#Waiting for a battle that will never come

[yoongelectric]

On your own — LN4

— you can do it on your own while you’re looking at me

genre: smut (just a little bit of angst and fluff)

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

warnings: switch!lando, switch!reader, pet names, make up sex, p in v, mutual masturbation, orgasm denial, unprotected sex, they just can’t resist each other

english isn’t my first language, no proof read

- after spending a day alone, all needy and touch deprived you decided to punish your boyfriend

The first rays of sun of the day interrupted your sleep, and after a lot of useless shifting around the bed you finally accepted that you wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep, as you reached for your boyfriend to say your good mornings and cuddle for a bit before getting up, you were surprised to find only empty and cold sheets. confused by his absence you checked your phone in search of any signs of his whereabouts, but you didn’t find a single message.

As you got up, the cold winter air brushed your bare legs, and as you walked to the kitchen, the empty house made you feel more and more needy of affection.

Hours passed and you still had no news or messages from Lando, you understood that he didn't have to spend his vacation glued to you and that he was probably having a good time with his friends, but you felt neglected, he wasn’t answering any of your phone calls and he hadn't even woken you up to tell you that he was leaving. and the worst part was the internal battle between your anger because of how thoughtless he was being, your worry that something might had happen to him, and the need for touch that was growing in you was killing you.

Just as you were about to call him again you heard the sound of keys in the door, indicating that Lando had arrived home

“Hi, honey” he said trying to kiss you, a kiss you were quick to dodge as you stood up from the couch and walked to the room giving him the silent treatment.

“how mature y/n” you thought to yourself, you knew this wasn’t the right way to solve this problem but sometimes a girl just wants to be showered with attention, so you just waited in your bed for Lando to come beg for forgiveness

you heard your boyfriends hurried footsteps before he appeared at the door

“baby, i’m so sorry, i meant to text you but my phone died as soon as i left, i didn’t mean to get you worried” he said carefully sitting on the bed next to you

“You could have woken me up to tell me where you were going, I don't even know where you were all day”. You were trying really hard to keep up your angry appearance but having him next to you after waiting for him all day was getting to you.

“y/n, i really am sorry, i didn't wake you up because i know how tired you've been these last few days and you looked very peaceful sleeping, i didn't have the strength to wake you up, my love. Max asked me to go with him to buy a gift for Pietra’s birthday, then we went to have lunch, i guess one thing led to another and I lost track of time”

You decided that was enough anger for the day and you gave him a soft smile “did you only buy gifts for Pietra?” you said half jokingly

Lando laughed, holding your face in his hands and taking that kiss he had wanted so much since he had arrived at your home

“you know i never forget about you, beautiful” He said, handing you a bag you didn't know where he had hidden. You carefully opened it, finding the dress you’ve been wanting for months, it was on your wishlist since it came out and every time you went shopping with Lando you looked at it for so long, too embarrassed to ask him to buy it for you.

“how did you know i wanted this?” you said unable to hide your joy

“i just know you so well, baby” Lando said kissing you again, this time much bolder and confident

You melted in his arms, with no hope of being able to resist him for another second, sometimes you get angry at yourself for how much at his mercy you are. but this time he had really screwed up, you couldn't just let this happen, that’s you felt like a light bulb had gone on in your head.

You straddled him, grabbed his hair and kissed him with the same intensity, until you felt him tense under your touch, you began to move your hips slow and hard on him and when you felt his erection grow beneath you, you mumbled on his lips “i see you missed me too, love” going down to kiss his neck

“mmhm baby, i need you so bad, been thinking about you all d-ay” He was having trouble putting his words together and that gave you the signal that it was time to play with him a little

“you know it’ll take a little more for me to forgive you, right?” you stood up and started taking of your top, surprising him with your bare chest since you weren’t wearing a bra

“i know, pretty, come here i’ll make it up to you i promise” he said taking his pants off and pulling you so you would sit in his lap again, and oh god how tempting it was to just give in

“you don’t deserve that, Lando, i’m afraid you won’t get to touch me today, baby, so just touch yourself” you saw how Lando opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out “go on, love, do it for me”

Seeing him hesitate, you licked your fingers slowly and started to play with your nipples, just the way he would, it didn't feel as good, but just to turn him on more you started to moan softly, moving your hips back and forth on the bed.

you were teasing and touching yourself but even though it felt good, what was really getting you worked up was seeing him fight against touching his painfully hard dick

“y/n please, don’t do this baby, i want you so bad please just touch me” he was starting to get desperate and to push him further to the edge you started giving him wet kisses up his thighs, very close to where he wanted them most but without getting there “fuck, you’re gonna kill me one day” he finally gave in, wrapping his hand over his swollen member

You watched him go up and down with his hand, you heard his moans and grunts and they only turned you on more and more. You were finally seeing in all its glory the effect you had on him and you were becoming addicted to that feeling. As you were feeling brave, you decided to experiment, so you leaned over him and spit on his cock just to see his reaction. Lando had to gather all his strength not to cum in that moment, his entire body trembled and tensed at your action, you were driving him crazy and although he wasn't going to admit it, maybe he was enjoying this more than you.

this was probably the most turned on you’ve ever been and when you couldn't take it anymore, you decided to take off your shorts and show him how wet you were “i want you to fuck me so bad, baby - a moan escaped your mouth- it’s a shame that you were so bad to me today”

“y/n fuck fuck fuck- you saw the tip of his member, angry red, and you swore you were drooling- don’t do this to me baby, i’ll make you feel so good, let me taste you please, i need you” he was just so close to cumming but he had to hold it, he needed you, he didn’t care if it was your hands, your mouth or your wet and warm pussy, he wanted you and only you

you fingered yourself and played with your clit at the same time and with how turned on you were you pushed yourself over the edge embarrassingly quick, there was just one problem, you just couldn’t cum, you never had that problem, when lando was away you did what had to be done, but watching him so needy in front of you, all sweaty and bothered just for you, just for watching you, was making it impossible for you to finish without him

“fuck, love, please, i’m gonna cum” you heard him say, pulling yourself out of your thoughts, you saw him squeeze his eyes shut, mouth slightly open and you felt so bad but you just had to interrupt him

“no, you won’t” he opened his eyes, his face a mixture of pain and disbelief, you slapped his hand softly so he would let go of himself and straddled him again, sitting on his dick in one swift motion, you were grateful that you didn’t have any neighbours nearby because the moan the two of you left was sinful

“love, i hope you had fun with your little game because you’re gonna be so sorry” he said grabbing your hips hard and slamming you against him without mercy, so delicious, just the way you liked, it felt so good you couldn’t think, you didn’t even hear yourself, the only thing you knew is that you were screaming his name again and again

You don't know when or how, you didn't even feel it building, but from one moment to another the two of you were reaching your climax stronger than ever in your lives, as you came down from your high you heard your boyfriend whispering sweet nothings and compliments in your ear, you were ready for a long session of aftercare when you felt him flipping you both so he was on top of you

“did you think i was done with you, princess?”

and with that you knew he was making up for all the lost time.

[mixingandmelting]

Grocery Shopping

Summary: he goes grocery shopping with you for the first time

A/N: Damian's a little shorter considering his age and it would become a whole fic on it's own to talk what would happen with him 😂

Dick:

It’ll be fine, he said. Things will still go well, he said. He tried everything with you, keeping your hands in his, linking arms, keeping you between the cart and himself.  No matter what you both did, without fail, he ends up getting separated from you, quite tragically he might add. Now look at him, benched on one of the benches in the middle of the store in the result of getting lost who-knows-how-many-times from searching for you in the sea of people (all puns intended). 

Okay, so maybe he should’ve listened to you about never going to the store on the last day of sales. And all the other rules he had brushed off when you told him. However, he didn’t think the store would be  this  jammed packed with people treating it as a battle ground. There’s not a single villain in sight. No signs of foul play. Yet there’s civilians elbowing each other, fighting with their lives on the line.

“Is this, you know, normal???” 

“What do you mean? Have you ever shopped for groceries before?” 

He lets out a puff of air in frustration. This was supposed to be a couple’s date. One of those cozy-esque ones where he gets to spend more time with you in a normal setting. 

But It’s okay. He’s okay. You’ll be back soon and he’ll at least get to cuddle with you when waiting at the line that snakes from one to another corner of the store. Right? So let’s just hope no else finds out about this.

Cue his phone vibrating. Please don’t be what he thinks it is. Please don’t be what he think it is. He opens the text. 

… Dammit all. 

Of course it’s Tim asking if the person on the bench was him. Who else would attach a low res picture that’s obviously from the security camera ? In the group chat of all places too. Slowly he places his phone in his lap and rests his head on the cart. Never is he ever going to ignore those rules again. 

Jason:

He utterly underestimated the whole thing. He has to physically push and shove through people to take a step forward with a cart. He keeps having mini-heart attacks the second the warmth of your hands around his arm disappears from the fear of losing you, only for you to reappear next him with food and toiletries. At least he doesn’t have to worry about people putting their hands and taking stuff from the two of you as everyone so far quickly got second thoughts as soon as they took a glance at him. 

But the worst part wasn’t this. Rather-

“Hey! Watch where you’re going, pal!”

He leans over the handle, groaning as he rubs his face with his hands. Ugh. Just how many times does this make? Standing back up, he turns around and throws the same glare he’s already given to the five other guys he accidentally bumped shoulders with. And like them, this guy too flinches as he crane his head up from Jason towering over him. Then comes the stuttering “my bad” before booking it with his girl in tow. Tt. Pathetic. 

In his head, he realizes two things: one, you’re always right, and two, never suggest grocery shopping on a weekend afternoon. It explains why you were so irritated when he did and now? He’s going to lose it if anything, ANYTHING, happens at the cashier line (he saw how long it was when entering the store. It’s going to be at least an hour of waiting to even get close to the front). 

“Jason! Hurry up!”

Snapping his head towards the direction of your voice and he has so many questions. Since when did you grab the rest of the groceries? How did you get the other end of the store that quickly? 

With that, he sighs and quickly heads towards you, worried your arms might fall off or you getting hurt in general from how you’re trying to hold everything without dropping a single item. 

Tim:

He’s educated. He’s done his research on grocery shopping and knows the rules and what's in each aisle. So trust him to choose a time where it’s not too early and there aren't a lot of people, in hopes he could fulfill the couple’s goal of having wholesome bonding moments. But of course, putting what’s theoretical into real practice comes with a challenge. 

“Why is the cheese in the meat section?”

“Who places cereal next to the chips?”

“Is it even legal to have soda in the alcohol aisle???” 

This was not what was written on the blueprints. Breakfast aisle is meant to have breakfast foods, snacks aisle having the chips, and for fuck sake, is cheese not dairy? He was already concerned about how easily he cracked through security and accessed the blueprints. Now he’s wondering how in the world this store is functioning at all. There’s nothing special they’re selling nor are the prices cheaper. He genuinely can’t see why this place ranks so high in Gotham among the other grocery stores. 

The only reason for him to stay somewhat sane is your presence. Sticking right next to him where shoulders continually brush against each other whenever you two walk and sometimes placing a hand over his to placate him whenever he’s getting close. He appreciates it at the same time not whenever he catches you turning your head away from him. The tips of his ears burn but at least you’re trying stifle your laughter. 

