#and i think the series has POSSIBLY done better

[inksandpensblog]

In the wake of the “Beta” short, I find myself with a new outlook on the identity of Mitsi’s murderer and the ongoing debate over who it may be.

I wouldn’t say I’ve changed my mind, necessarily, on who I think the killer is.

It’s more that I no longer believe the killer should be Chosen and not Dark. And, for the same reason, neither do I believe that the killer should be Dark and not Chosen.

That reason being: because I’m no longer basing my thoughts on what I believe the current story is lacking.

My insistence on Chosen being the killer has never been based on evidence, but rather has always been based on the belief that Chosen being the killer would make for a more solid, more cohesive, and overall better story. My belief was, given what setup we had at the time and the arc-structure it suggested, that it was what the story needed; more specifically, that it was what Chosen needed, and needed desperately.

Chosen has needed character development for a while. And ever since episode 11, it has been my belief that Chosen killing Mitsi is what would finally give him the development he’s been lacking.

But to my pleasant surprise, “Beta” gives Chosen some of that sorely needed development. It shows us what changed for Chosen, and when. We didn’t have that before.

Before the “Beta” short, back when Chosen was still in dire need of development, I believed that it would be best for the story if Chosen were the one to kill Mitsi.

In the wake of the “Beta” short, Chosen is no longer in sore need of development. Granted, he still needs some, but “Beta” has done a lot for him in such a short runtime. Therefore, the story doesn’t need Chosen to be identified as Mitsi’s killer anymore, and Chosen doesn’t need to be the one who killed her anymore.

The possibility that Dark may be the killer no longer feels like the weaker storytelling choice to me, because Chosen’s entire potential as a fleshed-out and interesting character is no longer riding solely on whether or not he killed Mitsi.

Personally I do still think it would make for a more cohesive story for Chosen to be the killer, given how Chosen’s arc this season seems to be paralleling Alan’s arc over the whole series, but for the first time I find myself actually intrigued by the possibility of Dark being the killer, because for the first time I feel like it actually has some storytelling merit to it.

[the-everqueen]

And please give me all your unpopular opinions on Sandman 🙏🏼

[maniacal laughter]

we know my feelings about hob gadling

dreamling is not THAT compelling

the tragic end of morpheus' arc in the comix fulfills a narrative function, which is the most in-character thing it could do

in this house we love and respect danny!dream

the only good thing to come out of the spinoffs was nick robles' danny art (and possibly jt4's nightmare country but we have yet to see how he concludes it)

if the neilman weren't a coward, he would have cast toshiro mifune as destruction for s2 ("horse," you might say, "mifune died almost 20 years ago, how would he get the role?" that's not my job to figure out. i would have also accepted manny jacinto, though)

bailey bass should be delirium

the comix, the series, and the fandom are too anglocentric (perils of an english speaking creator and audience)

i have Thoughts about how Despair in the comix is the only fat Endless and also the one who is most often drawn as inhuman. i also have Thoughts about how Despair is the significant fat representation in the series.

the neilman and the fandom should read saidiya hartman

[anghraine]

Today's unhinged "good God I hate how much extreme generosity I'm expected to extend to the Peter Jackson films by people who make wildly bad faith arguments about things I like" rant:

I am very deeply tired of people insisting with zero evidence that of course the LOTR films are imperfect, but the difficulties of adapting LOTR are such that it wasn't possible for them to be better than they were—in, apparently, any respect. They just couldn't be done better, at all, because it was so hard to make something watchable at all.

This is always just like ... really? Really?? Just what prevented them from making better decisions about anything? What exactly made casting every actor of color as barely differentiated villainous hordes in the twenty-first century so necessary and unavoidable? The glamorization and vast expansions of battle scenes and insertion of "heroic" war crimes was the highest film as a medium could aspire to in the early 2000s because of what insuperable force?

What made it impossible to give Arwen a coherent character arc? The films could not have been made without the underlying assumption that most of the cast are NPCs who will only do the right thing, when they will, if prodded or manipulated or influenced by main characters? In what way is this an inevitability of adaptation or film that simply couldn't have been conceptualized differently, much less better?

There is zero explanation or justification for why any of this stuff (or the myriad other flaws) had to be that way and couldn't have been done better in any way at any point. It's just stated that the films that exist must be the best films that could have existed because they're the ones that do exist and are popular. QED.

That doesn't make any sense, though, and it doesn't convince anyone who doesn't already agree. The idea that they could not have been better in any way (including their worst quality, which again, is the extremely racist casting), that some force was preventing not only the actual filmmakers but any filmmakers that could possibly exist from doing anything better just seems patently absurd.

