Jules muttered in French. "Son amie est carrément canon." (Fuck. Her friend is fine as fuck.)

Aurélien elbowed him in the ribs as Zuri dragged her friend over. "Guys, this is my best friend, Senait," Zuri said, beaming. "Senait, this is Aurélien and his friend Jules."

"Enchanté," Jules said, his most charming smile in place. Aurélien fought the urge to roll his eyes.

Unfortunately for Jules, Senait didn't pay him not a once of attention. "So you're the one who's stolen my Zuri away," Senait said, eyeing Aurélien with a mix of curiosity and amusement.

"Guilty as charged," Aurélien replied, feeling suddenly self-conscious under her scrutiny.

Before the conversation could continue, the sound of drums filled the air. A group of traditional Bamileke dancers emerged, their colorful costumes a blur of motion as they moved to the rhythmic beat.

"Holy shit," Zuri breathed, her eyes wide with wonder. "Is this part of the ceremony?"

Aurélien nodded, leaning in close to be heard over the music. "Oh, yeah, just wait, it gets better."

As if on cue, Elder Nkeng appeared, gesturing for Aurélien and Zuri to join him. The crowd parted, creating a path for them.

"What's happening?" Zuri whispered, a hint of nervousness in her voice.

"Trust me," Aurélien murmured, taking her hand and leading her towards the elder.

Elder Nkeng smiled warmly at them, producing a length of beautifully woven cloth. "This symbolizes the binding of your lives," he explained in Bamum, Aurélien translating for Zuri.

With practiced movements, the elder began to tie their hands together. Aurélien could feel Zuri's pulse quicken where their wrists touched.

"You okay?" he asked softly.

Zuri nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "Yeah, just... this is really happening, huh?"

As Elder Nkeng finished the knot, the crowd erupted in cheers. The flash of cameras went off in rapid succession, capturing the moment.

Aurélien looked at Zuri, her face radiant with joy and maybe a touch of disbelief. He couldn't help but grin, feeling a bit dazed himself.

This is really happening, he thought.

"So," he said, leaning in close, "think we can convince them to leave us tied up like this for the rest of the party?"

Zuri snorted, her eyes dancing with amusement. "Why, Tchouaméni? Afraid I'll make a run for it?"

"Nah," he replied, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "Just like having you this close."

He watched with satisfaction as a warmth crept up her cheeks just as they were swarmed by well-wishers.

"Félicitations!" Jules called out, clapping Aurélien on the back. "Though I still can't believe you beat me to the altar, man."

As the celebration continued around them, Aurélien found himself constantly aware of Zuri's presence beside him. The warmth of her hand in his, the brush of her arm against his side, the way she'd lean in to whisper comments in his ear... it was driving him crazy in the best possible way.

Later, as they swayed together on the dance floor (their hands finally unbound), Aurélien pulled Zuri closer. "You know," he murmured, his lips brushing her ear, "I think I might be the luckiest guy here."

Zuri pulled back slightly, eyebrow raised. "Oh? And why's that?"

Aurélien grinned, spinning her out and then back into his arms. "Because I get to take you home tonight."

The look Zuri gave him then – part surprise, part desire, all heat – nearly made him forget they were in a room full of people. As the music swelled around them, Aurélien made a silent promise to himself: arranged or not, he was going to make damn sure this marriage was one for the books.

As the DJ spun the next track, a familiar rhythm of Afrobeats pulsed through the speakers. Zuri looked a bit lost as the beat shifted, her brow furrowing slightly as she glanced at the crowd around them moving to the rhythm with ease. Aurélien couldn’t help but shake his head, amusement tugging at his lips.

"Shit, you gonna have to learn some moves," he teased, watching her struggle to catch the beat.

Zuri’s lips parted in a playful pout. "You should’ve known by now that I’m no dancer."

"You proved yourself wrong the other night, ZuZu. Just dance," he urged, leaning in closer.

She started to protest, "Aurél—"

"Dance with your fiancé," he said in a low, commanding tone that made Zuri lick her lower lip in a way that sent heat straight to his core. "That's not a request either."

"Oh?" Zuri's eyebrow arched, a challenge in her eyes.

"Exactly," he said, pulling her closer to move to the beat.

Around them, the dance floor came alive. Their friends and family were getting into it, but it was Camavinga who stole the show with his impressive footwork.

"Eh, footwork! Eh, footwork!" The chant rose from the crowd, led mostly by their cousins.

Aurélien grinned, he could always count on his cousins to hype someone up. But his focus quickly returned to Zuri, who was starting to loosen up, her body moving more naturally to the rhythm.

"See?" he murmured in her ear, his hands guiding her hips. "You've got this."

Zuri's answering smile was equal parts shy and seductive, and Aurélien found himself thinking that the real party would start when they finally got home. "You’re lucky I like you."

"Lucky?" He chuckled, his breath hot against her ear as he leaned in. "Bébé, I’m just getting started."

She let out a small laugh, but her gaze remained locked on his, the heat between them undeniable as the music pulsed, carrying them deeper into their rhythm. But then, her eyes flickered to the other side of the dancefloor, something catching her attention. Aurélien followed her gaze, spotting Senait and Jules dancing together. Senait’s back was pressed against Jules’ front, and he was catching her whines with a practiced ease, both of them lost in their own world.

"Oh my god, Senait—" Zuri started to say, but Aurélien quickly shushed her, surprising her into silence.

Her eyes widened as she gaped at him. "Did you just shush me?"

Aurélien smirked. "Don’t be a cockblocker, bébé," he teased.

"I’m not," she grumbled, pouting in that adorable way she did when things didn’t go her way. Aurélien groaned inwardly, fighting the urge to kiss that bratty pout right off her face. Since they’d started spending more time together, he realized that he thoroughly enjoyed this side of her. It was frustrating sometimes, but it also drove him wild. The thought of taming her properly had crossed his mind more than once.

"You are," he insisted, his voice deepening, the playful command in his tone unmistakable. "Worry about me tonight. Not Senait."

Zuri shifted closer to him, her lips parting as if she had a comeback ready, but whatever she was going to say died on her lips as the beat shifted again, drawing them back into their own rhythm.

Aurélien grinned, satisfied, pulling her even closer. "That’s more like it," he murmured, his hands sliding to her hips, guiding her body in time with his. "Just you and me, ma chérie."

Zuri relaxed into him, her pout fading into a smile as they swayed to the music, the rest of the room forgotten.

As the night wore on, they found themselves surrounded by a mountain of beautifully wrapped gifts.

"Time to see what damage our friends have done," Aurélien joked, picking up a sizeable box.

They tore into the gifts, alternating between genuine appreciation and fits of laughter. Jude and Lila had gifted them a set of "Mr. and Mrs." aprons, complete with cheesy soccer puns. Camavinga's gift was a state-of-the-art coffee machine that Aurélien was pretty sure cost more than some cars.

When Jules finally made his way over, Aurélien couldn't resist teasing his friend. "Alors, tu t'amuses bien?" (So, enjoying the party?)

Jules tried to play it cool, but Aurélien knew him too well to miss the slight flush on his cheeks. "C'est pas mal. Bonne musique, bonne bouffe..." (It's alright. Good music, good food...)

"Bonne compagnie? (Good company?)" Aurélien supplied, smirking.

Jules rolled his eyes. "Ta gueule, mec. J'étais juste poli." (Shut up, man. I was just being polite.)

"Ah bon," Aurélien nodded, not buying it for a second. "Et c'est pour ça que tu n'as pratiquement pas quitté Senait de la soirée?" (Uh-huh. And that's why you've barely left Senait's side all night?)

Jules opened his mouth to retort, but before he could, Senait appeared at his side, slipping her arm through his.

"What are you two whispering about?" she asked, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

Aurélien's eyebrows shot up, and he couldn't help but grin at Jules' flustered expression. "Oh, nothing important. Just catching up," he replied smoothly in English.

Jules cleared his throat, looking both pleased and embarrassed. "We were just... uh..."

"About to dance?" Senait finished for him, tugging him towards the dance floor. "Absolutely."

As they walked away, Aurélien felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to find Zuri, an eyebrow raised in question. "What was that all about?"

Aurélien smirked. "Let's just say your friend might be sticking around Madrid a bit longer than planned."