“Come on, we’re almost done.” 

With a thud, his eyes widen when he recognizes the familiar logo on the case you dropped into the cart. Eyes going back between you and the case, he tears up as he finds out you’re the one that’s been restocking his energy drink with his favorite brand and flavor. He proceeds to nuzzle his cheek against your shoulder, thinking grocery shopping wasn’t so bad after all. 

Duke:

Many in the family other than Alfred don't understand nor appreciate the art of grocery shopping. But him? He knows the rules. Don’t get groceries on a weekend. Buy them in the morning rather than the afternoon. Fresh produce last, boxed and canned food first. Like please, he’s done it so many times that it’s a walk in a park. He even knows the go-to brands and their knockoffs if the store runs out of the former.

Shopping with you, there’s no hesitation when he turns the cart, heading towards the direction of the next destination for the next thing on the list. He weaves through the few people in the store while keeping your hand between his and the cart’s handle. At some point, joining you in inspecting and picking out which of the packaged food and produce to get. 

“Did you get the Spaghetti?” 

“Yeah, but you cool if we get this brand? It practically tastes the same as the other one and it’s buy-one-get-one free.” 

From how everything’s going with a breeze, he does all sorts of couple’s shopping shenanigans with you. Pushing you on the cart with your arms out like Superman, racing you to the end of the aisle. The only “problem” he would say the two of you are having at the moment are over snacks and soda. It started out with him preferring double-stuffed Oreos while you insisted Thin-Mints were better. Then the classic Pepsi vs Coca-Cola. 

“Tell me, are you going to eat my fruit snacks?” 

You’re holding a box of fruit snacks and shaking them in the air, waiting for him to give you the actual answer. So far, he’s been exercising his rights to remain silent by keeping his head turned away from you, shuffling side to side. And it’s helping him win, snorting when you huff and dramatically roll your eyes in annoyance before tossing them into the cart. Nice.

Damian: 

Everyone always assumes he doesn’t understand nor know what grocery shopping is. Oh, but how wrong they are. Grocery shopping with him could easily equate to being on a mission. He goes to your place and wakes you up at 7:17 AM on a Wednesday morning, demanding you get ready to go out while ignoring all your questions and protests about being woken up at an ungodly hour, on a day-off from school nonetheless. It’s as if he’s done grocery shopping his whole life, getting nit-picky over the quality of the fruit and vegetables while checking expiration dates on the back of the box of tea before placing them into the cart. 

It seems as if he’s being inconsiderate, expecting you to keep up with him while he’s trying to get done as efficiently as he can. In reality, he’s only trying to impress you with his vast knowledge and skills. Think of it as talking to someone who can identify fake versus real Prada bags. He’s dropping hints on how to tell if the eggs are fresh or not based on the shells, which bag of onions are the oldest. Comes off pretentious however, all with good intentions. Well, and also to impress you in his skills of knowing how to shop for groceries. But that's meh. 

Don’t think he isn’t noticing you sneaking things into the cart. He’s simply choosing to turn a blind eye to it, though his heart string twings when he recognizes half of them are his favorites. When you come back from who knows where, he grabs your hand and keeps it in his hand without a word, earning a grin from you while his cheeks turn dusty pink.

[bloomzone]

2025 : #17 THE ULTIMATE GUIDE ABOUT PROCRASTINATION

✒️.Procrastination is more than just putting things off as all "procrastination definition" says . It’s an internal BATTLE or WAR against your own brain. When you procrastinate you're not just delaying a task you’re delaying PROGRESS. The longer you wait the harder it gets so yeah It's an endless loop of guilt stress and self-sabotage. But what if you could break that cycle? What if you could stop hiding from your tasks and actually face them head-on? but ..

ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀʟ ᴘʀᴏʙʟᴇᴍ ɪs ᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀᴠᴏɪᴅɪɴɢ ᴅɪsᴄᴏᴍғᴏʀᴛ

Think about why you procrastinate. It’s not because you’re lazy it’s because you’re avoiding discomfort cuz Every time you put something off, it’s because your brain perceives that task as a threat to your comfort zone. Whether it’s a project at work, school assignments, or even cleaning your room, the thought of doing it brings up feelings of discomfort, stress, and anxiety. So, your brain tells you, “ hell nah bro just put it off. do something else that feels better right now.”

the reality is that DISCOMFORT is part of the PROCESS. You don’t have to feel good to do the work In fact the more you put things off to avoid feeling uncomfortable the harder and more uncomfortable it will become later. But if you can get comfortable with discomfort, you’ll realize that starting is half the battle. Once you take the first step the rest follows.

ᴜɴᴅᴇʀsᴛᴀɴᴅɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍɪɴᴅ ᴏғ ᴀ ᴘʀᴏᴄʀᴀsᴛɪɴᴀᴛᴏʀ

procrastination is about “fear and avoidance.” You fear failure, you fear not doing a task perfectly, and you fear not measuring up to your own or others' expectations. This fear triggers the avoidance mechanism in your brain your limbic system, the emotional part of your brain that seeks to protect you from discomfort. This makes it hard to make decisions or take action when the task feels overwhelming.

Your rational brain knows you need to get the work done HE TRY TO WAKE UP U but the emotional brain doesn’t care. It wants relief and it wants it now. So, you find yourself scrolling on your phone, watching another episode, or simply zoning out (like me). The task doesn’t disappear it only grows more daunting. The longer you avoid it the worse it feels. That’s why procrastination feels like a snowball effect

ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏsᴛ ᴏғ ᴘʀᴏᴄʀᴀsᴛɪɴᴀᴛɪᴏɴ: ᴡʜʏ ɪᴛ ʜᴜʀᴛs

Every time you procrastinate, you’re paying a price. The cost is MENTAL and EMOTIONAL exhaustion. The weight of the task sits in the back of your mind nagging at you. You feel guilt, shame, and frustration for not taking action. And then that stress builds up over time.Procrastination also eats up your time. The more time you waste avoiding, the less time you have to actually get things done. When you finally force yourself to sit down and work, you have less energy and less time to do it well. This leads to rushed, sloppy work, and the cycle continues. It’s a trap that leads to more stress and anxiety. It’s like digging a hole for yourself each moment you wait, the hole gets deeper.

ᴛʜᴇ ʜɪᴅᴅᴇɴ ɪᴍᴘᴀᴄᴛ: sᴇʟғ-sᴀʙᴏᴛᴀɢᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʟᴏᴡ sᴇʟғ-ᴡᴏʀᴛʜ

Procrastination can also impact your self-esteem (this is sick) Every time you delay, you reinforce the belief that you're not good enough or that you can’t manage your responsibilities. Over time, procrastination can feed into self-doubt. You start thinking, "I’m just not the kind of person who gets things done" or "I’ll never be able to accomplish my goals." So procrastination is a form of self-sabotage. You’re stopping yourself from reaching your potential. You have dreams, you have goals, but procrastination convinces you that you’re not worthy of success or that you don’t deserve to put in the effort.

ʜᴏᴡ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴠᴇʀᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴘʀᴏᴄʀᴀsᴛɪɴᴀᴛɪᴏɴ : ᴏᴘᴇɴ ᴜʀ ᴍɪɴᴅ ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ᴛʜɪs !

1. Stop Waiting for Motivation.

Motivation isn’t something that just magically appears when you need it. It comes after you start doing the work, not before. You can’t wait for motivation to strike u have to create it

So How? By taking the first step, however small. Set a timer for 5 minutes, sit down, and start. Action creates motivation.

2. Break Tasks Into Bite-Sized Pieces.

When a task feels huge, it becomes overwhelming, and that's when procrastination sets in. Instead of thinking about the entire project, break it down into smaller, manageable parts. Want to write an essay? Start by writing one paragraph. Want to clean your room? Tackle one section. Small wins lead to bigger wins. Each time you check something off, it builds momentum.

3. Eliminate Distractions.

Procrastination thrives on distractions. The phone, the TV, social media they’re all little traps that pull you away from what needs to be done. Set boundaries. Turn off notifications, put your phone on airplane mode, and create a space where you can focus without interruptions. The goal isn’t perfection, but efficiency. SO THROW UR PHONE AWAY

4. Don’t Wait for the "Right" Time.

There’s never going to be a “perfect” time to start. You’re never going to feel 100% ready. The trick is to get started even when you don’t feel like it. The longer you wait for the “right moment,” the longer the task stays on your to-do list. Start before you’re ready. Trust that you can figure it out as you go.(Like those ppl who have an exam in a Monday and they wait until the perfect time 🤭 and the perfect time become a Sunday night 🥶)

5. Embrace Imperfection.

Perfectionism is procrastination’s best friend. You keep delaying because you want everything to be perfect. But hear me out : done is better than perfect. The task doesn’t need to be flawless; it needs to be completed. You can always improve it later, but only if you take action now.as long as u put effort

ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴏᴡᴇʀ ᴏғ ᴀᴄᴄᴏᴜɴᴛᴀʙɪʟɪᴛʏ : ʙʏᴏʙ 📢

Sometimes, the best way to break the procrastination cycle is to hold yourself accountable. Tell someone what you’re working on. Whether it’s a friend, a family member, or even a colleague, let them know your goals. When you have someone checking in on your progress, it creates a sense of urgency. If you're someone who struggles with motivation, having external accountability can push you to stop procrastinating and get things done.

ᴏᴠᴇʀᴄᴏᴍɪɴɢ ɢᴜɪʟᴛ ᴀɴᴅ sᴛᴀʀᴛɪɴɢ ғʀᴇsʜ

It’s easy to get stuck in a cycle of guilt. You feel bad for procrastinating, which makes you procrastinate even more. But guilt is not helpful. It’s normal to slip up or delay things. What matters is that you get back on track. Forgive yourself. Don’t let the guilt weigh you down please please please Instead, focus on the task at hand. Take that first step . Break through the resistance

ᴛʜᴇ ᴋᴇʏ ᴛᴏ sᴜᴄᴄᴇss: ᴄᴏɴsɪsᴛᴇɴᴄᴇ

Procrastination is not something you can “cure” overnight. It’s a habit, and habits take time to change. The goal isn’t to be perfect every time it’s to be consistent. The more consistent you are with taking action, the easier it becomes to fight procrastination. Slowly, you’ll start building momentum, and before you know it, you’ll be taking action without second-guessing yourself. (for example set a challenge of one week without procrastination and u will see change)

AT THE END IT'S UR CHOSE : DISCOMFORT TO SUCCESS OR COMFORT TO FAIL

It’s not going to be easy. But you’ve got this AAAAAAH . The pain of procrastination will always be worse than the pain of getting started. Take control, start small, and build from there. Procrastination may try to convince you it’s too hard but you’re stronger than that. Start now, and watch the weight of procrastination lift off your shoulders.