You can like them and respect what they did achieve without demanding that everyone buy into a baseless and irrational argument that their pop culture success means nothing about them could possibly have been done any better. Look, I was in my mid to late teens at the time. I remember the early 2000s quite well. It wasn't now, but we are not talking about an age so divorced from our own that any of these things were somehow fundamental to the media landscape.

There are ways in which the LOTR films were very good that were essential to their popularity then and now. This does not require anyone to accept that it was literally impossible for them to be better than they are or that some defense is required against every criticism of them ever.

I am not, incidentally, talking about removing Bombadil, an entirely understandable and defensible decision that the film defenders in my notes somehow always feel the need to bring up. I know that changes had to be made, that adaptation is not a word for word transcription, that it would always be a difficult text to adapt, that structurally minor elements had to go, that they are cinematically beautiful films that a lot of work and love went into. I know this. EVERYONE knows this, because for the last 20 years it's been impossible to criticize anything about them without being reminded. Their accomplishments, and their existence, do not mean that any choice made by the filmmakers must definitionally have been the right call and could not possibly have been better in any way.

[sunflowerwinds]

sugar, sugar | v.a

summary: vi has crept up into your mind and is keeping put so to try to relieve some of that bubbling crush energy, you bake her some protein muffins. after delivering them to her, she invites you to isha’s birthday party. meeting her entire family is nerve wracking but you’re welcome with open arms.

pairing: fem!reader x vi arcane

contains: modern!au, kick-boxer!vi, reader is an actual sweetheart, MY family (vander, isha, ekko, jinx, & sevika mentions), fluff and flirty tension, kind of slowburn but not really.

word count: 5.5K

a/n: what do y’all think of my new pfp?😝 i’m so glad everyone has enjoyed that first part of this little series. the overwhelming amount of support has touched my heart, i’m so sorry this took two weeks to come out i will try and be faster with the next part <3 & would 3 parts be too short? lmk in the replies!

— TWO

Making protein muffins was harder than you thought.

You had tried out multiple recipes with different flavors within the span of two days and it was driving your grandmother and your sister up the wall. Her kitchen now smelled like a mixture of all the different scents that were giving her a headache.

They were either dry, not enough flavor, too dense, not fluffy, too strong, etc. The list went on. But finally, on the third day of anxiously cooking, you perfected a beautiful and delicious batch of pumpkin muffins with a few blots of chocolate chips.

Ever since you found out that Vi worked at a kickboxing studio, it sparked an idea in your brain. You could bake some protein muffins to give her. Worried she wouldn’t like them, you double checked with her. You open your text thread with Vi, grinning at the last message she had sent you of the actual address of the studio so that you wouldn’t get lost.

Anxiously tapping your fingers on the steering wheel, you stare at the sign above the studio with hesitation. You had done yourself up a bit; just a tad. Okay, a little more than a tad.

This was Vi’s first time seeing you outside of work and you wanted to make a better impression than messily tossed up hair and bundled up layered outfits. You sported a mini black skirt with a pair of opaque tights with an over the shoulder cherry red sweater, your hair left in its natural state. You stare at the black marker writing of Vi’s name on the box in the passenger's seat of your car.

Would she think you were trying too hard?

No, no, no overthinking, you scold yourself. You tug down your sun visor on your driver’s side to double check your makeup before grabbing your purse and the box of muffins for Vi. You open your driver's side to step out onto the gravel parking lot, sucking in a deep breath to calm your nerves as you tug on the cold handle to the door of the studio.

The moment you stepped into the dim lit area, you spotted Vi almost immediately. A black compression athletic tank hugged her upper body, showing off her muscular upper body. Her bandaged hands were landing blows to a punching bag hanging from the ceiling. The sound of her soft grunts and the clinking of the chain holding it up the heavy vinyl bag echoed within the space.

You stand at the edge of the large mat covering the area, unknowingly frozen in place at the sight of Vi’s veins popping out of her biceps with each punch she was throwing. You snap out of it when you realize how long you might’ve been standing there for, clearing your throat and shaking your head at how embarrassing that was.

“Vi, hi!” You wave from across the rubber gym tiles at her panting figure, a bright smile on your face.

Vi lowers her balled up wrapped fists that had been previously punching the bag to wave back at you, a smile creeping onto her lips at the sight of you holding the little tray of homemade treats. You looked like a doll out of place in this sweat-ridden studio in your adorably cozy outfit.

Vi made her way over to where you stood at the edge of the mat, eyes panning up and down as subtly as possible. Seeing her outfit up close caused a heat to tickle the tips of your ears. You swore you could see her abs through the material.

“Hey, cupcake. Those for me?”