Suddenly, a hush fell over the crowd, and Elder Nkeng stepped forward, his voice commanding as he spoke in Bamum. His words cut through the air, and everyone immediately quieted, listening with reverence. Aurélien leaned down, his breath warm against Zuri’s ear as he translated.

"He’s saying it’s time for the farewell ceremony," he murmured.

Zuri’s fingers squeezed his instinctively, her nerves evident. Though she had done well hiding them throughout the evening, moments like this reminded her how unfamiliar everything still felt, despite how deep they’d already gotten.

The guests began forming a pathway, an aisle of well-wishers lined with beaming smiles and blessings. Aurélien took Zuri’s hand, intertwining their fingers as he led her forward. Rose petals and confetti fluttered around them, catching in the soft breeze, and the melodic hum of the Bamileke chant filled the room, rising into the air like a blessing carried by the wind.

He could hear snippets of the words, fragments of Bamum and French woven together—prosperity, love, fertility, unity—each phrase stirring something deeper in him. Aurélien glanced at Zuri, who looked radiant under the falling petals, her eyes wide, her lips slightly parted in awe. Her grip on his hand tightened, and in that moment, as they were showered with blessings, the weight of their situation became undeniable.

A rush of protectiveness swelled in him, followed by something more dangerous. Desire.

Zuri caught him staring, and her lips curled into a soft, questioning smile. "Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked, her voice low, teasing, but with a hint of curiosity.

Aurélien’s smirk deepened. "You look good under confetti," he said, his tone playful but tinged with heat.

Zuri rolled her eyes, though her smile didn’t falter. "Is that all?"

"No," he replied, his voice dropping to that intimate tone he knew drove her crazy. "It’s everything else, too."

The farewell ceremony was winding down, with the older guests exchanging warm goodbyes and lingering on final blessings. Zuri looked calm, but Aurélien knew she wasn’t unaffected by the evening’s weight. And neither was he.

Aurélien led Zuri toward the waiting car, his hand at the small of her back, a gesture that had become instinctive in recent days. His thoughts, however, were a storm of emotions.

They had been getting closer, that much was obvious. It wasn’t just the physical chemistry between them, though that was undeniable. It was the late-night conversations, the laughter, the way they seemed to just fit. But tonight, something had shifted. Something more real, more intense, had taken hold. His fingers flexed against her lower back as they neared the car, the heat of her skin burning through the thin fabric of her dress.

The door closed behind them with a soft thud, leaving them in the intimate silence of the car. Zuri settled into her seat, and Aurélien felt a heat radiating through him that had been building all night.

Desire was one thing — he was no stranger to it — but this was more. They’d been skirting around each other for weeks now, growing closer, sharing more than just a bed in his house. He had gotten used to the sound of her laughter, the feel of her body curled up next to him at night. The question that had been lingering in the back of his mind for days now, though, was one he couldn't shake anymore.

Would they keep sharing the same bed after all this? After their parents left tomorrow and life returned to whatever normal looked like for them now, would she still come to him at night? Would she want to?

And more importantly… was she ready to cross that line with him?

Aurélien's jaw tightened as he glanced over at her, watching as she looked out the window, her expression soft but unreadable. He didn’t want to rush her, didn’t want to push her into something she wasn’t ready for. But damn, it had been hard keeping his hands off her. The tension between them had been simmering for weeks now, and tonight had only turned the heat up.

He wanted her. Badly. More than he could admit, even to himself. But it wasn’t just lust. It was something deeper, something about the way she made him feel grounded and alive all at once.

He leaned back against the seat, exhaling slowly, his hand still resting on her thigh.

She turned to him then, her gaze meeting his. There was a question in her eyes, maybe the same one that had been plaguing him all night.

"What?" she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Aurélien’s lips curled into a slow smirk. "Nothing," he replied, though his voice was rougher than he intended. His thumb brushed absently over her knee, the contact making his pulse jump. "Just thinking."

"About?" she pressed, leaning slightly toward him, her tone playful but curious.

He let out a low chuckle, shifting in his seat to face her fully. "About what happens next," he said, his voice serious despite the smirk still tugging at his lips. His hand slid up her leg just a little, the weight of his palm warm and firm. "After your parents leave tomorrow. After all this… settles."

Zuri’s brow furrowed slightly, her teeth tugging on her lower lip. "You mean… us?"

Aurélien nodded, his gaze dropping to her lips before meeting her eyes again. "Yeah, us."

There was a pause, the air between them heavy with unspoken words and a tension that had been building for too long.

"I don’t know," she admitted, her voice soft but honest. "I mean… this weekend has been…" she trailed off, searching for the right words. "Different. Good, but… different."

He nodded, understanding what she wasn’t saying. It had been different. They’d gone from strangers bound by an arrangement to something… more. But what exactly, neither of them knew yet.

Aurélien shifted closer to her, his hand moving to cup her cheek gently. "I’m not asking you to make any decisions tonight," he murmured, his thumb brushing over her skin softly. "I just… I want you to know that whatever happens next, it’s up to you. No pressure, no expectations. Just… us."

Zuri’s eyes softened, and she leaned into his touch, her hand covering his. "I know," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Aurélien’s heart pounded in his chest as he leaned in, pressing his lips to hers in a slow, deliberate kiss. It wasn’t rushed, but there was a hunger beneath it, a promise of what could be if they both allowed it.

When they finally pulled apart, Zuri’s breath was shaky, her eyes still closed as if savoring the moment.

She smiled softly, and leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder as the car drove further away from the venue.

Whatever happened next, Aurélien knew one thing for sure — he wasn’t letting go of her anytime soon. And if tonight was any indication, neither was she.

TO BE CONTINUED.....

[silvernightabyss]

“Who says the protagonist's life has to be happy?” - Chapter 1

Yandere Hero x gn!Reader

Isekai, who among us hasn't dreamed of it? Well, get it signed. Try not to throw yourself into the arms of the protagonist as soon as you see him. Remember, you may know everything about him, but he's seeing you for the first time. The thoughts of the protagonist come as a gift.

How many references do you want? Yes.

word count: 2.9k Prologue/Chapter 1

It's been two weeks since you've been in the fantasy world of the novel. Adapting has been difficult, even though you've inherited fragmentary memories of the original owner of the body. The unfamiliar people, surroundings, etiquette, and architecture were very disconcerting. To your shame, you spent your first night sobbing quietly in your room in the temple. The only thing you were probably lucky about was that you weren't a member of the church, just a hired sewist. Given the fact that the high priest was the one who raped Evan, you had no desire to see the man, whose name was Donavan. Make sure you memorize that shithead's name and if you ever summon a demon, sell his soul.

In fact, you hadn't seen him or Evan since you'd been in this world. And while the first pleased you, the second disappointed you. As you learned by asking the servants, Evan and his team were on a quest to destroy one of the demon lords living in a poisonous swamp. This happened at the beginning of the first volume, as you may recall. And what the author thought to add the location of the poison swamp, in all games it was always the most annoying part. Probably because the author was an insufferable evil bastard who drew inspiration from the most annoying things created by human hands. A sudden wave of anger almost ripped the thin fabric in your hands in half. Then you stroked it quickly, as if to comfort it, removing the creases that had formed.

Poor Evan was going to get poisoned by some nasty animal and come back to the temple with a fever for a week. Sad, of course, but nothing that with your level of power you could change. The day after the isekai, you tried a little magic. Find some chakra, mana core, nen or something. But no. All you got was to feel like an idiot for half an hour, huffing and puffing like a pissed-off hedgehog. No transmigrator buffs. No annoying system or divine companion. Nothing. That made you completely powerless to help Evan. It was frustrating, angry, and made you want to bang your head against the wall. Your modern upbringing couldn't allow you to ignore someone else's misfortune. If you worked in the kitchen, you would surely spit in the soups and drinks that are made especially for the High Priest. Unfortunately, those are the only petty thoughts of revenge you could afford.

Part of you just wanted to leave, good thing sewing skills were embedded in your subcortex, and you could find work somewhere else, not in a place where you knew one hero suffered every day. You wince. Thinking about it like that made you feel bad about yourself. It was vile to think of leaving. As the only person with knowledge of the situation, you had to stay and try to help in any way you could. Even if your attempts would be fruitless in the end.