@bloomzone 📇

[jd-loves-fiction]

Hi, is it possible to make a request with Mydei and (fem) Reader, who is from Astral Express, but her fighting style is related to pistols (for example, look at Carlotta's gameplay from Wuthering Wave's). Reader manages to be elegant in battle, which slightly irritates Mydei, so he makes fun of her, but she does not lag behind and responds in kind. Thanks in advance ❤️

🌑ooh Carlotta's fighting style is everything and very kookoo about Mydei PERFECT!! :D (very short :()

Damned outworlders and their machinery. Loud and attention grabbing, forcing Mydei to look away from the opponent in front of him and in your direction just in time to see you gracefully avoid getting your head chopped off before shooting the perpetrator in the face.

Definitely not because he himself cannot help but glance your way be it in battle or out of it. Though the moment he’s caught staring he’s quick to give some lazy excuse about how you’re too showy or something of that kind – says the half naked man.

“53!” Mydei exclaims triumphantly, “How about you?” he shouts just as you swiftly take down another enemy.

“57 and are we really still doing this? You’ll only get your ego bruised when you inevitably lose to me, like I warned you.” You reply smugly, but you can't deny your excitement at the stiff competition – though the words would never leave your lips.

“I wasn't aware you possessed the power of clairvoyance. Though if you do, I suspect it’s a faulty imitation of the real thing – for I will be the obvious victor.” He states proudly, slashing down every enemy that comes too close.

“Don't your shoulders hurt from carrying your huge ego around?”

Mydei’s eyes narrow deviously, turning in your direction with a wide smirk split across his face – nothing good on his mind, to be sure, “They do, now that you mention it. Want to give me a hand?”

His lion’s eyes zero in on you, razor focused, waiting to see your amusing reaction to his usual teasing.

A bullet whizzes just past his ear, grazing his blond locks, following the sound of a gunshot, barrel pointed in his direction, “There's your helping hand.”

Mydei scowls in response, thanking every god he knows that you're alone or else he'd never hear the end of it. Though he's sure Phainon will hear of it soon enough.Damned outworlders and their machinery and their sharp tongues and graceful movements… damn them for sending his heart aflutter so easily.

[ebsmind]

⏾ SOMEWHERE IN THE HAZE, GOT A SENSE I'VE BEEN BETRAYED | jack hughes x singer!reader

summary : how y/n found out vince cheated the first time

word count : 1.3k

warning(s) : cheating (poor baby y/n ☹️), arguing, mentions of k wording Vince, Vince is a fucking asshole (sorry lol), crying (i hate to see my baby sad)

a/n : AHHHHHHH okay okay this is my first written part and I hope I did it justice bc as much as I love angst, it's hard to write it! anyways, I'm glad I decided to do this because it challenges me to not only go deeper for yall to understand reader it also kinda makes you see what she had to put up with (what the fuck vince) okay that's all I had to say! send me asks about this series bc I love talking about teehee OKAY BYE ILY

series masterlist

The stars glisten upon the midnight-colored skies. The clock that sits on your nightstand on the right side of the bed, has officially struck midnight, signifying a new day. You turn a page of the book you're reading, And Then There Were None by Agatha Christie, a re-read. The early January winds whip through the city of Seattle. Draped upon you is a lavender-colored fuzzy knitted blanket. Handmade by Vince's mom, Tracy.

In the far distance, you can hear the water leaving the showerhead; Vince is taking a shower. The thought of joining him crosses your mind, but you shake the thought away and continue reading. You go to turn the 129th page, but Vince's phone dings before the next page is revealed. It takes a small fragment of a moment for your eyes to find where it sits. Once you do, you make a B-line to its location. You don't notice how his phone was placed face down until you reach the dresser.

Your eyes burn holes into the back of the phone. The clock is ticking. The more time passes, the less time you have to decide whether or not you're going to snoop through your boyfriend's phone. Your internal dialogue fights between two actions: Pick up the phone and read the text messages waiting for a response, or ignore it and continue reading your book. The little devil on your right shoulder wins the battle.

Before you even think about any consequences if Vince were to catch you, you find your right hand already reaching for the phone. The screen illuminates your face, reflecting against the blue lenses that sit across the bridge of your nose. The first thing you notice is the time, 12:34 am. Who in the hell is texting him at this time? The second thing you notice is how Vince no longer has you as his lock screen. Instead, you're faced with a picture of him on a golf course with some of his buddies. If it weren't for the worry about who was texting Vince this late a night, you probably would have cared. The third and final thing you notice is the simple "D" that had given him a notification four minutes ago. You don't have to unlock Vince's phone to read the message, FaceID recognized your face the moment you picked up the phone.

D

goodnight, can't wait to see you tomorrow 💋

*one image*

Waves of anxiety hit you like a tsunami. You reread the text message over and over, thinking that it'll change every time your eyes scan the last half of the message. It's imprinted into your mind, no matter how hard you try, it will never go away. The thought of pressing the message to fully see the picture makes bile rise up in your throat. Knowing it most likely contained some type of nude picture. Whether it was a picture of some nice expensive midnight blue lingerie, maybe even clear water teal, or a picture of the girl's tits, it was going to taint you for eternity. You weren't stupid. Things like this happen to stupid girls, but not you. It couldn't.

You don't hear the water coming to an abrupt stop or Vince walk into the room until he questions what you're doing. "Why do you have my phone?"

Your head whips up to where Vince stands, at the door frame that connects his master bedroom to the master bathroom. His light caramel curls rest on his forehead, beads of water drip down his chest, and his right hand rests on the knot in the towel that's wrapped around his waist. You don't realize the tears that started falling just moments ago until Vince asks, "Why are you crying?"

The gut-wrenching sadness you once felt slowly simmers down and a deep rust color of rage clouds your vision. Without delay, you chuck Vince's phone at his chest and scoff.

"Why do you fucking think?" You wipe the tears that stream down your face with the sleeve of your cream-colored cotton long sleeve, mascara ruins the once-clean shirt. Vince contemplates whether he wants to deny or openly be truthful with you, he unfortunately chooses the first option.

"Babe, come on!" He looks away from the lasers that are practically coming out of your eyes. He knows deep down he's screwed.

"No, Vince! You fucking listen to me! You better be so fucking grateful that I leave first thing in the morning because I'd probably kill you if I didn't!" Lungs working overtime so you can get all of that out in one go. Vince still stands at the doorframe, he doesn't plan on moving anytime soon.

"Who is she?" The question leaves your mouth under a breath, afraid of the answer that might leave Vince's mouth.

"I'm not telling you that." It leaves Vince's mouth at lightning speed, but you move even faster. Your feet carry you rapidly to where Vince stands, once he's in arm's reach, your hands start hitting his chest. You switch between curling your hands into a fist and punching, to slapping his chest. Uncontrollable sobs leave the depths of your chest, and tears cloud your vision to the point where you can only make out the silhouette of the man you never would have thought would betray you.

"I lo-lo-loved you! An-and you d-d-do this to me?!" Your sobs interrupt your ability to say the sentence in one go. Your body finally begins to feel the heartbreak. Your chest and nostrils burn, your head finally starts to pound, and your legs start to feel like jelly. Letting the sobs control your body and legs giving out, you finally accept defeat.

Your eyes close and you start to drop to the ground, this is a fight you aren't going to win. You wait for your body to hit the ground but it never comes, instead you're met with Vince's damp hands on your arms. He steadies you, "Woah, hey there. You're okay I got you."

Wasting no time, you shove the 6'0 man off of you, and before he can say anything else you spit out, "Don't fucking touch me."

Vince puts his hands up in defeat, "Okay! okay, I won't." Following Vince's response, you dash your way to the front door. The professional hockey player follows hot in your trail.

"Hey hey hey! Where are you going?" He tries to grab a hold of your shoulder to turn you around, your reflexes do you wonder and you shove his hand with all the willpower you have left. Disregarding Vince's question, you take your purse and suitcase -which had been placed right next to the door after you finished packing before you got into bed.

"I'm staying at a hotel for the night." Exhaustion hits your body, a bed -not Vince's- sounds amazing right now.

"No, stay. You leave in the morning."

"I'd rather be in some cheap hotel than spend another night with you." The backhanded comment leaves the boy stunned, you take it as your chance to finally leave. You unlock the door and guide your suitcase to follow you out the door. Vince never intervenes. You don't even bother looking back when you slam the door in his face.

Adrenaline courses through your veins, it doesn't dissipate until you're sat on a hotel bed. The mattress is hard, but you've gotten used to it when touring throughout your career. You take notice that the comforter won't do you any justice during the night but that isn't the first thing that's disappointed you today. Tears that stopped falling start to pour again, your chest aches and your heart feels like it's missing. You take a moment to finally acknowledge everything that had happened 25 minutes ago, and once you forcefully come to terms with it, you fall into a deep sleep. Not noticing the 64 missed calls and messages from Vince.

[skeletonpartyoftwo]

Platonic Yandere Zombie

the world had changed overnight. What once felt like a routine of mundane days was now a crumbling wreck of chaos and fear. You'd learned the hard way that trust was rare, and those who remained had to cling to each other like survivors in a shipwrecked storm. It was in this apocalypse that you met him— him, the zombie who wasn’t like the others.

At first, you thought he was just another mindless creature, but his eyes—they held something else. Humanity, buried beneath layers of decay and rot. He didn’t lunge for you like the others. No, instead, his gaze followed you with a sort of cautious curiosity. You had learned to avoid the infected, but something about him felt different, like he was still... waiting for something.

Over time, you realized he wasn’t a threat—not to you, at least. He would follow from a distance, keeping pace with your movements. Sometimes, when you found food, he would silently stand by, watching, waiting, as if unsure whether to approach. You never let him near, not wanting to take any risks, but you’d occasionally leave small scraps of food near him, watching as he would greedily eat. Maybe it was some form of respect between two creatures left on the brink of extinction.

You could never understand why he acted the way he did, but in the stillness of the night, when the world around you was deathly quiet, you’d sometimes hear a low, gravelly sound—a sort of groan that wasn’t one of hunger or rage. It was something else. A plea. Or maybe an understanding. You weren’t sure.

You had no idea what the future held for the two of you, but you found comfort in his silent company, knowing that there was something pure in his strange, broken existence. Even in the apocalypse, where every day felt like a battle for survival, you weren’t alone. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The night had fallen heavy, the kind of quiet that set the air thick with unease. You weren’t sure if it was the dark or the eerie feeling that crept up your spine, but something didn’t feel right. The sounds of the world outside the remnants of the abandoned building were too still. You’d been scavenging alone for the better part of the afternoon, trying to find anything useful for the coming days, but your luck had run out when you ventured a little too far.

There was a growl. Low at first, but unmistakable—the sound of something hungry.

Your heart raced as you glanced over your shoulder, and you cursed under your breath. A small group of infected had stumbled into your path, eyes glassy with the unmistakable hunger of the mindless. They were slow but relentless, shambling closer as you backed up into a corner of the wreckage. You had no way out.

Your hands shook as you pulled out the small knife you had left, knowing it wouldn't do much but buy you a few moments of time. Sweat beaded on your forehead, and you instinctively looked for any possible escape route. There was none.

Then, you heard it—the unmistakable sound of slow, heavy footsteps. Not from the infected, but from something else.

Through the dim light, you could just make out a figure standing in the doorway, a hulking silhouette in the shadows. His eyes glowed faintly, an eerie amber hue in the night. He hadn’t followed you in, not yet. But he was there—watching. The zombie, the one you’d come to think of as your strange companion, was standing at the edge of the room, a safe distance away, his rotting body frozen as he observed the situation.