“Yep! Thought I’d drop them off before I… head out.” You cleared your throat, nervously smiling at her as you fiddled with the cardboard of the box you had bought for this.

Vi grabs a small towel from a foldable chair where parents would sit through classes to wipe over the back of her sweat-ridden neck. She was so close to you that you could feel the heat radiating from her skin. You couldn’t tell if you were staring at her as obviously as you thought. Worried you were going to seem like an absolute creep, your eyes blink as they focus on her face.

“Yeah? You have plans today?” Vi hangs the towel around her neck, crossing her arms over her chest.

The movement caused your eyes to flicker down to the protruding muscle. You were sure this time you were staring as her dark tattoos were glistening underneath the thin layer of moisture from her workout. God, you could hear your grandma now teasing you for getting distracted by muscles of all things.

“I mean I’m just going to the grocery store. Need a few more things for Isha’s cake.” You nod to confirm, flickering your eyes back up to hers.

They were somehow even more captivating than her biceps. Her lips twitch into a small grin, nodding slowly.

“The people at the store are very lucky.”

You couldn’t fight the smile that crept onto your lips.

“Shut up,” you look around at the equipment and trophies around the room to try and hide the heat that was undoubtedly forming on your cheeks. “Were you just working out here? Or did you have a class?”

“Yeah, I had a class earlier but it was for mostly 6 to 8 year olds so they didn’t beat me up too bad this time,” Vi jokes as she reminds you of her injuries from the last time you saw her.

You chuckle as you can only imagine seeing Vi with a whole group of children, gently encouraging them to take hits at her. Oh, your heart skipped at the thought.

“Yeah, I mean you look good now.” You blurt out without thinking.

Taking way too long to realize what had stumbled out of your mouth, Vi’s brows raise at your words as the faintest of smirks forms on her lips.

“Yeah?”

Your eyes flicker up to hers, self-consciousness washing over you once that realization sets in. Your mouth opens as you grip the box as some sort of comfort to ease the humiliation creeping up your neck.

“Not that you don’t look good all the time because you–you do! I mean, I don’t see you everyday but I’m sure you do,” you try and recover, voice becoming softer as you trail off.

Vi unfolded her arms from her chest to reach forward to rest them on your shoulders, faintly chuckling at your panic. “Cupcake, relax. I knew what you meant.”

You suck in a deep breath at her touch but you mask it as attempting to calm down from your frantic words.

“Okay, yeah. I’ll just leave these with you now,” you pat the top of the box, looking into her eyes. “I’ll see you soon so you can pick up the cake at the shop?”

Vi nodded in agreement with the set plan, taking the box of muffins from your hands. You nearly frown at the loss of touch that was somehow burning onto your skin even though you were wearing a thicker sweater.

“Yeah, I’ll see you soon but,” she clears her throat, moving the box to rest on one of her forearms as she brushes her front pieces of hair to the side. “Did you want to come to Isha’s birthday party?”

“Seriously?” Your smile widens.

Vi nods, eyes crinkling a bit from her smile matching your own.

“Are you sure?” You question, fiddling with the sleeves of your sweater. “It won’t be awkward not being family or anything?”

“No, I mean. It’s a small party but I think you’d have fun,” Vi shrugs her shoulders, suddenly becoming more sheepish. “Isha wants you there. Couldn’t stop talking about the nice bakery lady.”

“Just Isha?” You tilt your head, hopeful that she would give you the answer that you craved.

Vi taps on the box with a small smile. “I want you there, too.”

Oh, your gram would be jumping with glee seeing this interaction. Your face ignites a flame at her honesty, nodding with a beaming smile.

“I’ll be there. I’ll just bring the cake then.” You nod, pushing back flyways from your hair.

“Okay, good. I’ll text you the address, cupcake.”

You nod for what felt like the millionth time at the pink haired girl, taking a step back to try to force yourself to leave her warm presence.

“Okay and if you like those, uh, muffins, let me know if you want any other protein snacks. I like a good baking challenge.” You motion to the muffins.

Please say yes, you internally begged.

“I will. Though, I doubt I won’t like them if you’re the one baking them,” Vi assures your frantic mind.

You grin at her awkwardly, not knowing how to take these little flirty gestures she would throw at you. At least, you thought they were supposed to be flirty.

“Okay, okay,” you wave your hands, chuckling sheepishly to yourself as you realize you’ve probably overstayed your welcome. “I’ll leave you to… your boxing stuff.”

Vi chuckles at your wording, pointing to the clear door.

“Have fun shopping. I’ll see you soon.”

“See you, Vi.”

You felt like throwing up from your nerves.