You spent the next two hours diligently embroidering new robes and fixing old ones where the fabric was too worn. Unpleasant thoughts of varying degrees of intrusiveness kept popping into your head, but you studiously ignored them. Their content was something like “To be or not to be”, only your option was “To stay or not to stay”.

After you finished your work, you picked up a pile of robes and went to turn them in to the storekeeper. The temple was beautiful, even to your unassuming eye. The entire continent worshiped the Creator who made the world and the gods they created to help look after the people. In fact, you remembered from the book that the mythology of Evan's world was very interesting. Incredibly written and detailed lore describing events from ancient times to the present day. Some of the knowledge you had already forgotten, but for example you remembered that the Irin continent, where the main story took place, was named after the god's favorite angel.

The central temple of the capital was dedicated to the Creator. Numerous frescoes on the ceiling depicted the creation of the world and the races that inhabited it. For the first week, you walked with your head up, and more than once you were on the verge of falling. The tall, graceful steles also drew attention to the care with which the flowers and leaves were molded, as if they were real and the spell had just turned them to stone a moment ago. The garden wasn't to be forgotten, you'd only been there once, but it was already completely engraved in your heart. Score one for staying. Overall to summarize the temple was beautiful, the priests friendly. So why the hell is this place of paradise run by this goddamn pervert! The Creator's eyes are blown out of their heads to let a man like that in charge of their temple? Unbearable.

Your boots thudded loudly and angrily on the marble floor, and you continued on your way. The servants and priests you encountered preferred to avoid you in a wide arc, sensing in their gut the dark and heavy aura you gave off. With the power you put into opening the door, you could shred a mountain to pieces with a single blow. Yeah, like that bald guy, that's how powerful you were at that moment. The storekeeper didn't even lift his head from the paper he was looking at. Inwardly, you marveled a little at his restraint; you yourself would have jumped on the spot if you had been rushed in with such a bang. More calmly you approached the not-young man whose most prominent feature was his giant-hooked nose.

“I brought the robes, where should I put them?” Your voice rumbles through the room.

The man nodded vaguely toward a neighboring room filled with baskets full of robes. The servants had to wash and dry the robes before handing them back to the priests. Why the freshly sewn robes had to be washed was a big question, but not of your mind. You were about to leave when you were stopped by the storekeeper.

“Go to the infirmary and get the medicine for the hero. His chambers are in the east wing of the temple on the third floor.”

During your entire stay in the room, the storekeeper didn't even look at you, and after he gave you the order, he started acting as if you weren't even here. Well, the main thing is that he didn't yell. You shrugged your shoulders and left the room.

The stone-face test was successfully passed, the die rolled on a twenty! In fact, your heart was racing, and your palms were unpleasantly sweaty. Did all this mean you would be able to see Evan? You didn't even know he'd returned. With an effort of will, you suppressed the joyful scream that burst from your mouth. You're going to see the protagonist of this damn novel. Almost dancing, you hurried toward the infirmary.

The nurse, whose name was Ellen, gave you your medication as soon as she heard that you had come from the storekeeper. The girl explained that because of the upcoming festival dedicated to the Creator, all the servants were busy preparing for the sacred rituals. Mentally, you tsked. That no servant could spare time for the precious hero of the Church? Nonsense, of course, but nonsense that plays right into your hands. Having memorized what to give and in what dosage, you headed for the eastern wing.

The corridors became more and more empty with every turn, as if you were entering a forbidden zone. The atmosphere was oppressive and growing colder with each step. A creak sounded very close to you, made you jump on the spot and freeze. It was scary to turn around. You didn't want to see the ghost behind you. On bending legs, you turned around and ….Mmm No, that's just your overactive imagination working for the bread. There was nothing behind you. Nothing in the front, either. Cussing under your breath, you continued walking. Isekai had definitely taken a toll on your nerves. Shame they hadn't invented valerian here yet.

The doors to Evan's chambers were carved, decorated with ornaments of flowers. You knocked hesitantly, and when there was no answer, you knocked again, but louder. Maybe he was asleep? What was to be done? The nurse had said the medication had to be timed to avoid making him feel worse. The doorknob in your hand felt like a ticket to heaven or hell. Praying in your mind to who you didn't know, you pushed it down. With a quiet click, the door opened. Like a mouse about to steal cheese, you quietly slipped through the gap and closed the door behind you. You hoped Evan wasn't a cat that would eat you for entering without permission.

The main hero's chambers were green, very green, not because the walls and furniture were that color, but because of the dozens or even hundreds of pots with various plants. As a half-elf, Evan had the ability to understand and talk to plants. For a long time in the novel, they were his only friends, listening to all his sorrows. Sighing sadly, you headed for the door behind, which was presumably the bedroom.

Evan lay on the bed, resting peacefully, deep in sleep. The blanket lay in a bunched pile at the half elf's feet. His complexion was very pale with blue veins clearly visible, there were deep bruises under his eyes, and his breathing was intermittent and heavy. Despite this, he was still more handsome than the sleeping beauty herself. If you thought the comparison was inappropriate, just never mind. On tiptoe, you moved closer and leaned over the sleeping hero. Handsome. You especially liked the way his leafy green hair curled around his pointy ears. You wanted to catch one strand between your fingers and then watch it curl back. You weren't weird. Not at all.

You put the tray of medicine on the bedside table with a little more clatter than you'd like, but Evan didn't wake up, thankfully. The half elf's forehead was scalding hot, and you jerked your hand away quickly. Looking around, you spotted a basin of water on the other side of the room and quickly soaked the rag you'd grabbed from the tray before placing it on Evan's forehead. That's better. Satisfied, you smiled to yourself.

The question of how to medicate the unconscious hero was still open. You frankly didn't want to wake him up. You remembered from the book that Evan's condition was extremely serious, and he didn't come to his senses at all. Rest is the best medicine. It's better if you quietly do your business and leave, and he won't even know you're in his chambers. Shit, that sounded like some kind of thief.

Pass the cure with a kiss? You shook your head frantically as soon as the thought crossed your mind. God, you'd read too many romance novels. Conscience and morality would never allow you to violate Evan's personal boundaries like that, considering how they'd already been violated by the high priest. Besides, it would be despicable to do that to any person.

But then what were you supposed to do? You'd just have to pour the drugs into Evan's mouth and hope he didn't choke. That's about what you did, luckily without becoming a hero killer. Now comes the most difficult and embarrassing part. Ellen gave you an ointment to rub into the half elf's chest. The medical reasons behind this you almost completely missed, and you only had to take on faith the necessity of this action. Evan wouldn't like it if someone he didn't know undressed him and started performing medical procedures on him. Right? So something had to be done about it.

One of the scraps of fabric Ellen put on the tray caught your eye. It's perfect. You'll pretend to be a butler, covering your eyes with a strip of fabric so as not to embarrass your mistress. Master. You mean Evan. Quickly and tightly tying the band, you found yourself in darkness. With suddenly trembling hands you fumbled for the collar of the half elf's shirt and from it, you easily reached the buttons. Normally you would have easily done it in less than a minute, but now deprived of sight and incredibly embarrassed; each of your actions was stretched to the point of impossibility. After an eternity according to your internal clock, you finally managed this undeniably difficult task.

So it was time for the ointment, which was as green as you remembered and smelled like bumps or something else freshly herbal. Incredibly embarrassed by your own actions, you rubbed the ointment in as fast as you could without lingering on any part of Evan's skin. What's a stupid trail? A relieved exhale escaped you when this torture finally stopped. Ellen had said the ointment should absorb very quickly, literally in less than a minute, and in your head you drummed your fingers on your thigh, ticking off the seconds. When the time was up, you hoped for it towards the end you began to speed up the count, with all care you covered Evan with the blanket. The nurse had said the fever would go down very quickly, which meant the half elf could get cold.

And so it was done! Now you could leave with a clear conscience. You pulled the bandage off your eyes, blinked in the light, and hurriedly picked up the tray, leaving the room. Before you passed through the doorway, you took one last look at Evan, still sleeping peacefully. Handsome even when he's sick. Nodding affirmatively at that thought, you headed back to the infirmary to return the medication to the nurse.

***

Evan woke up when someone started undoing the buttons of his sleeping shirt. His first thought was that it was Donavan, so the only thing he could do was lie there and not fight back. Was he sick of his powerlessness? So sick that he wanted to open his chest with his hands and rip out his damn heart, which sometimes allowed itself to hope for the best. The half elf left his eyes closed, not wanting to look at the high priest's ugly face, twisted with desire. He could still visualize it all too well, anyway. A convulsion shot through his arm and he clawed his fingers into the sheets, his nails almost tearing the fabric.