Your breath caught in your throat. Panic set in as the infected grew closer. You weren’t going to make it. Not without a miracle.

But then—something shifted. The zombie moved.

He lunged forward with a speed that didn’t seem possible for his decaying body. The infected nearest to you turned with a screech, distracted by the powerful grip he locked onto the closest one’s throat. With a swift motion, he tore into it, blood splattering in the dim light as he threw the body aside. His movements weren’t graceful, but they were furious, driven by some primal instinct.

The rest of the infected hesitated for a moment, unsure what to make of this sudden and unusual threat, but then they advanced, hungry as ever. You didn’t have time to wonder why he was doing this. With a sudden snarl, he threw himself into the fray, his torn clothes snagging on the rubble as he tore apart the infected with vicious determination.

Your legs gave way, and you sank to the floor, watching in shock and awe as the zombie you’d come to know as nothing more than a silent, broken creature fought to protect you. His twisted form—decaying, damaged—had become a weapon, a force of nature. And you were the one he was fighting for.

The sound of bones breaking and flesh tearing filled the room, and it wasn’t long before only the silence of the aftermath remained. The air was thick with blood, and the scent of death lingered heavily.

He stood over the last of the fallen, breathing heavily—if it could even be called breathing. His glowing eyes turned to you, and for the first time, you could swear you saw something like recognition there. It wasn’t a deep understanding or a moment of clarity. It was more like an unspoken bond, something only the two of you could comprehend.

You didn’t speak. You didn’t have to. Slowly, you stood up, your legs still trembling from the terror of the moment. You wiped a trembling hand across your face, feeling the sweat and blood mix, but you were alive.

And in that moment, you knew something had changed between you and the zombie—something stronger than fear, stronger than the darkness of the world. He hadn’t saved you out of any need for survival or hunger. He had saved you because, for reasons you couldn’t explain, he had chosen to.

The question of what this strange bond meant would come later. But for now, you were alive. And in the chaos of the apocalypse, that was enough. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Ink here! We have a lot of drafts and ideas that we will be posting! Scribe has a platonic pirate story that is being edited right now that she can't wait but to post! It is a pretty big one so it may take a bit! But I hope you enjoyed this one! Yours truly, Ink

[solxamber]

Hey, hey! A very happy (and very) early Valentine's day to you!

Could I request Silver, Romantic, Yuusha/勇者 by Yoasobi?

had to fight back tears remembering himmel while writing this and happy (early) valentine's day!

"Like a fairytale" || Silver

𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭

𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠: Yuusha by Yoasobi

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 630

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: Reincarnation, Angst with a Happy Ending

In another life, you and Silver were heroes.

You fought together, side by side, through blood and battle, through war and ruin. You held your swords high, your hearts burning with the same fire, and together, you reclaimed the land’s lost glory.

But your life ended before you could bask in the peace you had won.

The last thing Silver remembers of that life is your smile, soft even as you lay bleeding in his arms, your fingers weakly brushing his cheek. He remembers how you held on, how your voice was barely above a whisper when you said, "I'll find you again. I swear it."

Then your eyes fluttered closed, and his world collapsed.

He wakes in the present, gasping for air, the dream of that moment still clinging to him like an old wound. His hand reaches out, searching for something—someone—but he grasps only the empty sheets.

It never fades, the way his chest aches when he thinks of you. The weight of your absence has followed him into this life, a silent ghost at his side.

He walks through the world carrying the echoes of the past, seeing your touch in the land you once protected together.

He visits old ruins and wonders if anyone still remembers you. He passes through towns that were once battlefields and swears he can hear your laughter in the wind.

Some days, he thinks he sees you in the corner of his eye—a glimpse of a familiar smile, the curve of a face he knows better than his own. But when he turns, you're never there.

Still, he walks.

Through forests where you used to tease him for being too serious. Through fields where you once collapsed in exhaustion, stealing his rations with a mischievous grin. Through roads where you walked beside him, always just a step ahead, always looking back to make sure he was there.

His feet take him somewhere familiar—an old clearing, the place where he first met you in his past life. It’s empty, like always.

He sighs, closing his eyes for a moment. If he waits long enough, will you come back to him?

But when he opens them again, someone is already there.

His breath catches.

You turn.

And Silver is running before he can even think, his body moving on instinct, his heart hammering it’s you, it’s you, it’s you.

The moment he reaches you, he pulls you into his arms, holding you so tightly, so desperately, as if to make sure you won’t slip away again.

"You came back," he breathes, his voice raw, his forehead pressing against your shoulder.

You hesitate only for a second before your arms wrap around him too, warm and solid and real. "I promised I would, didn’t I?"

Silver exhales shakily, almost a laugh, almost a sob. His hands tighten around you, afraid that if he lets go, this will all turn to dust in his hands.

There are a thousand things he wants to say, but none of them matter—not when you're here.

Your fingers brush his face gently, like you’re memorizing him all over again. And then you smile—soft, just like that day so long ago.

Silver doesn’t hesitate this time.

He leans in, and your lips meet in a kiss that tastes like lifetimes of waiting, like longing and loss and homecoming all at once.

He doesn’t pull away. Not until he’s sure you’re real, not until the burning in his chest turns into something lighter, something warm.

And when he finally does, his forehead rests against yours.

"This time," he whispers, "we’ll walk together."

You nod, your hands still holding his. "Together."

And in the land you both once protected, where your names are still whispered in legend, a new journey begins.

Masterlist ; Valentine's Event

[michanvalentine]

This post is going to be a bit heavy and boring. I'll talk about Astarion, but also about real life, so if you're not interested, scroll away without hesitation!

So, lately, I've been pretty pissed off. I feel like I'm being made fun of by certain comments I see around regarding Astarion's redemption arc—how I supposedly have some kind of "Florence Nightingale syndrome" that makes me want to "fix" him with the power of my love (a syndrome that, in real life, would obviously put my own life at risk) and how I’m supposedly willing to justify anything he does just because he's traumatized. Seriously? So I must be some kind of idiot, a lovestruck teenager who knows nothing about how the world works, who's never stepped outside her house, who's never had a healthy relationship, and so on. And that pisses me off. Because maybe, just maybe, I know something more, not less.

And that’s exactly why I read between the lines, why I don’t judge instantly, and why I don’t delude myself into believing in the power of love as some kind of absolute force that magically fixes everything just because. Maybe the love we're talking about here has nothing to do with romanticizing (butterflies in the stomach, kisses and cuddles, "I’m the only one for him, and for me he’ll do this or that") a horrific situation—one where a man has been mentally and physically broken, one that comes with a whole range of possible unhealthy behaviors that could be dangerous to himself and others.

Maybe we’re talking about something more real, about lived experiences, about how people can support and help each other crawl out of the darkness. About how love simply means being there, without necessarily doing anything. In both good times and bad, because healing isn’t a straight line. There are ups and downs. Love means being aware of the struggles and working hard on them, it means listening, accepting, waiting, being patient. It means pushing back when necessary, confronting the person you love, and stopping them from hurting themselves. It also means giving up, running away, screaming at the sky, and then coming back more determined than before—even knowing you might have to start the process all over again.

Are the people who love this hard just idiots who think they can "fix" their loved ones with the power of love? And what if it were your child? Fuck no, I won’t accept that! That’s a message that cannot and must not spread, not when there are people out there fighting this battle every single day.

Sure, there are plenty of lost causes in this world, and yes, real danger exists. But the key is being able to recognize them. No one wants to be a martyr, but there will always be someone worth fighting for. Because yes, loving someone who struggles—with depression, personality disorders, eating disorders, anxiety, PTSD, etc.—is a fight. But that doesn’t mean they don’t deserve love.

And Spawn Astarion is not a lost cause. He comes from a background of every kind of abuse imaginable. He’s an asshole because he has to be (and he’s also a fucking vampire!), but then—something changes. Possibilities open up before him. And immediately, he shows he can adapt, that he can learn, that he wants to change.

And when that internal drive is there (that inner force of the individual himself, which makes all the difference in the world), you can’t and shouldn’t ignore it—even in real life.

It’s not about "fixing" someone. It’s about helping them feel better, about helping them achieve their goals (yes, their goals—even when they can’t quite articulate them), about changing in a healthier way, about healing. Because Spawn Astarion wants to live more than anything else. And he wants to do so fully, not as a broken man.

That’s why he approves when Tav/Durge tells him he just needs to find a place for himself, that he can find so many people willing to care for him if only he is willing to care for them. That’s why he approves when Tav/Durge reminds him—despite his fear, despite the intoxicating scent of blood—that maybe, just maybe, ascension isn’t what he truly wants. He approves. There’s no room for misinterpretation here—this is as sincere as it gets.

And in both cases, these situations are directly opposed to his obsession with taking Cazador’s place.

But, going back to the point—thinking that the power of love can magically fix everything is stupid. But we also cannot allow the message to spread that, in real life, a person who struggles due to trauma (and hell, it doesn’t even have to be torture in a dark dungeon—it could be something as "simple" as a profound loss) is incapable of healing or being loved, despite the difficulties. It’s not easy, but there are men and women in this world with immense strength and hearts big enough to do this and more.

If this isn't for you, fine. No one is forcing you. But make room for these heroes instead of spouting nonsense.

Now, fortunately, BG3 is a fantasy game where you can do literally anything, freely, even recklessly, without any real risk. And that’s fine—let’s have fun experimenting, living out our fantasies, being heroes (after all, we’re not actually picking up swords and charging into hordes of pissed-off goblins), becoming ultimate villains, bringing the world to its knees, killing anyone who gets in our way.

But when we bring real life into the discussion to make a point or compare it to the game, let’s do so with a little more thought and tact. Kindness is a virtue, not a flaw.

And to end on a lighter note—hell no, I don’t approve of everything Astarion says or does! I try to understand him, to grasp the many whys behind his actions, but if I had him in front of me, I’d straight-up say, "Oi, what the fuck are you doing?! Asshole!" I’d argue with him, I’d get mad at him—just like I did in my playthroughs.

And for the record, I never had to step off my heroic path to gain his approval. I simply disagreed with him when I felt it was right and treated him kindly when he needed it.

Honestly, earning his approval in this game is the easiest thing in the world—let him drink your blood, trust him (defend him from the other companions’ suspicions), let him decide how to handle his diet (which, honestly, is a fair compromise), tell the devil to go to hell (xP), and do something ridiculously stupid like giving him the necromancy book, interrupting the two ogres having sex, licking a goblin’s boots, and getting whipped a little—voilà! Suddenly, you have Astarion in your arms, and you haven’t even had time to save the druid grove yet.

In my very first playthrough, with my super-good Selûne cleric who was always helping the needy, I was actually trying to romance Shadowheart—when I somehow found myself magically in a relationship with Astarion just because I told him, "I care about you" (the same reason I didn’t let him bite the pervy drow). Lol.

Ok, I'll try not to make any more heavy posts like this. I feel a bit like a broken record, singing the same song over and over—sorry about that. And of course, have a great day, everyone! <3

[chosaraki]

The Reunion.