You had texted Vi later that day after dropping off the muffins what you should wear so that you wouldn’t be either too overdressed or underdressed. It was a child's birthday party, for God’s sake but you still didn’t want to be too out of place especially around her family.

from vi ♥︎ | Do you have any options?

to vi ♥︎ | kind of? i have ideas of what i could wear but i’m stuck :/

from vi ♥︎ | Let me see and I’ll tell you what looks best!

You nearly dropped your phone on your face at the message. Standing up from your bed, you scurried to your closet to pick out two options as you didn’t want to bombard her with photos of yourself. You quickly change in your planned outfits minus the shoes, sending both of them to her. You were panting from how you switched from one to the next.

from vi ♥︎ | Fuck, you look good in both

from vi ♥︎ | I was expecting this to be an easier decision but you really just look good in either.

to vi ♥︎ | violet :(

Could she tell how flustered you were from behind the screen?

from vi ♥︎| I’m serious

from vi ♥︎ | But if you want me to choose, I’ll say the first one!

to vi ♥︎ | thank youuu! i was stressed about that lol

from vi ♥︎ | You’re going to be fine. I promise :)

to vi ♥︎ | really?

from vi ♥︎ | Yes. You’re the lady bringing the cake. No one can hate the lady bringing the cake, duh.

to vi ♥︎ | yeah, yeah, okay. i’ll relax now.

Now you were standing at the front door of the small suburban home in that very outfit that Vi had chosen; a white tee with an espresso brown cardigan over it and a pair of your favorite baggy dark wash jeans. Your hair was half-up, half-down and your cleanest pair of Docs. You rang the doorbell just a few seconds ago, patiently waiting for someone to answer the door.

If you held your breath, you could hear muffled footsteps approaching the wooden door. The sound of the locks unlatching signals you to straighten your back, preparing yourself for whoever was going to answer the door. The hinges creak as it swings open to reveal Vi, sporting a welcoming smile.

Similar to you, she was wearing a brown cut off sleeve top, a white tank top underneath the open torso portion and a pair of black jeans. You try not to read into the matching colors too much.

“Hi! I was so scared I got the wrong house,” you chuckle as you stare into her eyes.

“Nope, you got it. Everyone is in the back. Come on,” Vi reaches for your hand, tugging you through the small house halls.

You nearly drop the cake as you urge her to slow down, releasing soft chuckles at her eagerness. You glance around at the cozy walls of the home, catching a few glances at a few family photos hanging and set up on shelfs. You made a mental note to try and sneak inside to get a closer look at those.

You step through a white chipping back door, Vi guiding you to the birthday party set-up for the precious child. Green streamers hung on the wooden fence to appear as vines as a photo op and a foldable table that was filled with wrapped and bagged presents with Isha’s name in balloons with a few animal print ones surrounding the inflatable letters as music played from a speaker. It wasn’t the coldest day as it was nearing the end of November but there was a slight breeze and the sun was shining beautifully to really wrap up the sight of this unknown family.

You hold up the cake underneath the white box, subconsciously gripping onto Vi’s hand due to the anxiety swimming through your veins.

“Come on. I want you to meet everyone,” Vi insists, a charming smile on her face as she walks up to a group of people that were sitting at a round table that had a jungle leaf tablecloth over it.

The whole table had cups of drinks in front of them, talking amongst each other with animated features.

“Hey guys,” Vi speaks up, her hand still holding yours gently.

A chorus of greetings overwhelms you in a good way as she goes around the table to name them off one by one.

“Okay, this is Jinx, my other sister,” she points to a pale skinned girl with two electric blue hip length braids, a few strands coming from the front to frame her face.

The girl smiles at you with kindness, eyes widening as she seems to realize who you are.

“You’re the bakery girl? That donut was delicious. I have full trust that the cake will be amazing,” Jinx nodded with a wink, leaning into the darker skinned boy next to her.

“That’s Ekko,” Vi chuckles as she points at white haired boy.

“Hi. Nice to meet you,” he grins at you, nodding his head at you to show his acknowledgement of you.

“Hi!” You reciprocate the gesture, looking at the more broad woman on the other side of him.

“And Sevika. Don’t let that mean face scare you. Just wait until Isha comes down from the bouncy house.” Vi gave your hand a squeeze, a teasing grin on her face.

Sevika huffs at the pink haired girl's words but manages to press a semi-warm smile on her face in your direction. You nod with a more timid ‘hi’ leaving your lips. You didn’t want to say it out loud but she scared you a bit.

Okay, she scared you a lot.

“I think my dad’s inside but I’ll go let Isha know you’re here. Be right back.” Vi, after what felt like ages, released your hand to walk over to the bouncy house that was filled with a few more kids around Isha’s age.