Halfway through the unbuttoning, Evan suddenly realized that the fingers that sometimes grazed his skin were different from Donovan's skinny, knotted fingers, the pads of which were covered with calluses. In addition, a strange chill spread from his forehead down his body. Was it the damp cloth? It was only because of the two factors above that he actually opened his eyes and saw you. The snort that almost came out of his mouth, he held back with an incredible effort of will. A blindfold? It was ridiculous, even more ridiculous than the mix of slime deer and owl he'd met in the swamp. Ridiculous but oddly cute. The mere thought that he might be uncomfortable being stared at half-naked had never occurred to anyone. With already great interest and friendliness, he began to consider your appearance.

When you reached for the green jar, he recognized it as an antipyretic. A spark of realization lit him up, and Evan bit his lip. He was ready for the feeling of a thousand little insects crawling under his skin, but your touch didn't disgust him. Evan blinked perplexedly when he realized this. Short and medically detached, your touch was devoid of any lust. Noticing your fingers trembling, Evan concluded that at the very least you were awkward. Later his guess was confirmed by your tapping on your thigh, too uneven and often out of rhythm to be a sign of boredom or impatience. The blanket you covered him with forced him to smile slightly. A display of simple human caring that he had always been deprived of. The thought made him feel unpleasantly empty inside.

When your fingers reached for the bandage, Evan closed his eyes as quickly as possible, not even knowing why. He didn't have an answer to that question. Listening to the quiet rustling of the fabric of your clothes and the tinkling of the medicine on the tray made his heart feel lighter for some reason. It was as if you were not a randomly sent servant, but someone close to him who genuinely cared about him.

The creak of the door alerted him to your departure, but with his keen hearing, he could still hear your footsteps outside his chambers. As soon as they were gone, Evan sat up on the bed, causing the cloth on his forehead to fall down. Silently, he twirled it in his hands. His head felt strangely empty. Perhaps the only question that bothered him now was; who are you? Meeting you had irrevocably changed something in him, as if he had been a broken clock just now starting to run.

Evan rolled back over, sinking into the soft mattress, and returned the cloth to his forehead. The next time you two meet, once he's recovered enough to walk, he'll be sure to ask your name. With that thought, his exhausted mind took to its realm of Morpheus.

Reblogs, comments, are always greatly appreciated! ヽ(o^ ^o)ﾉ

[millportisntreal]

Thinking about son of Hermes Neil Josten. Growing up with a mother who stuck with the Butcher, a man so vile no monsters would come near. Mary praying, praying, praying for auburn hair and blue eyes, to need there to be no question of paternity. Thinking about how when they finally go on the run, Neil feels more at home than he ever did in Baltimore. The road is a comfort for him, not quite safe but secure in the rightness of movement. Being fast when he needs to get away, outrunning hands and bullets and knifes. Coming into his own as a thief, a pick pocket, always finding luck on his side. Realizing that he picks up and understands languages better than anyone else he knows. And when his mother’s body is burning and then the bones are buried in the California sea side, he gets a message on the wind, the speaker sounding familiar like a dream or a childhood friend - “You’ll be safe at Palmetto.”

Once Neil learns the truth, when he’s safe at Palmetto surrounded by people like him, I imagine how relieved he is to learn that the Butcher is not his father. He was a Wesninski only in name, and not in blood. Neil uses his God-given wit and cunning to take down Riko and the Nest. He is a permeable boundary that brings together the Monsters and the rest of the Foxes.

And, of course, he’s the fastest on the team.

[honey-minded-hivemind]

In the Lovesick AU, Reader seemed to others the ideal, non-stereotypical yandere: a new age version. They were calmer, more down-to-earth, slow to anger, less territorial, and great with advice and sharing. They seemed like a darling's or yandere's dream friend or partner... Of course, Reader wasn't interested in romance, either, so that helped many see them not as a threat, but as a friend or buddy, a person that helped rather than stole from them or mocked.

Reader was an easy friend for Scott to make. They helped him after Duncan beat him up, they bandaged wounds, they even called Duncan out on what he did. And Reader just- they seemd to understand, having to the bigger person. Even when you didn't want to be that. And they seemed to enjoy listening to him, or offering him a hand when he had a project, or just mediating between the teens of the school who needed to calm down. They were refreshing. Nice. Trustworthy. (He never meant to bettay their trust, he was just worried about them-)

Rogue found Reader to be open-minded. They tried to stand up for others, even when it meant facing possible backlash. They had new ideas, such as letting darlings not register their secondary gender, or saying out loud how past treatment of darlings throughout history was vile, shortsighted, wicked, even when it made close-minded teachers or students glare at them. Yet Reader still tried to be nice. They weren't as abrasive as some thought. They brought candies to class to share, they made friendships as easy as a kindergartener would, tend tend accepted her as she was, not wanting her to change or hide. It felt nice.

Kitty and Kurt and Evan liked this kid. They were fun! They had funny jokes, sarcasm, clever one-liners, and when they were blunt, it was hilarious! But they also were serious when it came to treating others with respect. They tried to be polite, they were obedient (most of the time), and they didn't rile up anyone or start petty arguments. They just seemed to try to make things easier for others. It wasn't hard to like them.

Lance found it hard to like them at first. Someone who was that nice, or seemed to have nearly everyone not dislike them? How was that even real? Except... they didn't use it to hurt others. H*ll, they'd even snip or snarl at someone if they tried to joke cruelly about him, or fight him. They didn't have to. He wasn't helpless! But... they also didn't expect anything in return. They never did. So maybe it wasn't too hard to try and keep the peace around them, then...

Pietro liked this person. Oh, they're quite the odd one! They have confidence, or so it seems. They don't get in his or his team's way. And they even are a mutant, too! Ha! Too perfect! Except... fine, the X-Men also like them. But that isn't a big problem. He's not so sure though, that they're so perfect... Something just tells him, that maybe it's best to keep an eye on them...

Todd's cool with them. They like art, they compliment his art, they'll wax poetic about things like bones or ashes or mud, and he finds himself realizing they're right. He appreciates them noticing the smalle lr things in life. He likes how they find beauty in everything. And hey, they share snacks, so that's awesome, too. Maybe they're not so different...

[dgrailwar]

Round 10, Day 2 - Team Pretender vs. Team Alter-Ego - NOBLE PHANTASM

"Alright, lady. Time to fight!"

"Oh no~! I'm in trouble~!"

"Or maybe not. Xiǎo xīn!"

"What's that supposed to mea--"

"---!?"

The Pretender felt a sharp pain in his side, a blade twisting into his body before being ripped out. A heavy kick sent the Pretender flying. He slammed into the rubble, his body bouncing off the stone and collapsing to the ground. He coughed, blood flowing from his mouth as he tried to wipe it away, struggling to his feet.

The ground began to run red, as more and more water began to rise, as if the tides themselves had suddenly surged upon the earth. He finally caught sight of the perpetrator, slowly approaching, her legs dancing on the slick surface of the rising water.

"Pretender… you're a real nuisance, aren't you? I'll just swallow you up and reduce you to nothing, then! It's only fair, isn't it?"

Her approach suddenly became much faster, her form distorting into a barrage of afterimages.

"Hehehe-- Hahahaha-- HAHAHAHA--!"

A blur of motion, coming from every angle. Cycling, cycling. Spinning, spinning. Again and again. A pillar of rising water, from the sheer cyclone motion of the Alter-Ego, the Pretender finding himself trapped inside.

A grand Noble Phantasm. Beautiful. Deadly. A song- a tale- of collapse and rebirth. Befitting of the Alter-Ego who wielded it, a Noble Phantasm that could collapse people, nations, cultures, even the world- if she so chose. A true deluge, manifested in the digital space.

Behold--

"Saraswati... Meltout!"

"Imperial Edict. Wage war.": Boosts and demerits will be doubled for the upcoming round, as part of the Imperial Edict!

If someone wins with greater than 15%, they do double-damage!

Alter-Ego has triggered her Noble Phantasm! Saraswati Meltout: Benzaiten's Five-String Biwa!