—————————————————————————

The rain fell heavily on the Yamazaki residence, washing the blood scattered on the floor. The air was loaded with the metallic smell and tension of a battle that had just been won. Gun Park was at the center of it all, his breathing controlled, but his heart beating fast.

His jacket was torn and dirty, the sleeves folded up to the elbows, revealing the tense muscles. He wiped the blood from his cheek with the back of his hand, his cold eyes sweeping the environment. Bodies of the members of the Yamazaki clan lay on the floor, some unconscious, others lifeless. In the center of the room, Shintaro's motionless body.

The old bastard was finally dead.

But Gun didn't feel relief. Not even satisfaction.

Because he still didn't know the answer to the only question that mattered.

Were you still alive?

Fear, a feeling he rarely experienced, burned inside him. Two years away. Two years without knowing if his biggest nightmare had come true. You were pregnant when he left—he never knew what happened next.

Without wasting time, he advanced through the corridors of the mansion, his steps echoing through the wooden floor. His fingers closed into fists. He was prepared for the worst.

He opened the door of his old room tightly. The environment was dark and empty. No sign of life.

For a moment, the overwhelming silence was all that existed.

So, he heard.

A voice. Soft, familiar.

"...Gun?"

Time seemed to stop.

He turned around, his eyes wide—and there you were.

You looked different, but at the same time, exactly as he remembered. His gaze still carried that unmistakable kindness, but also a strength that was not there before. You were standing, firm, and behind you...

Gun stopped breathing.

Two girls.

Two children who had the same eyes as him.

They were small, but not fragile. The oldest, Muichira, wore glasses, her hair in two well-organized braids, and her expression was calm, observant, serious. The youngest, Yoriichi, was the opposite—rebellious hair, bright and curious eyes, holding the sleeve of her kimono with a shy smile.

He looked at you, then at them. And then, for you again.

"They are..." His voice failed, something that never happened.

You nodded slowly. "Our daughters."

Gun felt something he had never felt before. Not anger, not satisfaction. Something deeper, more overwhelming.

His hands trembled slightly as he faced those two small versions of him mixed with you. He didn't know what to do. He, who always knew how to deal with any situation, who never hesitated in a fight, who never had doubts. Now, I was lost.

Muichira looked him up and down before fixing his glasses. "Are you our father?" His voice was neutral, as if he had already accepted that fact, but waited for a logical explanation.

Yoriichi tilted his head, studying him as if trying to fit his image with something he had heard before. "Mom talked about you sometimes."

He didn't know how to react. He, who always knew how to face any opponent, who never hesitated in the face of violence, was now... lost.

His gaze returned to you.

His face was serene, but his eyes said it all—pain, longing, maybe even a little anger.

"I didn't know if you would come back," you said, your voice calm, but full of weight. "I didn't know if I should tell them about you."

Gun ran his tongue over his lips, trying to find words. But the weight of the truth was overwhelming.

"You were pregnant," he murmured, as if only now his brain was processing what had happened.

"Yes," you simply answered.

He closed his eyes for a moment. His jaw contracted.

So, he did something he never imagined he would do.

He knelt down.

In front of the daughters.

Muichira raised an eyebrow, intrigued. Yoriichi just watched, his eyes shining with curiosity.

Gun watched them, absorbing every detail.

"...Sorry for the delay." His voice was low, but firm.

Muichira crossed her arms, pondering. "Do you intend to take us with you?"

Gun looked up, surprised by the maturity in his daughter's voice.

So, he looked at you.

You stared at him, waiting for his answer.

Gun stood up, closed the distance between you, and before you could react, he held your face firmly.

He didn't hesitate.

He kissed you.

It was an intense, strong kiss, loaded with everything that was stuck in these two years.

It took you a second to correspond, as if you were testing if it was real. Then, your hand went up to hold it by the collar of the jacket, pulling it closer.

When the two walked away, you were panting, but you didn't look away from his.

Gun kept one of his hands on his face, his thumb sliding gently down his cheek.

"I'm going," he said, his voice loaded with certainty.

You blinked, surprise.

Yoriichi smiled broadly. "Does that mean dad wants us?"

Gun turned to the girls and, for the first time in years, a small smile crossed his face."It means that no one will take me away from you."

And at that moment, Gun knew.

He had returned to Japan for revenge. But what you found was something much more important.

Your family.

And he would never leave her again.

—————————————————————————

Gun Park's return to Japan is like the rebirth of a broken man, returning to the home he onced knew, but which is now marked by absence and fear. In the heavy silence of the rain, he crosses a path of blood and destruction, not in search of revenge, but of a single truth: his family is still alive. Shintaro's death is just the prelude to something deeper, something Gun didn't know how to face until that moment.

When he finds the room empty, a sigh of despair takes him. But then, when you hear your voice, time bends, and the past is revealed. His beloved, with eyes as gentle as before, is there, alive, stronger, but still the woman he lost. Behind her, two small figures with his eyes, but with his mother's hair, reflect everything he feared and desired most—the legacy of lost love.

In an unexpected gesture, Gun kneels, as if the weight of responsibility, absence and guilt made him less before them. The silent question he has carried for years finds its answer in the eyes of his daughters, and the moment he faces them, the pain of the past dissolves.

The kiss with his wife is the fusion of what was never forgotten, the promise that, despite the lost time, he can finally be the man he promised to be. And there, in the heat of a reunion, Gun finds his reason to live: no longer out of revenge, but for the family that, against all odds, is still waiting for him.

The rain outside continues, but inside his heart, a new storm calms down.

—————————————————————————

The names of their daughters have nothing to do with the characters!

I only put it because I like the names!

……………………………………………………………………………..

[pandorias-box]

//HI i got tagged in this so i figured i’d be nice and do this as well and shout out some blogs and blorbos i like (but i’ll try not to tag too many bc some people have already mentioned them before)

//list is below the cut because it’s a bit long

@from-ultra-space - fellow blue bitch! we’ve written a ton of integral plotlines together and they’ve been an ally of pandoria since the beginning.

@pkmnspacehistory - really cool integration of actual aerospace history with the pokemon world in addition to being an interesting concept in general

@vulgrados-best - MIGUEL. OH MIGUEL. i’ve been following the redux crew intensely for the past few months and i love all of the muns and muses within that storyline but especially miguel. i can’t wait for hir to get in the spotlight but im also scared because the redux is. a lot. (for the sake of the other muns of the redux crew, i will not be tagging them all but there is an ongoing arc with them and @/yveltal-real that is happening and if you want to check them out because their storylines are so good)

@wandering-white-dwarf - another zinnia blog! god there are. a lot of them, but this is the one i’ve interacted with the most. i love seeing people’s individual takes on canon characters and this is no exception

@lumenflowered - i have never played bloodborne but all i know is that lady maria of the clocktower is so fucking cool and all of the arcs you have done with her and other fallers connected to the soulsborne games are so interesting to me.

@tinkatinktrain - they mylahhhhhhhh. god she’s just like me fr (attempting to be silly despite the horrors persisting). even if our character’s haven’t interacted that much, seeing their posts on my dash makes me do the occasional audible chuckle.

@water-pokemon-appreciator - another rotumblr funnyman. pandoria may be sick of his shit but i’m not. sidon is such a good way to make an “overpowered” character seem down to earth instead of someone who just overexploits their abilities. i mean, he does use them in incredibly mundane situations sometimes and it’s funny.

@battle-subway-ghost - YOU. the one who tagged me for this ask game. i’ve been loosely following paris and sprite (@/thatfailedpokemontrainer) ever since i started rotumblr. much like with the reduxverse, i’m engaged with a bunch of the plotlines you’ve come up with over the amount of time i’ve been in the community.

// what if we all tagged our favorite blogs and went to check eachother's favorite blogs out as a result of tagging our favorite blogs. what then

[inspireartnotwar]

Art. Can. Die.

This is my battle cry in the face of the silent extinguishing of an entire generation of artists by AI.

And you know what? We can't let that happen. It's not about fighting the future, it's about shaping it on our terms. If you think this is worth fighting for, please share this post. Let's make this debate go viral - because we need to take action NOW.

Remember that even in the darkest of times, creativity always finds a way.

To unleash our true potential, we need first to dive deep into our darkest fears.

So let's do this together:

By the end of 2025, most traditional artist jobs will be gone, replaced by a handful of AI-augmented art directors. Right now, around 5 out of 6 concept art jobs are being eliminated, and it's even more brutal for illustrators. This isn't speculation: it's happening right now, in real-time, across studios worldwide.

At this point, dogmatic thinking is our worst enemy. If we want to survive the AI tsunami of 2025, we need to prepare for a brutal cyberpunk reality that isn’t waiting for permission to arrive. This isn't sci-fi or catastrophism. This is a clear-eyed recognition of the exponential impact AI will have on society, hitting a hockey stick inflection point around April-May this year. By July, February will already feel like a decade ago. This also means that we have a narrow window to adapt, to evolve, and to build something new.

Let me make five predictions for the end of 2025 to nail this out:

Every major film company will have its first 100% AI-generated blockbuster in production or on screen.

Next-gen smartphones will run GPT-4o-level reasoning AI locally.

The first full AI game engine will generate infinite, custom-made worlds tailored to individual profiles and desires.

Unique art objects will reach industrial scale: entire production chains will mass-produce one-of-a-kind pieces. Uniqueness will be the new mass market.

Synthetic AI-generated data will exceed the sum total of all epistemic data (true knowledge) created by humanity throughout recorded history. We will be drowning in a sea of artificial ‘truths’.

For us artists, this means a stark choice: adapt to real-world craftsmanship or high-level creative thinking roles, because mid-level art skills will be replaced by cheaper, AI-augmented computing power.

But this is not the end. This is just another challenge to tackle.

Many will say we need legal solutions. They're not wrong, but they're missing the bigger picture: Do you think China, Pakistan, or North Korea will suddenly play nice with Western copyright laws? Will a "legal" dataset somehow magically protect our jobs? And most crucially, what happens when AI becomes just another tool of control?

Here's the thing - boycotting AI feels right, I get it. But it sounds like punks refusing to learn power chords because guitars are electrified by corporations. The systemic shift at stake doesn't care if we stay "pure", it will only change if we hack it.

Now, the empowerment part: artists have always been hackers of narratives.

This is what we do best: we break into the symbolic fabric of the world, weaving meaning from signs, emotions, and ideas. We've always taken tools never meant for art and turned them into instruments of creativity. We've always found ways to carve out meaning in systems designed to erase it.

This isn't just about survival. This is about hacking the future itself.

We, artists, are the pirates of the collective imaginary. It’s time to set sail and raise the black flag.

I don't come with a ready-made solution.

I don't come with a FOR or AGAINST. That would be like being against the wood axe because it can crush skulls.

I come with a battle cry: let’s flood the internet with debate, creative thinking, and unconventional wisdom. Let’s dream impossible futures. Let’s build stories of resilience - where humanity remains free from the technological guardianship of AI or synthetic superintelligence. Let’s hack the very fabric of what is deemed ‘possible’. And let’s do it together.

It is time to fight back.

Let us be the HumaNet.

Let’s show tech enthusiasts, engineers, and investors that we are not just assets, but the neurons of the most powerful superintelligence ever created: the artist community.

Let's outsmart the machine.