The second her warm palm left your own, a wave of alarm washed over your features now being left alone with people that were closest to her. You turn to the group with the calmest expression you could muster to attempt to hide how nerve-wracking this was for you.

“You can relax, you know,” Jinx was the first to speak, tilting her head at your tense figure. “Here. I can take the cake. I’ll put it in the fridge.”

She stood up, reaching her pale hands out to you to take the cardboard box from you. You thank her quietly as you allow her to relieve you of that worry, leaving you alone with Ekko and Sevika.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be awkward,” you shake your head, taking the seat opposite to Sevika to leave Jinx’s spot still open.

“Vi told us how nervous you were so we were kind of expecting it,” Ekko admits which makes you wince a bit. “But, hey, we could do some ice breakers? Tell us something that’ll ease the tension.”

You nod at Ekko’s offer, pondering for a moment as you pick out a random fact from the depths of your brain’s memory log.

“Oh, I went to the hospital when I was 7 because I swallowed my Polly Pocket’s purse because my grandma said I had ‘wanted to know what it tasted like’.” You offer, glancing between the two strangers in front of you.

Sevika raised one of her palms to cover her mouth like she was trying to hide her amusement from your sentence. Ekko’s eyes widened as he snorted back a laugh, causing you to proudly smile at yourself on succeeding on breaking the ice just a bit.

“Jinx nearly burned my hair off when we were kids. She was obsessed with making homemade bombs,” Ekko shared with you, pointing to a mark in his eyebrows. “I still can’t grow hair in this spot on my eyebrow because of it.”

“I got this scar from her kicking me in the face when she wouldn’t go to the dentist when she was 9,” Sevika pointed at her half an inch scar on her top lip with a shake of her head.

“Okay so what I’m hearing is to stay clear of Jinx,” you joke.

This seemed to ease the tension between you and the two completely, them nodding to confirm. Slowly but surely, everyone started sharing stories of their childhood as did you. You learned alot about Vi and her little family through these two, feeling more connected to them already. As you shared what your jobs were like, you feel a smaller frame tackle you from the side. You look down to see a head of wild bronze waves cling onto your arm.

It was undoubtedly Isha. Vi stood behind her with a sweet smile, folding her arms over her chest before she pats Ekko on the back as she sits herself down on the other side of you. You send her a quick glance, her brows raising as if to check up on you and you nod to assure her.

“Hey birthday girl,” you look down at her, golden eyes staring into yours.

She makes a delighted sound, snuggling more into you. You rub a hand over her back for a moment before raising your hands to sign that she looked cute, motioning to her adorable birthday sash and bunny ears over her black and white striped tee.

Signing right back to you with an elated smile, she says; ‘you look beautiful.’

Your heart tightens at her kind words, signing a ‘thank you’ before tugging her into a gentle embrace. Her back was a bit damp from what you assume is the sweat from jumping around in the bouncy castle.

“She’s excited for her cake,” Vi hums as she stares down at her sister with a teasing grin.

Isha nods enthusiastically at her words to confirm said excitement, looking over to Ekko and Sevika and signing something that you didn’t pick up due to her turning away from you. They both nod, eyes following over to Vi’s figure next to you with raised brows. You turn to look at Vi in confusion at the silent communication but choose to mind your own business as Vi’s cheeks seem to match her hair now. You didn’t want to embarrass her further.

“Alright, who’s hungry? The pizza’s here!” A deep English accent comes from behind the group, a burly yet kind looking man comes from the back door which you came from carrying five pizza boxes.

Jinx trails behind him with two bags of ice stacked on her own arms.

“You hungry, cupcake?” Vi places a hand on your shoulder, jerking her head over to the man.

You suck in a deep breath at her words, feeling Isha’s fingers wrap around your own that were resting in your lap. You were unbelievably hungry but knowing that this was going to be your first impression of Vi's father made your stomach churn, attempting to suppress your hunger.

But you push through.

“Yeah, I could eat,” you nod to confirm, turning your head to the side to give her a composed smile.

Sevika and Ekko followed you and Vi’s lead as you both stood up from your seats again to walk across the slightly overgrown grass, nearly tripping as a few more children passed by your hips and legs to run towards the table full of cardboard boxes of pizza.

“Hey, hey, slow down. One at a time,” the man told the group of kids, pointing at them to grab the disposable plates.

“Dad,” Vi called, taking your right hand once again while Isha still clung to your other.

“And who is this, Violet?” He questions his daughter as he places a slice on a child's plate in the line they formed.

“Hi!” You speak up before Vi could as you introduce yourself.

The man nods at your introduction, a friendly smile on his face as he plates another child’s plate. His eyes flicker to his eldest daughter with a raise of his brows before focusing his attention on you.