Pretender: 9% x 2 (18%)

Alter-Ego: 36% x 2 (72%)

SERVANT DETAILS:

Oberon-Vortigern (PRETENDER)

HP: 2/3

Team Pretender has no Command Spells remaining!

Oberon's True Name has been unveiled! His power has increased, but he's lost the ability to recover!

Evening Shroud and Morning Lark (EX Rank) - In the cover of night, even the most unscrupulous warriors can at least feign greatness. When the sun rises, warriors gain the morale to fight another day. When engaged in combat, gain a +5% boost.

Affection of the Fairy Princess (Unranked) - A 'false' skill. The fair Princess of the Autumn Forest fell in love with the vile King of the Mors, who was cursed to never love. A tragedy almost Shakespearean in nature. When Oberon would take his final wound, Blanca will take the damage in his place, killing herself in his stead. This does not work against 'red'-grade Noble Phantasms, that possess a power that can destroy both Oberon and Blanca together.

Fairy Eyes (Unranked) - When 'Playing Defensively', increase your +5% combat boost to +7%. He also cannot be 'Ambushed'.

A Midsummer Night's Dream (EX Rank) - Rather than just reducing the effectiveness of Servant-imposed demerits, he is immune to them entirely. Unlike other demerit immunities, this ignores the effects of Servant traits and Free-for-All demerits as well. He gathers 'Curses' from combat, which can be used to fuel his Noble Phantasm (baseline +1 for participating, +2 for winning, and +3 for winning with more than 20% over your opponent).

Current Curses: 1

-

Class-Trait:

PRETENDER-CLASS Servants possess an inherent trickster nature. If they fall in last place during a Free-for-All, if there is a gap of 3% within their final score and that of the Servant in 2nd place, they can evade taking a wound. Additionally, if they're victorious against other Servants, other teams cannot attempt to study the Pretender in order to gain a percentage bonus against them.

Meltryllis (ALTER-EGO)

HP: 3/3

Team Alter-Ego has no Command Spells remaining!

Servant Skills:

Melt Virus (EX Rank) - When engaged in a Free-for-All, inflict all foes with a -3% demerit. If Meltryllis gains 1st place in the Free-for-All by a margin of 10% or more, inflict a -3% demerit to your foes for their next round and gain a +3% boost for your next combat round.

Crime Ballet (A Rank) - When engaged in a one-on-one, increase the Alter-Ego Class Trait one-on-one boost to +5% rather than +3% (+6% if targeting a Servant that's Playing Defensively).

Saint Graph Expansion (B Rank): When engaged in a Free-for-All, gain a +2% boost. Additionally, if Alter-Ego finds herself in a tie against an opponent in a one-on-one (according to the final results, including boosts), her opponent takes a wound and a -2% demerit while she fully escapes damage and gains a +2% bonus for the next round.

NOBLE PHANTASM: Saraswati Meltout (EX Rank)

A powerful, debilitating Noble Phantasm that inflicts 2 ‘wounds’ instead of one. Meltryllis gains a +30% boost in her combat poll scores for the round, and if her target survives, they’re struck with a -10% demerit for the immediate next round as Meltryllis holds onto a +10% boost.

If the Noble Phantasm successfully kills, Meltryllis successfully absorbs the ‘Class Traits’ of the destroyed enemies.

Boost from the Imperial Edict: If the gap between scores is wider than 50%, the Noble Phantasm inflicts 3 wounds rather than 2.

-

Class-Trait:

ALTEREGO-CLASS Servants fight at their best when given a specific target. When engaged in a standard one-on-one confrontation, they gain a +3% boost. If attacking a Servant 'Playing Defensively', they gain a +4% boost instead.

[berix2010]

Do you love Team Fortress 2 and hate Valve's years of neglecting the bot issue?

Then please sign the petition at save.tf and help spread the word about the #FixTF2 movement! More information can be found in the read more, but the tl;dr is that Valve has been neglecting Team Fortress 2's bot issue for far too long, and on June 3rd its encouraged to share your screenshots and video of cheater bots in action with the hashtags #FixTF2 and #SaveTF2

Despite this game still having a loyal and active community of fans most companies could only dream of in spite of the game itself having no major content updates since 2017, people have been feed up with the fact that Valve has done next to nothing to deal with the waves of cheater bots that have not made the game both harder to play normally (especially outside of peak playing hours) but have actively made the game toxic and even outright dangerous for players looking to have fun. In the words of this site and petition's creators:

"The bot hosters are malicious actors, using their aimbots as a vessel to endlessly attack and harass community members. They abuse the in-game text and voice chats to spread the most vile hate speech imaginable, while simultaneously advertising their “bot immunity services” in an attempt to scam the players desperately looking for a solution. They’ve used these same means to dox people’s personal information and broadcast it to the player-base against their will. Bot hosters have even gone so far as to commit actual crimes, such as using AI voice-modifiers to impersonate and slander non-consenting parties, launching persistent DDoS attacks, and have even swatted one of their most ardent critics."

Despite being over 17 years old, having a very active fanbase, and still having new seasonal cosmetics being released regularly for real money, Valve has horribly neglected this game and left in a state where its practically overrun nefarious actors exploiting the game for personal gain. Most fans don't even care about releasing a new update as big as the last one (2017's Jungle Inferno update) at this point, we just want Valve to fix the bot crisis.

On June 3rd, its heavily encouraged by the leaders of this consumer movement to post videos, screenshots, and personal accounts of players' encounters with these bots in an effort to get #FixTF2 trending and put a spotlight on Valve's neglect of the game despite continuing to profit from it. The petition itself will be sent to Valve, and all you need to do is add your email and name, and click on the confirmation email. Their site is currently getting a lot more traffic than expected, so you may need to wait over 10 minutes to receive the confirmation email and officially add your signature.

[ladyloveandjustice]

Summer 2024 Anime Overview: Mayonaka Punch and SHY Season 2

Mayonaka Punch

Masaki runs a successful YouTube (or ‘NewTube’ as they call it) channel with her two friends, however arguments arise, and she ends up punching one of her friends during a stream. She’s dropped from the channel and the internet turns against her, dashing hopes of starting over. Meanwhile, a vampire, Live, is dreaming about a beautiful woman offering blood to her and she discovers the girl of her dreams is Masaki. So Masaki strikes a dangerous deal with Live so she can start a brand new YouTube channel with the vampire as the star...

Canceled Youtuber x Loser Vampire yuri. This is the kind of shit I watch anime for.

Do you support women’s wrongs? Are you an appreciator of female characters who are loveable shit heads? This is the show for you! I love that Masaki is absolutely in the wrong, her punch is not justified and the show never pretends it is, she’s unabashedly selfish and the show loves to point that out, yet she still has a lot of pathos, and you really begin to root for her and her budding friendships (or possibly more with Live?) The four vampires Masaki team up with (and one vampire desperately trying to keep them in line) are all unapologetic disasters, and they make a fantastic ensemble comedy.

The dynamic between to group and the way they form strong bonds with each other through the chaos is fun to watch, and almost every vampire gets a nice focus episode where you come to feel for them. Fu’s episode is a highlight here, being so devastatingly sad and sweet I believe the people who say they cried over it. While the show never gets that intense again, we do get to see these ridiculous assholes put themselves in wacky situations for the sake of clicks, from stranding themselves on an island or getting in an ill advised garlic eating challenge.

But the core relationship is obviously Live and Masaki. Live is downright horny for Masaki’s blood, from the moment she imagines Masaki coming to her in the nude in a dream. The blood=sexual lust metaphor is...incredibly thinly veiled. Masaki is completely willing to take advantage of the down-bad vampire, even seductively baring her shoulder at one point to make Live do what she wants.

But of course, it’s not all horny antics…we slowly watch Masaki warm up to Live, meanwhile Live come to love Masaki as a person, going into a depression whenever she and Masaki are separated for a while, only to be all blushes and on her way to confessing when she gets a phone call before Masaki cuts her off. Masaki helps Live and the other vampires come together, and the vampires help Masaki out of her creative breakdown in return.