Stéphane Wootha Richard

P.S: This isn't just a message to read and forget. This is a memetic payload that needs to spread.

Send this to every artist in your network.

Copy/paste the full text anywhere you can.

Spread it across your social channels.

Start conversations in your creative communities.

No social platform? Great! That's exactly why this needs to spread through every possible channel, official and underground.

Let's flood the datasphere with our collective debate.

[ssho0ta]

Promise | Terry Richmond part 1

Terry Richmond x Black!Fem! Reader

word count: 692 ( she a lil short)

Summary: After the battle in Shelby Springs, Terry finally makes his way back home to you.

The faint sounds of birds outside chirping and your dog Coco lying on the bed next to you, soft snores slowly brought you out of your slumber. You slowly opened your eyes, the brown orbs adjusting, as you turned your body around to look for your phone. 8:45 is what it said once you reached and you slowly sighed realizing that Terry said he would be back now.

It was day 4 of him not being home after he left to venture to a small town to bail his cousin out. At first, you suggested you go with him but he said he preferred for you to stay to watch after Coco. And he promised he would come back home in 2 days. It's been 4 and even though the two of you shared subtle communication you were worried as he kept his status very vague. 

Terry was never the type to lie to you, he was always honest, and whenever he promised you something he always made sure you got it. But you were becoming impatient and scared wondering if you should travel to  Shelby Springs to find him. But one thing Terry always told you was to be patient with him and you trusted him so you decided to wait.

You got out of bed making Coco lift her head from feeling the bed shift. You walk towards your en-suite bathroom to get started with your day. You cut the light on in the bathroom approaching the sink, and grabbing your toothbrush and toothpaste. 

Once you finished brushing your teeth and doing your skin care, you pushed back the shower curtain slightly twisting the mob to turn the shower on. The bathroom started to steam and quickly stripped away your clothing and stepped in.

-

You walked down the steps coco trailing behind you, making your way to the kitchen for breakfast. Dreaming of the cup of coffee and cereal that was about to bless your taste buds.

You made your way down the hallway floorboards creaking underneath the weight of your footsteps.  You made your way to open the back door and let Coco outside to use the bathroom.

You walked more towards the open-concept kitchen and living room that was connected coming into sight. You immediately made your way towards the kitchen area. Opening the top cabinet and grabbing your favorite mug that you brought while forcing Terry to take you on a long target run. You started the coffee pot, steam coming from beneath you and it brewed into your cup. 

You went to open the door back open for Coco and you poured more food and water inside of her bowl. You went back to the coffee pot, grabbed your cup, and opened the fridge to grab your favorite French vanilla creamer. 

Leaning against the counter with the cup in your hands, you looked outside the kitchen window. Terry was still heavy on your mind, his whereabouts still in your head you were concerned about why it took so long to bail out his cousin. Millions of different possible scenarios  flooded 

Your head, but then pulled out of your train of thought by the sound of a truck pulling into your yard.

The car was unfamiliar to you and your hand slowly started to creep to the kitchen drawer where Terry kept a gun for safety. Until the door of the truck opened revealing Terry stepping out, he looked like he had been through hell and back. He was sweaty and looked exhausted. This immediately made you put your mug down and walk outside running towards him.

When he saw you, his world immediately lit up, and he opened his arms for you to jump in them. And you did, wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck, putting your face there. He also held your hands, caressing your back. 

you peppered his face in kisses and he lightly smiled at the feeling

A/N: Idk if I should do a part two or not let me know😭

[ghostlyglimmer]

The Fun Zone Part 9

The arcade lights were flickering away, the faint smell of popcorn and hot dogs filled the air, as Danny was trying to untangle a roll of tickets that had jammed in one of the machines. Jason was holed up in the back office, probably grumbling about something or other.

Danny had just managed to free the tickets when the door swung open, and a delivery guy walked in holding a stack of pizza boxes.

“Uh, hey,” Danny called out from behind the counter. “I didn’t order pizza.”

The delivery guy squinted at the receipt. “This says it’s for… Red Hood?”

Danny blinked. “What?”

Just as the delivery guy set the stack of pizzas on the counter, Jason stomped out of the office, looking suspicious as always.

“What’s going on out here?” Jason barked.

Danny gestured to the pizzas. “Apparently, you ordered enough pizza to feed an army.”

Jason frowned, snatching the receipt. His eyes scanned it, and he growled. “This isn’t mine.”

Danny crossed his arms. “You sure? Because I could totally see you stress-eating five large pizzas.”

Jason shot him a glare. “It’s a prank.”

“Who pranks someone with pizza?” Danny asked, opening one of the boxes. “Wait, is that pineapple?”

Jason groaned. “Yeah, it’s definitely a prank. Only one person would send me this crap.”

Before Danny could ask who, the lights in the arcade dimmed, and a voice echoed through the speakers.

“Riddle me this, Hood… What’s cheesy, circular, and utterly ridiculous?”

Danny froze. “Please tell me that’s not who I think it is.”

Jason sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s Riddler.”

Sure enough, the Riddler himself walked through the door, wearing his signature green suit and holding a microphone connected to… something. Probably something bad.

“Edward,” Jason growled. “You’ve got five seconds to explain before I throw you out.”

Riddler smirked, gesturing dramatically. “Isn’t it obvious? I’ve come to challenge you! A battle of wits, right here in this… delightful establishment.”

Danny snorted. “Delightful? Dude, a kid threw up in the ball pit this morning.”

Riddler waved him off. “Minor details. Now, Hood, if you’re so clever, let’s see if you can solve my pizza-themed riddles! If you win, I’ll leave. If not, this whole place gets… a little toasty.”

Jason looked at Danny. “Can we just punch him now?”

Danny shrugged. “I mean, I’d kind of like to see where this is going.”

 

Riddler set up a little podium next to the skee-ball machines, pulling out flashcards covered in—what else—riddles. The first one was so easy it was almost insulting.

“What has toppings but isn’t a hat?” Riddler read with a flourish.

Jason stared at him. “Are you serious?”

“Answer!” Riddler barked.

“A pizza,” Jason deadpanned.

“Correct,” Riddler said, looking annoyed. “Alright, try this one: What’s full of dough but never spends money?”

“Still pizza,” Jason replied.

Danny, leaning against the counter with a slice in hand, raised a hand. “Hey, I know this one! Also pizza.”

Riddler’s eye twitched. “Fine! Let’s make things more… interesting.”

He pressed a button on his microphone, and suddenly the claw machine started glowing ominously. The stuffed animals inside began vibrating like they were about to come alive.

Danny blinked. “Did you just weaponize the claw machine?”

Jason sighed. “Of course he did.”

“Careful, Hood!” Riddler taunted. “If you don’t solve my next riddle, these adorable plushies will be your undoing!”

Danny raised an eyebrow. “You realize that makes no sense, right?”

“Silence!” Riddler yelled. “Here’s the final riddle: What’s served hot, sliced, and about to make you look foolish?”

Jason growled, grabbing one of the pizza boxes and hurling it at Riddler. The box smacked him in the face, sending the microphone flying.

Danny burst out laughing as Riddler stumbled back, tripping over a skee-ball machine. Jason grabbed the microphone and crushed it in his hand, deactivating the claw machine just as it started spitting out glowing tokens.

Riddler groaned from the floor. “You… brute!”

Jason loomed over him. “Next time you pull something like this, I’m shoving you into the ball pit.”

“Not the ball pit!” Riddler cried, scrambling to his feet. He dashed out the door, muttering something about uncultured vigilantes.

Danny sat on the counter, still laughing as Jason glared at the stack of pizzas. “So… do we eat these, or is there some kind of Gotham protocol for prank food?”

Jason sighed, grabbing a slice. “I’m not letting this go to waste.”

Danny grinned. “You want the pineapple? It’s your favorite, right?”

Jason threw a napkin at him. “Shut up, Fenton.”

Danny leaned back, watching as Jason took a bite. “You know, I think this is the best night we’ve ever had here.”

Jason gave him a flat look. “Remind me to fire you.”

Danny just laughed, grabbing another slice. “You’d miss me.”

And, for once, Jason didn’t argue.

[aaagustd]

the "war of love" collab (m)

╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ a Seventeen collection

❝ Fool you once, shame on him. Fool you twice, shame on you. Fool you three times…

Damn, you’re fucked.

Falling for the wrong guy for all the wrong reasons is the brand around here. Your mind, your body, and your heart are all at odds—battling for dominance in this twisted tug of war. However, we all know there’s only one winner here.

Welcome to hell, darling. Love can’t wait to chew you up and spit you out. ❞

🖤⃝🇷𓊈𒆜 DEAD DOVES DO NOT EAT 𒆜𓊉࿐☠️

╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ This is your final warning! The content below may contain themes that are mature/triggering/upsetting/etc. We are not responsible for what you consume or how it affects you. Please leave if you are not a fan of dark content!

🖤⃝🇷𓊈𒆜 A Long Kiss Goodnight 𒆜𓊉࿐☠️- by @aaagustd ╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ demon outlaw!seungcheol x executioner/hangman!(f)reader

❝ Seungcheol and his gang ran the West for decades. Now that he's finally been captured, he must face the last person he ever thought he'd meet. The hangman patiently waits for his arrival, but little do you know—you're going to get burned trying to drag this demon back to hell. [wild west au, smut, supernatural] ❞ ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Desperado by Rihanna

🖤⃝🇷𓊈𒆜 coming soon! 𒆜𓊉࿐☠️

🖤⃝🇷𓊈𒆜 Deadly Duty 𒆜𓊉࿐☠️- by @yoonguurt ╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ crooked politician!jeonghan x reader

❝ You live a normal life. You shop got groceries based on what's on sale, even though you're probably gonna order take out. You pay your taxes and you feed stray cats. Lately though, weird things have been happening. A feeling of eyes on you, of being watched. Notes being left outside of your door. With a feeling of uneasiness, you decide to take action. Time to pay a visit to the chief of police, Yoon Jeonghan. He vows to find out what's going on, even if his methods are iffy at best. [s2l, smut, yandere] ❞

🖤⃝🇷𓊈𒆜 coming soon! 𒆜𓊉࿐☠️

🖤⃝🇷𓊈𒆜 Sorry Not Sorry 𒆜𓊉࿐☠️- by @hannieween ╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ con artist!joshua x (f)reader

❝Joshua Hong’s life turned upside down when his latest scheme spiraled out of control. From being so feared that his name alone could send even the most cunning criminals into hiding, to playing the role of a loving, unassuming husband—so remarkably that he wouldn’t even draw the attention of a fly.   But old habits never die, and in a world where trust is currency and lies are as good as gold, will he resist the pull of his past? [fluff, smut, ex-criminal joshua, husband joshua] ❞

🖤⃝🇷𓊈𒆜 coming soon! 𒆜𓊉࿐☠️

🖤⃝🇷𓊈𒆜 Official Business 𒆜𓊉࿐☠️- by @lovetaroandtaemin ╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ corrupt politician!jun x rival's wife!reader