“Vander. Vi’s told me alot about you,” he states as he points to the pink haired girl standing next to you. “You’re the sweet lady who made Isha’s birthday cake. Got to say, I saw it in the fridge and it’s absolutely perfect. Thank you for doing that for her.”

You felt overwhelmed by the compliments from the man, strangely having the urge to hug him but only tighten your grip on Vi and Isha’s hands.

“Oh, it really was so much fun to make too. I don’t get a lot of cake orders so I was excited to test myself, I guess,” you assure the man of your adoration with the job.

“You work up an appetite baking? We’ve got some fine cuisine here,” his voice was playful as he motions to the greasy boxes.

You nod to confirm which resulted in a strong Dad-like laugh to leave Vanders’ throat before he raised a hand to clap on your shoulder, tugging you towards the boxes now that all of the children had gotten their own pizza slices. You release the two sister’s hands before looking up at the man.

The entirety of the birthday party quickly became a party game frenzy after everyone hounded down their greasy food. There was cup stacking; Vi won that one, pin the tail on the donkey; Isha won that, limbo; you almost broke your back trying to do that, etc. You saw a more eccentric and playful side of Vi, cursing her for being such a bright person around her family.

It made her all the more attractive.

When you ended up being her partner for the wheelbarrow race, you felt like a freak for those good few seconds where you were holding her legs up by her ankles so she could use her hands to ‘run’ across the grass. You kept your eyes straight forward for as long as possible.

They lingered a bit downward because why the hell did her ass look good in black jeans? You nearly won but Isha and one of their little cousins who had come to the party won that round due to you being… well, distracted for a moment. She stuck the middle finger up and stuck her tongue out at Vi quickly before Vander could see, causing you and Vi to gasp before she celebrated with her cousin again with a cheeky grin.

Your real enemy ended up being the three legged race. You and Vi’s hips were touching, arms interlocked as a bandana was being tied around your thighs to keep you from separating. You suck in a deep breath as Sevika tightens the fabric, patting the area to tell you two it was good.

“Good luck,” Sevika tells the two of you, standing back up to move on to Ekko and Jinx who were next in the lineup.

Vi grins at the elder, looking over at you as she brushes her hair out of face.

“Who do you think is going to win, huh?”

“I know you want me to say us but I have high hopes for Ekko and Jinx. She’s very scrappy,” you admit with a soft laugh, your hand twiddling with a loose fabric on your cardigan.

Vi nods slowly in agreement at your words.

“And Ekko?” She hums.

“He matches that,” you lean in closer before pulling back as the wind blows your hair a bit.

This Vi chuckles at, not denying that accusation. Vander moves to the front very end of the fence of the backyard, cupping his large hands around his mouth to shout the countdown.

“On your marks,” he yells, “get set.”

He pauses dramatically before raising his left hand upwards to mimic a flag and slam it back down before yelling out: “Go!”

You and Vi immediately start to move yourselves forward, Jinx whining that you two were cheating already. Vi’s hard bicep tug into your own as she tried to keep you two from tripping.

Isha and one of her cousins were catching up to you quickly, their little legs beating you. Some force was on your side that day as you had stepped forward with your free leg and rolled your ankle a bit on what felt like a toy.

It happened too fast for you to comprehend but you fell to the ground. You turned to your back side without thinking and nearly twisted your ankle doing so.

Vi’s hand attempts to grab your forearm but in doing so, falls over with you. Her body covers your own, her weight laying on top of your own. You groan at the impact hitting your stomach and chest, looking down at your legs to see that the fabric of the bandana had ripped which was what caused Vi’s body to be on you and not next. Her body shifts to lift her upper body up to relieve that ache in your chest.

Vi lifts her head to stare down at you with a concerned expression, hands on either side of your head.

“Shit, are you okay?”

You tilt your head down to how Vi’s hips were pressed into yours and look back up to stare into her twisted expression.

“Yeah, I’m… good,” you lied through your teeth as the back of your head was now throbbing.

Vi’s eyes were searching your own for any sort of discomfort. Your chests were centimeters apart as you breathed heavily to try and catch your breath, eyes boring into one another's. Suddenly, your head and backache were forgotten about. You swore for just a moment Vi’s eyes flickered down to your lips before pushing up off of you, grunting as she stood to her feet.

She brushed off her jeans before leaning forward to wrap her hand around your forearm to help you up and off the grass. You allow her to tug you upwards to your feet, avoiding her glaze like the plague.

“Ekko and Jinx take the cake!” You hear Vander start to clap, wincing out loud. “You two alright? Kind of got caught up in the competition for a moment there.”