And Masaki really is going through it, getting so much criticism from and hate from the internet she doesn’t feel she can show her face again. She did do the bad thing, but it’s hard to not feel sorry for her when all the criticism beats her down, and the show subtly gets across that the performative internet outrage accomplishes nothing but being detrimental to the target’s mental health (and how often the target is not an evil irredeemable person). It’s great that Masaki is by no means the “perfect” victim, but the show still invites you to empathize with her. The way the comments are represented as swirling around her head wherever she goes, forming a cloud of smog she can barely see through—it really captures what that's like, as someone who's also been bogged down by internet drama

But the show also doesn’t group in all the negative criticism as vile bullying either, showing how some people can think their comments aren’t that serious, and think of it as regular criticism or playful ribbing that's tone gets lost over the internet…the show seems to understand internet (or at least YouTube) culture a lot better than a lot of anime do, showcasing the way it brings out creativity and comradery and also the way it can make you forget the joy of creating in your desire to please the fickle masses, and the way net users can twist and misconstrue things.

I thought the finale was very strong, but I’ll admit a tiny part of me was hoping for romantic catharsis between Live and Masaki or at least something more explicit and charged than what came before, and yeah, I didn’t get that. But I fully expected not to get that, as the many hits I’ve taken over the years as a yuri soldier have toughened me into the cynical woman I am today. Aaaand the show makes it pretty obvious they’re trying to leave room for a sequel, so that softens the disappointment a bit. I’ll also admit I was a little disappointed some angsty backstory that was teased ended up…not amounting to much, to put it in a non-spoilery way. I think the direction the show chose to go in for the finale was for the best and perfectly fitting for the story it was telling, especially considering the time constraints, but man, I am a sucker for some angsty gay backstory so I couldn’t help imagining could-have-beens.

However, it was a great series all the way through, and I’d love to get that sequel, even if I’m not holding my breath for all my yuri dreams to come true. It’s a solid, funny, well-animated good time with some messy, relatable adult women, many of whom are incompetent gay vampires, and honestly, it doesn’t get much better than that.

Shy Season 2

The second season of Shy was a disappointment. While the first (review here) was a little rough around the edges at times but had a lot of charm and a strong emotional arc, this season’s conflict was extremely repetitive and dragged out. The show is suddenly about ninja family drama, which would have been fine if the ninja characters added something new to the mix, but they really don’t. Fights go on and on with the same sentiments repeated over and over again by multiple characters. The comedy sometimes feels awkward when the next minute the show tries to get you to take the goofy villains seriously. The show has a big cheesy save-this-person-with-the-power-of-friendship anime finale…only to suddenly decide next episode “whoops they weren’t saved after all that was all for nothing tragedy time now” YOU CANNOT HAVE IT BOTH WAYS SHOW, it isn’t a tragic twist, it just feels like you wasted our time.

The anime’s strained resources are really showing this season too- it held together reasonably well in the first season despite being a clearly modest production, but is more and more off-model throughout this season, with a lot more obvious shortcuts.

It’s such a shame, because Shy was a female superhero show with so much potential and endearing characters and huge yuri undertones, so I wanted it to do well. There are still moments of charm, but if the writing stays this level, not even a hero can save it.

[wildpeachfarm]

the way people on twitter have stopped talking about alice, barley mention beau, and i haven’t seen a single person talk about freddie tells me everything i need to know

Someone needs to research the absolute psychosis that people get when the opportunity to rip apart a dream team member is presented to them because genuinely it is NEVER a situation that warrants this much vile hatred

[beomiracles]

Glad to be one of the 500!!

I had a few ACTUAL dreams of taehyun but I remember only glimpses of them, so I'll write what I remember, and you can choose, tho I'm not sure they will be towards your interest, but I'll try. You can make them suggestive if you want cuz smut is a survival necessity. They are:

- I and taehyun had met at a dating (for choosing partners) vacation camp for college students and we went there with our bsfs where tyun had beom with him and we grew attached or something like that, but I don't really remember much other than a field with soccer, and a date.

- taehyun had come to me from the future to the time when we still hadn't met (only me and my sibling could see him cuz he was from the future and cuz we had strong connection) while I was on vacation with my family, to complete a mission lol or to correct a mistake, I don't know? But I only remember an open roof bus ride with my head on his shoulder and me pretending to sleep while my brother and tyun were discussing ways to complete the mission and my brother said to taehyun, "bro, stop taking continuous glances at her, and pay attention to what I'm saying." And I tried my best to not smile cuz I was 'pretending' to sleep.

The above two options were for the 'build your own dream' category.

For the 500 words category:

- soft morning fluff with waking up beside bf or husband tyun, cuz soft morning fluffs keep me alive.

You can choose either of them, thankyou so much<3!!

And sorry if these were dumb or didn't make sense at all!!

THANKYOU AND SORRY AGAIN!!

Also, CONGRATS FOR THE 500!!

500 BASH SPECIAL

#serene adds ✎... these weren't dumb at all!! They were really cute, I'm so jealous that you get actual dreams of them, I only ever dreamt about Jungkook and even then he barely acknowledged my existence.. I picked the first one hehe! Though I changed it up a little but kept the college and football theme, I hope you'll still enjoy (੭ ･ᴗ･ )੭ sort of proofread

wc -> 1.4k

pairings football player!taehyun x afab!reader warnings making out, handjob & fingering but like at the same time, implied oral (f. rec), taehyun is kinda whiny I think, ft. bsf beomgyu

The sun was practically melting the blue plastic seats off the bleachers and you felt your thighs sticking to them in a most uncomfortable manner. Loud cheering echoed out over the field and with a hand shielding your eyes from the vile exposure of sunlight, you peer out amongst the players in the hopes of spotting your boyfriend amongst the crowd. 

Before you can find him, a voice calls out for you, shifting your attention to your left as Beomgyu takes the seat next to yours. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” He exclaims as he hands you a soda which you gratefully accept, the cool liquid much needed. “You found him yet?” He asks as he, too, squints toward the players running on the grass. 

“There”, you say as you point toward the very front. Taehyun was dribbling the ball between his legs as he ran toward the other team’s goal. The cheering around you only increases as he maneuvers past the opposing players before finally finding an open slot to shoot his shot. — The screams erupting were deafening yet you couldn’t help but smile as your boyfriend ran back to his teammates, all of them jumping with joy. 

“Tsh, what a show-off”, Beomgyu mutters as he studies his cuticles. You scoff as you give his shoulder a push, “and you could’ve done it better?” — “Give me two weeks”, he sneers as he raises his injured arm, covered in a thick layer of bandage. “Would you really want to crush your best friend’s ego like that?” You muse as you take a sip of your soda. Beomgyu huffs as he leans back, “such trivial things hold no significance out there.” 

He then turns to you with a small frown, “speaking of which, where were you earlier? I thought we were supposed to meet by the library?” Oh, right, you had completely forgotten about that. “Oh my god I’m sorry I was just going to say goodbye to Taehyun I-” Beomgyu holds up a hand as he shakes his head, “don’t. I do not wish to indulge in such gruesome details.” 

Your lips part as you frown, “it was just a goodluck kiss!” Well at least it was supposed to be. 

“Taehyun!” Your voice echoes off the walls as you wander down the empty hallway toward the locker rooms. There was no reply, maybe he had already left for the field? Yet the loud chatter coming from the other side of the door to the guy’s changing room told you that he must still be around. Fishing up your phone from your back pocket, your fingers search for his contact when suddenly someone grips onto your arm. 

It’s with a small shriek that you’re pulled inside one of the old out of use classrooms. “Taehyun, what the fuck!” You practically yell as you give your boyfriend’s chest a hard shove. “Scream a little louder and we’ll have coach coming for us”, he mumbles as his arms wrap around your body, pulling you flush against him. 

“Shouldn’t you be out there, with your coach?” You question as you raise him an eyebrow. Taehyun chuckles as he shakes his head, “he won’t notice me being missing for a couple of minutes.” — “You’re team captain”, you point out to which your boyfriend snorts. “Don’t remind me.” 

Your eyes flutter as he pushes a few strands of hair from your face, “you came to wish me goodluck?” He lets his head tilt to the side as you stammer for a response, “I uh, mhm!” you finally splutter and he grins. “Just a quick kiss though”, you say as you study him with a wary expression, all too familiar with your boyfriend’s antics. “Alright, just a quick kiss”, he agreed as his hand slid down your back to take place on your hip. 