❝ When you meet Junhui at an official dinner that you're attending with your husband, he immediately catches your attention. You keep your distance at first, choosing to stay faithful to your husband rather than giving in to what you initially write off as fleeting attraction. However, you change your mind when your husband's mistress shows up at your door with demands for child support for her unborn baby. As lines are crossed, you find yourself addicted to the way Junhui makes you feel, making you realize that you deserve better than your no-good husband. [smut, angst, fluff, criminal au] ❞

🖤⃝🇷𓊈𒆜 coming soon! 𒆜𓊉࿐☠️

🖤⃝🇷𓊈𒆜 Puppet Master 𒆜𓊉࿐☠️- by @/aaagustd ╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ mafia boss!soonyoung x mistress!(f)reader

❝ He doesn’t love you. He doesn’t care if you’d die for him. You’re just a silly little toy he plays with whenever he feels like cheating.  [mafia au, smut, crime au] ❞ ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Dangerously In Love by Beyoncé

🖤⃝🇷𓊈𒆜 coming soon! 𒆜𓊉࿐☠️

🖤⃝🇷𓊈𒆜 Checkmate 𒆜𓊉࿐☠️- by @hobeemin ╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ corrupt businessman!wonwoo x lawyer!(f)oc

❝ Based loosely on Rumpelstiltskin, he craves power in all forms. He'll step on anyone to achieve his goals, even blackmail. Marriage is only a contractual obligation in his eyes. Anything to seize the perfect opportunity. [mafia au, arranged marriage, crime au, romance, smut, thriller, angst, e2l, s2l] ❞ ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Tony Montana by AgustD ft. Yankie

🖤⃝🇷𓊈𒆜 coming soon! 𒆜𓊉࿐☠️

🖤⃝🇷𓊈𒆜 All Your Fault 𒆜𓊉࿐☠️- by @beomcoups ╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ gang leader!jihoon x ex-girlfriend!reader

❝ You haven't seen Woozi in years, and you moved on fine, turning your life around and leaving dark life behind... until he crashes into you literally, in trouble— and you are the only one who can help him. [criminal au, fluff, angst, smut] ❞ ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Die 4 U by Dean

🖤⃝🇷𓊈𒆜 coming soon! 𒆜𓊉࿐☠️

🖤⃝🇷𓊈𒆜 Watchful Eye 𒆜𓊉࿐☠️- by @/lovetaroandtaemin ╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ seokmin x fem!reader

❝ You and Seokmin were high school sweethearts, but when your distrust of Seokmin's new friends led to an argument about trust and control, the relationship ended. Years later, you and Seokmin have your own lives, but you have no idea that his centers around crime. What will happen when Seokmin happens to see you out on a date with a man that isn't him? [angst, smut, mafia au] ❞

🖤⃝🇷𓊈𒆜 coming soon! 𒆜𓊉࿐☠️

🖤⃝🇷𓊈𒆜 Choppers & Charms 𒆜𓊉࿐☠️- by @shadowkoo ╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ biker gang leader!mingyu x pychic!(f)reader

❝ Mingyu doesn’t believe in magic or witches, or whatever the hell you want to call it. Life has always been straightforward for him. He prefers hard logic, undeniable facts, and a healthy dose of skepticism backed up by a fist or a bullet, whichever feels the most efficient at that moment in time. So when he finds himself in a dimly lit occult shop, face-to-face with a psychic who looks nothing like the crystal-gazing crone he’s imagined, he’s convinced it’s all an elaborate con. But then you mention something buried deep in his past, something no one else could possibly know, and leave him with a chilling warning about a certain ‘business deal’ he has planned for the next day. He brushes it off as a clever scam, until that warning saves his life... and the lives of his crew. Suddenly, you’re not just some fortune-telling charlatan. You’re dangerous, powerful, and the one person he can’t afford to lose. [smut, criminal au, biker gang au] ❞ ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Venom by Windwaker

🖤⃝🇷𓊈𒆜 coming soon! 𒆜𓊉࿐☠️

🖤⃝🇷𓊈𒆜 Hotwired 𒆜𓊉࿐☠️- by @caelesjjk ╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ car thief!minghao x (f)reader

❝ Just when you really start to believe that you can move on from Minghao and all of his commitment issues, you find yourself in the passenger seat of his stupidest grand theft auto job yet. He asks for one night to show you that he wants you and he wants to keep you for good this time. And you’re a sucker when it comes to the thrill of loving him. [criminal au, exes to lovers, smut] ❞ ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : No Shame by 5 Seconds Of Summer

🖤⃝🇷𓊈𒆜 coming soon! 𒆜𓊉࿐☠️

🖤⃝🇷𓊈𒆜 Street Demon 𒆜𓊉࿐☠️- by @sailorsoons ╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ mafia!seungkwan x (f)reader

❝ You’ve been street racing since you could reach the pedal of a car - it’s the only thing you’ve ever been good at. When a rival decides they’re tired of losing to you, Seungkwan steps in to show he’s more than just a street racer. [criminal au, acquaintances to lovers, smut] ❞

🖤⃝🇷𓊈𒆜 coming soon! 𒆜𓊉࿐☠️

🖤⃝🇷𓊈𒆜 Stitch Fix 𒆜𓊉࿐☠️- by @/sailorsoons ╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ gang member!vernon x nurse!reader

❝ Working endless overnights in the emergency room is the least favorite part of your job. Your recurring patient with the split knuckles and a charming smile is your favorite part, even if it shouldn’t be. [criminal au, strangers to lovers, smut] ❞

🖤⃝🇷𓊈𒆜 coming soon! 𒆜𓊉࿐☠️

🖤⃝🇷𓊈𒆜 Across the Universe 𒆜𓊉࿐☠️- by @kwanisms ╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ alien outlaw!chan × bounty hunter human!(f)reader

❝ The year is 2487 and humanity has finally spread its intergalactic wings and taken to the cosmos, expanding the Human Empire and reaching into the depths of the universe. Along the way, they have met many alien species, some sentient and some not so sentient. As the whole of the human race has settled into this new way of living, they’ve learned that life in space is not much different than life was in the Solar System. Crime is still rampant. Many turn to crime to make a living and then there are those who hunt the criminals down. Or the one where Y/N is a human bounty hunter and is tasked with hunting down an alien outlaw who goes by the name Dino. [smut, science fiction, space opera, space exploration, slight horror themes; non idol au, alien au, bounty hunter au] ❞

🖤⃝🇷𓊈𒆜 coming soon! 𒆜𓊉࿐☠️

🖤⃝🇷𓊈𒆜 join the collab taglist! 𒆜𓊉࿐☠️

╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ To be a part of this taglist you must be 18+!! You will not be tagged by each writer, but you will receive a notification each time the masterlist is updated. 

[note]: Spam and/or harassment towards the hosts/writers will result in the taglist being removed. If you have a question regarding one of the collab stories, please "kindly" reach out to the writer. Lastly, "dead doves do not eat". No member of this collab is responsible for your triggers or preferences. If you know you are entering dangerous/grey territory it is YOUR responsibility to heed warnings.

[taglist form]

divider credit

[looulouv]

words unspoken — epic!telemachus x reader

pairing: telemachus x gn!reader synopsis: after the battle, the ithacan palace is left in complete silence. maybe there are still some words to be said, and a new beginning is due. genre: fluff, maybe a just a tiny bit itty bitty angsty, but not really warnings: mentions of battle aftermath, blood, and reflections on death, tele being tele word count: 1.4k author's note: it's here !!!!!!!!! spending my summer writing this instead of doing my homework is so nice. i hope you like it, and don't be afraid to like and comment. also keep in mind that reblogs help me grow <3 besos pt 1: here! first meeting: here!

When his father —who just smiled after teasing him— turned to him with a quiet yet firm command to let his mother know he was home, Telemachus did not hesitate. Or rather, he didn't let his hesitation show.

His eyes flickered to the guard standing beside him, their clothes smeared with the blood of the suitors, eyes now tranquil as ever. He supposed it was due to the new peace the palace had, now silent after years of noise that belonged to them, from the clang of goblets and dishes hitting the floor, to countless fights and brawls, screams and yells to the servants and boisterous laughter that bounced off the walls. The halls of the palace were now eerily silent, save for the muffled voices of the remaining servants, the soft crackle of torches still burning in the aftermath of battle. The smell of blood still lingered, the metallic scent making Telemachus scrunch his nose in slight disgust, but it was faint, overpowered by the familiar sea salt that always clung to to the palace's walls.

As they kept walking, he met their gaze briefly, and they just gave each other a faint smile, still walking through the halls to Penelope's chambers. The walk felt eternal. They walked in silence—not an awkward one, but charged with something unspoken. Telemachus felt it in the way his fingers twitched by his side, in the way his throat tightened every time he tried to find the words.

He snuck another glance at (Y/N), catching the way their sharp eyes softened ever so slightly as they took in their surroundings, maybe feeling the new beginning approaching. He wondered what they were thinking though—if they felt the same weight in their chest that he did, the same tension curling between them like an unstrung bow just waiting to snap.

Then their gaze shifted. And for a brief second, their eyes met.

Telemachus was quick to look away, his heart stammering against his ribs like a startled bird. Gods, when had he become fifteen again? When had he returned to that state? The nervous wrecks, stumbling over words, or just struggling to say anything?

He cleared his throat, forcing his voice to come out steady, praying to the gods that it wouldn't crack. "Y-you fought well today. Like always, I mean, not like you don't fight well in general… I-I just, I've never seen you fight like that so I just thought it was pretty… Pretty good! Yeah, pretty good…"

The guard turned to him, one brow slightly arched like they were wondering what in the world was wrong with him. Then, to his utter ruin, they smiled.

"Mhm, thank you, my prince."

It was teasing. They always called him that in jest, never in true formality, but this time, it felt different. This time, it felt… affectionate.

"And I'm sure you fought efficiently as well. You have improved greatly, I can tell. You look… different." They added, eyes going over his frame, and Telemachus couldn't help but feel warm inside, trying very hard to ignore the flush on his cheeks.

They reached Penelope's door soon after, pausing at the door. Telemachus went in alone, (Y/N) waiting by the door like always, as if they still had to vigil for the queen's safety. Once Telemachus stepped outside, both prince and guard could see the imposing form of Odysseus, looking more and more nervous as he stepped closer.

Telemachus looked at his father, almost like he still couldn't believe it was him right in front of his eyes, and just let him know that Penelope was waiting for him. Next, the king entered what had been his chambers for the first time after twenty years.

From within, quiet voices could be heard—his mother's soft, melodic voice and Odysseus' tone changing to an incredibly soft murmur.

Yet Telemachus and (Y/N) decided to let the married couple have their moment alone, walking through the halls aimlessly.

Telemachus exhaled, feeling his chest ease slightly. His parents were together again, reunited after years and years of waiting. Finally.

Yet why did his chest feel restless?

He turned to his guard, to the friend he had come to adore over the years, to the same person that left him tossing and tossing at night, incapable of sleep due to the amount of space they claimed in his mind. Something in him tightened when he realized they were already watching him, head tilted slightly, as if waiting. As if expecting something.

That was his chance.

"Listen," he started, voice lower now, less confident, with a certain shakiness. "There's something I need to—"

"You have something on your face."

Telemachus blinked. "What?"

His guard let out a quiet huff before stepping closer—far too close— reaching up to brush their thumb just beneath his jaw, then over his eyebrow, and finally, just over the apple of his cheek.