“Fine, Dad,” Vi replies as she watches you brush off your own legs, sucking in a deep breath. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“A little headache but I’ll survive, Vi.” You shake your head, brushing your hair out of your face with a lighthearted chuckle.

You two sadly couldn’t speak for longer as Vander announced it was time for cake. Vi’s hand lingered on your arm as she ushered the two of you to the set-up, watching as Jinx carefully came out with the lit birthday cake. Your eyes round with admiration at Isha scrambling to sit still in her chair as her big golden eyes widen as everyone starts to sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to her.

Watching the scene unfold sent a bittersweet sense of comfort, remembering how you were once that small with a family like this. You hoped Isha could have this forever, security and love wrapped into one. If a tear left your eye, you’d disguise it as it being from the impact just a few moments ago.

The party died down slowly as adults and other family members came to pick up the other children that were at the function, getting pieces of the cake shoved into their palms that Vi had been praising since she took her first bite. Feeling like you had overstayed your welcome as the family was now gathered in the kitchen area to clean up, you quietly tell Vi that you should probably head home.

“Oh, yeah, I’ll walk you out,” Vi holds her finger up to Jinx, Ekko, Sevika, and Vander who were in the middle of a conversation.

“Aw, what? You have to go home already?” Jinx furrows her brows, huffing out a breath. “I didn’t even get to embarrass Vi in front of you yet.”

You chuckle at her words while Vi grumbles a sound of annoyance at her sister.

“I’m sure you’ll do it soon enough. And yeah, I got baking duties to tend to.”

“Well, I hope we get to see you more often and not just so you can bring us cake,” Jinx stepped forward to give you a quick hug.

You pat her back with a new sense of welcoming into Vi’s family, nodding in agreement with that statement. You say goodbye to everyone, making sure to sign Isha one more ‘Happy Birthday’ to which she signs back what you think is ‘Bye, pretty cake lady.’

As you walk down the halls to the front door, Vi questions: “What are you baking next?”

Catching you off guard, you ponder for a moment.

“Well, I’ve been dying to make some cinnamon rolls but kneading the dough can be tiring.” You huff as you watch Vi open the door for you, allowing you to step onto the gray concrete walkway that leads to the driveway. “Why?”

“Just… wondering.”

Then an idea sparks in your head as you lean against your car, turning to face Vi with a hesitant smile.

“Did you want to come over to mine to help me bake them?” You offer quickly before you could fumble and retract the statement.

Vi’s dark brows raise into her hairline at your invitation.

“You just want me to knead the dough, don’t you?” She teases.

You blow out a breath of air as you shrug your shoulders as if it wasn’t the first thing you thought of. “I mean, if you really want to. I wouldn’t mind it.”

Vi purses her lips as she nods, trying to repress her beaming smile. “Yes, I do want to.”

A sense of accomplishment washes over you at how you successfully made it through today without having any major screw-ups.

“I really had a good time today. I forgot how much fun birthday parties can be,” you grin sheepishly as you stand by your car, the sunset lighting up the side of your face beautifully.

Vi’s smile only grew at how stunning you looked.

“I told you that you would. You should come over more,” Vi shrugged her shoulders, tilting her head at you.

You hum with a playful smile as you bump your shoulder with hers. “So I can get multiple concussions? I don’t think so.”

“Well, I can promise I can try to prevent as many of those as possible.”

You chuckle out an ‘okay’ at her words, fiddling with your cardigan sleeve. There was a beat of silence between the two of you, the soft breeze sending shivers down your spine. Your bad habit of admiring her silently; nearly creepily hit you when you made eye contact with her, her brows raising at you challengingly.

“Right, yeah, so I’ll let you know when I have everything to make the cinnamon rolls,” you stated as your hand hovered your driver's side door handle, snapping out of your temporary trance.

Vi’s arms folded over the front of her chest, scuffing her shoes on the concrete of their driveway as she rocked her on her heels.

You find her eyes once again, taking in a confidence wielding breath as taking a step forward to wrap your arms around her neck. Vi was taken aback for half a second, breath hitching before she let her arms drop from their spot to hold you up your torso with one arm as the other raised to cradle the back of your head with her hand. You bury your head into her neck to cling onto the warmth for as long as you could.

“Thank you again for coming, cupcake. I’ll see you soon, alright?” Vi says gently into your temple, sliding her hand off of your head.

“Yeah,” you suck in a deep breath, “I’ll see you.”