You never got tired of kissing Taehyun. He was tender, gentle, your kisses taste like cotton candy, sweet and soft, quickly melting on your tongues. But those very kisses soon sparked into something far more lewd as your boyfriend backed you up against the neatest desk. — “Taehyun..” your low whisper rings out in the quiet classroom and he hums against your lips. “It was only supposed to be a quick kiss”, you whine as his hands trail beneath your loose t-shirt. 

“Mhm”, he breaths against your cheek before reconnecting your lips. “We are still kissing”, he says. “Yes but-” you gasp as his fingers shamelessly slip past the cup of your bra, methodically stimulating your nipples as they harden under his touch. “So, it’s still just a quick kiss”, he assures you as his other hand trails down your chest, struggling with the button of your jeans. 

You consider his words for approximately half a second before giving in. You were still kissing, so it could count as a quick kiss, no? The second Taehyun’s hand slips beneath the fabric of your panties you suddenly find that you don’t care anymore. Your hips immediately move forward as you chase his touch. Taehyun groans against your mouth as he drags his fingers between your wet folds, coating himself in your slick before pushing inside your throbbing cunt. 

“F-fuck”, you croak as you bite down on his lip, pulling a soft gasp from your boyfriend. — “Touch me”, he practically whimpers. You didn’t have to be told twice, your hand quickly unzipping his pants as they pulled his underwear back to free his cock. Your fingers around his shaft cause his breath to hitch as his own fingers curl inside of you, making your thighs tremble. 

You squeeze his tip, thumb pressing against his slit before letting your palm slide down the length of him. “Mhn, fuck angel”, he splutters as his hips jerk forward, the twitching of his dick only making you clench down harder around his fingers as you gasp in ecstasy. 

“You’d better win out there today”, you murmur against his wet lips, tongue dwelling deep inside his hot mouth and you feel him shudder against you. “Anythin’ for you angelface”, he groans as his thumb rubs your clit feverishly. “Anything huh?” You hiccup as his fingers stretch your pretty cunt, your boyfriend nods against you. 

Feeling the familiar knot building in your stomach, you draw in a sharp breath as your hand quickens its pace on his cock. “If you win today, I’ll let you fuck me raw”, the statement falling from your lips surprises you just as much as it does him. You felt him twitch within the grasp of your hand, the thought of you granting him something like that felt almost unreal and he moaned into your mouth. 

“I’ll win, I’ll win”, he murmurs as he deepens your already messy kiss. “Fuck angel I’m-” he barely gets his warning out before he spills all over your hand, hips stuttering as his fingers inside of your freeze. — He’s barely come down from his high when he pulls himself from your lips, making you gasp as he falls to his knees, impatiently tugging your jeans down your thighs as he buries his head between them, determined to make you finish before his game. 

Taehyun is the first to greet you after the match, his shirt drenched in sweat as he clings to you, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “Ew, gross”, Beomgyu bitterly comments as he watches the two of you with distaste. Your boyfriend rolls his eyes as he leans back to press a sloppy kiss to your cheek. “Jesus Taehyun, you smell awful”, you grin as your hand on his chest prevents him from going in for seconds. 

“You wound me”, he drawls as he tugs you closer despite your greatest efforts. — Swinging his bag over his shoulder, Beomgyu’s gaze suspiciously flickers between you and Taehyun. “You guys are coming to the celebration party tonight, right?” 

Your lips part in an unspoken reply but your boyfriend beats you to the matter. “No can do”, he shrugs as his hand squeezes your waist. Beomgyu frowns as his eyes flit toward you, only to be met by an equally unenthusiastic shrug. “She owes me a kiss”, Taehyun then adds and you shoot him a glare. 

“Actually she owes me a lot of kisses.”

taglist ✎... @theresawtf @jjklvr9 @binniebakery @beomies-world @hyukaaa @ninoshome1 @gardnhee @babymochibeargyu @lunathewritingcat @duckywuckypookiepie @naoristerling @oddracha @soohashits @junimoa03 @sendhelpiloveyeonjun @beomtasticc @369girlswannadrinkwine @gudboibeomgyu @flowzel @sthwaberry @lit1esec @hwanghyunjinismybae

(if your tag is not working please check your settings to make sure that your blog is not hidden!)

→ want to get notified whenever a new dream is published? join my TAGLIST ᰔ © all rights reserved ─ @beomiracles 2024

[reiimicxii]

tbh i just dont want the dsmp to be remembered in infamy for being just a server who had criminals on there. it was so much more than just a minecraft server to me, and if it means that im the only dsmp fan lying around, so be it. i like the lore. i LOVE the characters.

i dont care if some of the cc's are assholes/just vile people, im fully separating the characters from em, because, y'know what? the characters aren't the cc's, they're fictional.

i think im gonna plan a lil project, yknow, just to send a "farewell", well, not for me, im still gonna be here lmao, but to the people who're leaving/left the fandom permanently.

to make the memory of the server not tainted by whoever was exposed for doing something vile, to make the memory of the server alive.

it's to make it less bittersweet, and more happy. im happy you were here, im happy you had those memories here. don't be sad or frustrated because it's over or some shitty cc's, be happy because it happened at all. be happy for all the experiences you had in this community.

that server was purely driven by fanworks, you made that server happen, you were apart of its success, you made that little song a whole symphony. and i wish you well on your future :)

-

also, kindly fuck off if you'd like to hate on dsmp or mcyt in general because of creeps, this server wasn't only here because of them, it was the fanbase, the songs, the animations, the art, the fanfiction.

there was a story here, tons of lore throughout hundreds of hours of livestreams on twitch. a story about war, about broken friendships, about nations falling them rising back up and then falling again, about a man wanting control, about a child soldier, about an anarchist, about so, so many things.

so many former fans that have a superiority complex where they deem themselves "better" than people who left later or are still here just because they left. you arent better than any of them, you need to learn that. you just left earlier, you cant just call yourself better than any of them.

im so sick of hearing those fucking jokes with minecraft or dsmp youtubers as the punchline, this is why so many dsmp cc's distance themselves from it. not every minecraft youtuber is a terrible person, what about grian? what about tommy? what about joel? what about scar? what about lizzie? what about tubbo? are they all just bad people apparently because they're minecraft youtubers and/or associated with the dsmp or other servers? no, they arent.

have a more open mind.

WS supporters and dream team stans also kindly go fuck off (support victims btw). i support shelby, alice, niki, lexie, caiti, andi, and freddie, get out of my page, this isnt a safe space for you. get off, go on.

-

just be happy you were here in this beautiful community to begin with :D

anyway, on a lighter note

here's a lil info about my lil project: everyones gonna have new designs / outfits for it !! :D / its an animatic thing lol

(im a lil excited abt it buttt im keeping it under wraps lol)

have a wonderful day :)

[addledmongoose]

Good Omens Fanfic Friday (12 Jul 2024)

Some light-hearted ones; some serious ones this week. Pretty wide variety of stories, though for a change, it's all canon adjacent/compliant. No human AU in the list.

There's No I in Team (But There Is in Discourse) (1K; Rated E) by @hollybennett123

Crowley invented top/bottom discourse just for a laugh, and it's getting in the way of Aziraphale's social media browsing.

***

Wise As Serpents (2.2K; Rated G) by @on1occasionfork

Aziraphale makes friends with the snakes in St. James Park.

***

Aziraphael, the Last to Fall (37K; Rated M)

Reverse Omens. I love how the characters are portrayed here. Crowley isn't just "demon!Crowley but angel". He's someone who never Fell and his attitude and behavior reflects that. Aziraphale, on the other hand, Fell for doing what he thought was a good thing, and he's not just "angel!Aziraphale but demon". His animal aspect is a moth. He's still sweet and kind and loving, but he's also sad and depressed and doesn't respect or love God. It's mostly a through-the-ages story, from their first meeting in Gomorrah until Armageddon.

It is commonly thought that when Lucifer and his followers were cast out of heaven, that this was rather the end of the whole thing, and everyone could get back to what they were supposed to be doing, such as praying, rejoicing in the glory of the Almighty, guarding trees, and so forth.

But in actuality, although it doesn’t appear in the Bible, and has, by all accounts, been rather hushed up by all parties concerned, there was one more angel who fell from grace. Not for his part in the Great Rebellion (violence, on the whole, made him feel slightly queasy, and he’d managed to be somewhere else on the day itself), but for his flagrant disobedience in following one of Her earliest commands.

In short, he gave away a sword.