"Blood and… lipstick." They smirked, eyes glinting with amusement before adding a soft murmur. "I suppose both of those are not yours."

Telemachus forgot how to breathe.

Oh, he was going to die. Right there, slain not by a sword, but by them.

"I-It's my mother's! My mother's lipstick!" Like that didn't sound any more embarrassing, but he felt like he had to let them know.

"I know, Telemachus. You didn't have it when you walked into the queen's chambers."

He swallowed, every nerve in his body alight. He wanted to thank them, nervously joke about how his mother had reacted to his return, but nothing came out.

Until it did, and it wasn't even remotely close to what he had in mind.

"I love you." He blurted out in a soft breath, voice barely above a whisper, but he was sure they heard it with how close they were.

"What?" Oh, gods.

Telemachus felt his heart hammering so violently it actually hurt. Gods, why were they so terrifying? Had he made a mistake? He couldn't stop shaking.

"I'm in love with you." He said, trying to make his voice sound confident, yet he knew he was failing. "I'm really sorry... I apologize if that's strange for you to hear… B-but I needed you to hear it…"

They just blinked, their hand still on his cheek, and Telemachus prayed that it would stay there.

"I've known you for years, and yet every time I look at you, I see someone new. Someone stronger, braver. And I can't stop looking, I don't want to. I-I don't think you realize how much you mean to the people in this palace— to me."

He just hoped they would at least hear him out, or he was sure that it would be his ruin. Telemachus would willingly throw himself off the window he had by his left if this ended terribly.

"How do you know it's love?" (Y/N) suddenly asked, eyes not leaving his. And Telemachus saw it. The vulnerability, the hesitation. "You were gone for a year, how do you know it's love?"

"Because no matter how far I was, how many nights I was seas away from you, my heart never left you, (Y/N). I thought about you every single day, like you would just appear from inside my mind and materialize. I missed you terribly, and I don't know if you—"

And then—gods above— it happened. Kind of strange, but Telemachus wouldn't complain right, really.

In reality, he hadn't noticed the way (Y/N) kept stealing glances at his lips, like they were debating if they should just go for it or just stop him from rambling any further with their hands over his mouth. Like they weren't sure how to deal with the situation. But in the end, they must have thought… to Hades with it. They dipped him.

His mind blanked. His breath hitched. He barely had time to register the warmth of their hands steadying him, grabbing him by the waist, the absolute audacity of them tilting him back like some swooning maiden—before their lips were on his.

Soft. Warm. Then, certain. Like they were hesitant at first but regained their footing.

Telemachus could feel himself giving in, forgetting about everything, melting into their touch while he lifted his hands to cup their face delicately, like he was afraid to touch them, as if they would vanish into thin air.

And then it was over. (Y/N) pulled away, standing him upright again as if they hadn't just ruined his entire existence with one kiss.

Telemachus just blinked, stunned, still processing what had just happened, his legs trembling and his brain foggy. He swore that he died, arrived at Elysium for a brief second and returned to his home. "That was—"

"Nice?" They smiled sheepishly, eyes wide with expectation.

"Yes!" He let out, rather loud he dared to admit, before composing himself and clearing his throat, giving a small nod. "I mean, yes… That was… Nice."

Then, quickly, before they could tease him further, he added,

"Would you… perhaps, allow me to do that again? This time, I'd like to lead…"

His guard just tilted their head, lips pursing before replying.

Then, simply, "No."

"No?" Telemachus' heart plummeted. "Did you not like it? Was it bad? Is it me?"

Their eyes widened slightly with surprise, as if realizing what he thought. (Y/N) shook their head, short strands of hair flowing before they brushed it behind their ear.

"No, I meant that…" Their voice grew softer, and, for the first time since he had met them, Telemachus could see the faintest hint of pink bloom across their cheeks. "… I want to do it again."

"Oh. Oh!" Telemachus let out, his face brightening. And before he had time to say yes, they reached for his waist again, their other hand gripping the soft fabric of his clothes to pull him closer.

Yes.

Yes, he could definitely live with letting them lead.

[supersapphicsimp]

alchemizing a new american dream

(a gaylor theory)

did you know a rumor among immigrants in the 1800s was that American streets were paved with gold? whether they meant it literally or it was just a shared expression, the phrase represents this idea that the nation was filled with endless hopes and dreams, opportunities, a chance at a better life. but this dream is one that has also been tied to over-idealizing material wealth.

the original wizard of oz by l. frank baum was published at the end of the Gilded Age, which was an era of hyperinflated artifice and material wealth that helped create the conditions for the great depression. economic catastrophe. the oz book is thought to be an allegory for this, with the yellow brick road representing the gold standard of currency that was used at that time, the original silver shoes representing the populist ideal to bring back a silver standard, and the green of oz representing fiat currency. but ultimately all of these things and oz itself are just artifice, and in the same way, the american dream has always been a false ideal and illusion—one that we are watching shatter and crumble around us in real time.

taylor’s american dreams

taylor has referred to the american dream either by name or allusion frequently. here are some notable examples:

• Fresh Out the Slammer:

“Now pretty baby, I’m running back home to you…to the house where you still wait up and that porch light gleams, to the one who says I’m the girl of his American dreams. And no matter what I’ve done it wouldn’t matter anyway, ain’t no way I’m gonna screw up now that I know what’s at stake here…”

• King of My Heart:

“Salute to me, I’m your American queen [original lyrics: salute to me like the American Dream] and we rule the kingdom inside my room…King of my heart, body and soul…And all at once, you’re all I want, I’ll never let you go….”

these are her only two songs that directly invoke the phrase “american dream” (though in KOMH it’s in the original lyrics but it still counts imo) but it’s important to know it’s not THE american dream. in KOMH she’s comparing herself to her muse’s version of the american dream. the same is true in FOTS. the one of his american dreams. FOTS and KOMH represent taylor’s ideal of her authentic american dream, which subverts the concept of the american dream = material wealth. KOMH is about her giving up “fancy stuff” for true spiritual wealth, and that’s what’s she’s running home to.

• Miss Americana & the Heartbreak Prince:

“No cameras catch my pageant smile…And ran for my life…voted most likely to run away with you. And I don’t want you to go, I don’t really wanna fight, cause nobody’s gonna win, I think you should come home…And I’ll never let you go cause I know this is a fight that someday we’re gonna win, just thought you should know.”

• Midnight Rain / High Infidelity

“My town was a wasteland…Full of cages, full of fences, pageant queens and big pretenders, but for some, it was paradise. like a postcard…pcture perfect, shiny family, holiday, peppermint candy”

“Your picket fence is sharp as knives, I was dancing around, dancing around it”

these three songs depict taylor’s struggles with the mainstream/culturally dominant ideal of the american dream and how it feels like a battle, a fight for her life, and ultimately something she decides she has to leave behind. these three songs also are all examples of the dynamic of duality that is present in much of her recent work: brand taylor vs real taylor, miss americana and the heartbreak prince, and they have to come together again for her new american dynasty to begin. MAATHP always sort of sounded like a duet in how she sings it, like the person calling her to come home is the heartbreak prince, and the person who ran for her life and was scared but won’t ever let the other go because she knows one day they’ll win is miss americana. so when miss americana comes home, she’s coming home to the heartbreak prince’s american dreams. midnight rain is another clear example of her duality bc it has taylor literally singing in two pitches, having jack warp her voice to sound masculine. and high infidelity seems like it addresses two different factions of her fanbase, and the regret caused by her “bending the truth” too far.

• lyrical connections: “i’ll never let you go” in both KOMH and MAATHP and “pageant (queens)” in both MAATHP and high infidelity

• The Last Great American Dynasty

this song fully subverts the over-romanticized ideals of the american dream. what’s more of an american dream than an american dynasty? but rebekah rebukes it—she doesn’t just reject it. she ruins it. she ruins everything, and she has a marvelous time while she does it, being the loudest woman the town has ever seen. obviously in the end, taylor becomes rebekah. she identifies with her gleeful destruction of sacred, repressive institutions, expectations, traditions, and standards.

then along comes the tayvis circus. the comparison makes itself on a daily basis with no effort; i constantly see tweets describing the two of them as “american royalty.” the persona that taylor takes on in the context of this stunt represents the epitome of “Miss Americana” the idealized american dream. that’s why so many gaylors were averse to the tayvis spectacle from the start—we knew the kind of discourse it would encourage, and it’s exactly the kind of discourse you would expect from a narrative that encouraged returning to “comforting traditional american values.”

but taylor is rebekah. taylor is going to have a marvelous time ruining everything, too. she’s going to have a marvelous time tearing down their ideal of the last great american dynasty. those are her stakes! and she warned us all, so many times:

after taylor removed TLGAD from the set, she played it exactly twice in the surprise song set. once to announce she is running, leaving behind the traditional image of the american dream that doesn’t suit her, and begging her fans to still want her when she’s not their shining mirrorball anymore;

and once to reclaim her vision for the american dream and declare her choice, to rebuild her american dynasty, and to explain why she had to do what she did. and that she doesn’t regret it. it just felt so good (ruining everything).

and the show immediately after the first time she sang TLGAD with Run, she played these:

laying out her vision of what her (well technically his but he is the heartbreak prince who is also taylor so) american dream looks like, of what exactly she’s running back home to. and it’s… gay as fuck. girl, you’re running back home to emily dickinson’s fuckass stone ivy cottage to be with your lesbian lover and they can call it what they want bc no one knows you like yourself? i know that’s right.

a few more crazy little details that must be documented:

• 7/24/24: There's a chain 'round your throat, piece of paper where I wrote, "I'll wait for you". There's a key on the chain, there's a picture in a frame. Take it with you and run, run from the law, darling, let's run, run from it all.

• 7/27/24 (the next show): “and he keeps the picture of you in his office downtown, and you understand now why they lost their minds and fought the wars. now, pretty baby, I'm running back home to you, true love…I'm running to the house where you still wait up, and that porch light gleams. // I want to wear his initial on a chain 'round my neck, chain 'round my neck, not because he owns me, but 'cause he really knows me, which is more than they could say, I. I recall late November, holding my breath, slowly I said, "You don't need to save me. But would you run away with me?" Yes. So yeah, it's a fire, it's a goddamn blaze in the dark, and you started it. You started it. So yeah, it's a war, it's the goddamn fight of my life, and you started it.

• the first time she played TLGAD was with Run, a song that mentions a key on a chain. the second time she played it was in Ours x TLGAD, and she had one of her famous glitches. she started to play and then stopped and said, “that’s the wrong key Um, so wish me more luck than that.”

• the day after the first time she played TLGAD with Run, she played FOTS x This Love and ivy x CIWYW. before she sang ivy, she hit the note off-key (it sounded super on purpose), then said “well. sometimes you just don’t hit the right note, do you?”

• the first “great american dynasty” is the vision of the american dream she’s running from bc it’s “the wrong key,” the wrong note. she’s running back home to her own vision of the american dream, using performance art to physically represent her intentionality in making the different choice this time, in hitting the right note. and this love is ours, so you can call it what you want. it’s not theirs to speculate if it’s wrong 💞🌈 and they can’t take what’s ours

for evermore 🤎