***

Kidnapping A Supreme Archangel For Fun And Profit (series) (12K; Rated T) by @waitingtobebroken

Currently a two-part series. In the first story, Grand Duke of Hell Crowley kidnaps the Supreme Archangel in order to inflict vile and torturous things on him, like dragging him to a sushi restaurant and making him walk with him in the park.

In part 2, an outsider POV, Crowley's assistant Kric (Eric with a K) is tasked with acts of incredible Hellishness, like bringing flowers to the Supreme Archangel (because flowers are poisonous to humans and angels, you see) and booking restaurants so the demon lord can overfeed his nemesis. Part 2 is particularly fun, with Kric always misunderstanding Crowley's actions. The author plans one with Aziraphale's assistant's POV, which I'm looking forward to.

***

Thanks for the Memories (43K; Rated E)

Something happened in Heaven, and Crowley finds himself with an amnesiac angel on his hands. If you enjoy memory loss fics, this is a great one.

***

Stuck On You (57K; Rated E) by @zin-lynn-c

This one has been recommended a lot lately for good reason. It's a fantastic canon-adjacent story (and an explanation of where the apology dance came from).

After a drunken handfasting ceremony goes awry, Crowley and Aziraphale find themselves magically bound to be touching at all times. In order to set the situation to rights, they must embark on a multi-day journey to seek help from the last true witch in England.

***

Edit: Almost forgot about this one, which is human AU, because I copy my list from my reddit post and posted it separately.

One Life, One Love (24K; Rated M) by @thinkinginscripts

Aziraphale and Crowley are slaves living in the Akeshi capital, meeting briefly at a slave market and making an instant connection.

Crowley dreams of the two of them running away together, before Aziraphale is sold on to a new household. Crowley prays to Aziraphale's god to make him brave enough to find Crowley again.

While they're apart, Aziraphale discovers a means of escape - across the Akeshi straits. But Crowley can't swim...

[you-can-be-what-you-want-to-be]

People aren't mad because John/Arthur aren't canon, people are mad because the creator made fun of the fans that ship them in the Christmas special

I see… the post has been deleted

I’m just very used to being in bad fandoms where something as small as “I don’t ship them personally” is taken as a homophobic statement, and people have been saying forever if it’s not canon it’ll be queer bait, so I assumed which I maybe shouldn’t have done but with it coinciding with the “John is a child episode” it just made sense

now, I do have to say though, that while I don’t know a whole lot because I’m not on the Patreon, I was for awhile. Again take this with a HEAPING load of salt for that reason since I clearly don’t know the specific situation. Everything I’m going to say I will try to say from an objective viewpoint since I don’t know the situation and will only focus on the facts I do know.

But how is this new? For the karaoke creep special they keep calling it weird to call each other romantic terms. And when Arthur died by not sacrificing the little guy last season Harlan was ROUGH. He said anyone who voted to not sacrifice were children smashing dolls together, that they forgot the story they were in and hopefully this punishment would remind them that actions have consequences. He basically said this is your fault for being stupid. He ended up having to post a semi apology saying it’s eldritch horror story, it’s supposed to be about harshness and not knowing the consequences before hand, and that he teases his audience and that if they don’t like that this isn’t the right show for them. His phobia play through he did a bit as Arthur and John where he was like “and we are NOT doing anything in the shower no matter what the fan fictions say” “let them dream John”

I also would like to mention that word of god should be ignored in these stories and that Harlan does NOT have a PR team. Again I don’t know the situation. I don’t know if he was ad libing live, in which case he should be given more Lee way as self editing in the moment is hard, I don’t know how if he said the most vile stuff alive, or if he said something a little mean but harmless like the “no we are not doing this” “let them dream” or what. Maybe it is bad and he deserves to be roasted, idk.But making jokes about a non canon thing can be a normal thing, especially if it’s a thing people keep bugging you about.

I do know that fandom as a whole has a problem attacking people over though, being someone who frequently got called homophobic for headcanoning single characters as aro, this one specifically has already harassed him about this ship which I’m sure gets annoying, and that he has explicitly said he will poke fun on the Patreon, and that he has said Jarthur won’t happen, and that he is one guy without the means to sort through hate mail removed from situations and doesn’t have a PR team to tell him “hey this off the cuff joke is a bad idea”

all that being said, again I do not know what he said specifically. I think either way a lot of people need to reassess if this is the fandom for them. I’ve seen a lot of people only get into the show for shipping and then get mad when there’s eldritch horror and the attitudes of eldritch horror in the eldritch horror podcast. If he said something that bad then maybe consider getting out since he writes about delicate subjects and it will only get worse. If what he said wasn’t that bad and people are getting mad about being lightly teased but it wasn’t confrontational or homophobic, they might want to leave because that’s just what Harlan does, tease people, and it’s not new and will continue, especially about non canon stuff in his own work. And if you got into and are only staying for the shipping…. Yeah. If that’s the only thing you want maybe it’s time to move on.

and if you decide to stay, know that. Know and be warned ahead of time that you will be teased so it isn’t a surprise next time

edit: so I did get the full context quote and it’s literally just “we want to hang out together alone for Christmas” “platonically, as in canon” “oh of course of course.” This. This isn’t bullying. It’s a little tongue in cheek sure but the whole thing is just saying it isn’t canon. I’ve heard complaints on comments on this post about other stuff he’s done, which I don’t know much about but is also applicable. I did my best to say “either way, this is stuff related.” As someone who writes and has written things before where every single chapter people kept pushing for something I wasn’t going to write I get it. I’m not saying anything he might have done is right but I think it’s understandable at the very least, for a writer to be upset about his stuff being constantly misinterpreted and having fans try to push it where he doesn’t want it.

him reminding people it won’t happen is fine, especially when people keep accusing him of queer baiting. I still think what I said earlier stands even hearing other opinions, because although I can’t say either way, it seems like everyone who is upset says this is a repeated behavior, and if you stay you can’t be surprised by it every time. If it’s going to bug you you have to either be prepared for it to keep happening or leave.

That isn’t to say no one can be upset about anything else but this specific thing I don’t think is worthy of that. All he did was jokingly repeat canon in character (which is much better than like. Someone who keeps hinting at something and never giving it) in a teasing manner. He didn’t say anything negative about shippers, or anything homophobic, just said “hey remember kids, we aren’t into each other like that.” Which is. Fine. It’s annoying but it isn’t malicious.

If the issue is mods or his interactions with people say that. Don’t make it about him light heartedly going “don’t accuse me of queerbaiting.” it makes it so when actual issues like what people are talking about in the comments (if they’re legit, again I try to stay only in the actual content part and abstain from knowing about creators) come up no one takes them seriously because so many molehills were mountained.

If you’re pissed about how he talks to his fans say that, don’t make it about a lack of queer rep when he said day one there wouldn’t be any. Make it about the issue itself. You don’t mention that someone’s a domestic abuser for example after you say “and they have NO CHEESE in their house thats MONSTROUS who does that.” If you want to be taken seriously about a problem you focus on the thing that matters which is. Hurting people.

I guess at the end of the day I’m no one’s boss, but I am tired of not knowing what to believe or not when someone saying something like “no comment” on if characters they wrote are together is homophobia, or a character who’s been Described as a dick acting like one and then the creator gets accused of being shitty (random examples not to do with this specific fandom). If everything is a big deal that makes someone the worst when the subject is not actually hurting anyone… it’s exhausting. Idk anything about Harlan. At the end of the day I’m here for my little horror stories. But I will say definitively that I don’t think it’s bullying to say a ship is not canon and that to act like it is makes it impossible for people who actually care about morals and what someone is doing to keep the energy to stay that way without becoming part of a mob just taking people at their word.

If it upset you I’m sorry, it’s always disappointing when our take on media is dismissed, especially by the creator. And it’s fine to be disappointed. I get that. But don’t blow it out of proportion, and don’t make it about something it isn’t. If you’re upset about the quote say that it’s disappointing without saying it’s punching down. The author is dead and it’s one of the biggest podcast ships out there. If you’re upset about anything else make a post about that issue without tying it to this fun bonus non canon episode. You are allowed to be upset just and if it is about shipping: stop making someone disagreeing with you about a ship a big controversy. You can ship whatever you want regardless of canon and no one is trying to stop jarthur shippers, and if it isn’t about that stop making things about shipping if that’s not what it’s actually about.