Achingly doing so, you detach yourself from her embrace to finally get into your car. Vi stood in the driveway as you reversed and drive off, waving at you until you were down the road.

previous part -> next part

TAG-LIST: @strawberrykidneystone @lovinglynny @kylorey25 @loserbaby66 @eddiesdrummergf @jokermoonie @ranxiaolong @morphids @gayandcurious @oatmatchalatte @iamastar @saviourcomplexgf @vihxh7 @jinxjinxjinx12 @krilara @unear7hly @magical-rush

[l1tw1ck]

Kaeya's Dream

Sub!Bottom!FTM Kaeya x Dom!Top!Half Monster AMAB Reader

❄️ Word Count: 1,238 ❄️

Thanks to a little push from "cupid", one of Kaeya's dirty fantasies becomes a reality in the most authentic way possible.

AFAB Language Used | [Series]

CW: CNC/Non-Con, Somnophilia, Asphyxiation/Choking, Womb Fucking, Size Difference, Groping, Squirting, Creampie, Virginity Loss, Sexual Overstimulation, Belly Bulge, Cum Inflation, lotsss of cum

“You're so tight, Kaeya.” You murmur, forcing your cock inside his previously virginal pussy. Your hand is pressing down on his head, asphyxiating him with his pillow. “Anyone ever told you that?”

Kaeya’s response is muffled. He's starting to lose consciousness.

“I think I like you better like this.” Your cock hits his cervix. He makes a loud noise. “I’m still not fully inside, I wonder how much your body can take.” You pull back a bit then thrust. His legs weakly flail around as you continue.

The tip of your cock enters his womb—

Kaeya slowly wakes up. A door opened. He keeps his eyes closed, ignoring the extreme wetness in his boxers, and listens.

His bedroom door opens next. He prepares to fight back.

“He's asleep.”

He instantly recognizes your voice. He calms down, then focuses on his throbbing pussy. He wonders what you're doing here so late at night. He hopes you're about to do what he thinks you're going to do.

Your body forces you to walk towards him. You can't stop yourself. Your hands are shaking aggressively.

He doesn't move an inch as you gently peel the covers off of him. His heart races. You push his shirt up then skillfully pull his boxers off in the most discreet way possible. You're gonna fuck him.

“Huh.” You trace your finger along the blue tattoo on his pelvis. “What’s this..?”

He doesn't understand what you mean and he doesn't have time to think about it either thanks to something hot and hard flopping against his stomach. Your dick. Kaeya twitches subtly, it feels big.

He feels your hand reaching for one of his tits, gently groping him as you jerk off. It almost feels like you're being possessed, like you're watching yourself from afar. You don't want to hurt him but you have to accept that you will. You promise to take responsibility once this is all over.

You curse quietly as you suddenly reach your climax, almost fully coating the outer parts of his cunt with your seed. Kaeya tries not to moan. Your cum on his sensitive folds feels way too good. You spread his legs and ease your cock inside him, making a silent apology in your head like a prayer. You would've preferred to finger him first. You're not fully human and your dick proves that, it's gonna hurt for him.

Somehow, Kaeya doesn't move despite the major stretching of his pussy. He never thought about what your dick would look and feel like, but he loves it.

“You're…so tight.” You groan. You bring your hands back up to his chest, rubbing his hard brown nipples with your thumbs. You hate that it feels good. It shouldn't, but you can't lie to yourself. The only stimulation you’ve experienced has been done with your own hands. It's impossible for you to not get excited. “Kaeya..” You whimper. You roughly grip his tits, getting even more horny from the sight of the bulge in his stomach.

He's so tiny compared to you and yet, he fits you so well. You’ve reached his cervix, you can go further. He can take it, all of it. You know he can. You feel dizzy as you begin to thrust into it.

Kaeya gasps and his eyes shoot open. “Wh–” He lets out a loud, high pitched moan as you hit it again, this time entering his womb. Kaeya squirts. It's just like his dream. But this time, he gets to go all the way. The corners of his lips twitch.

You try to apologize, but you can't get a word out. You release his chest from your hold and reach for his throat, choking him. “Don't scream or fight, okay?” Your mouth once again moves on its own. Your body shivers at the view of him weakly gasping for air. Ice cold tears run down his cheeks, you have no idea those tears are of pleasure and not pain. “Just let me do this..”

His eyes roll to the back of his skull as you pound into him and make sure his inner walls remember your shape. He feels lightheaded. He can't believe it feels this good. There's nothing he can compare this to, his lousy dildos don't even hold a candle to you.

You can't deny how sexy he looks right now. “God, Kae..” You manage to say it on your own. “I’m gonna fucking break you, baby, ruin you so you never forget me. So nobody else can satisfy you but me.” You return to autopilot. Your voice has a possessive growl to it.

Kaeya comes again. He can't believe he hasn't passed out yet. His tattoo is glowing. You use your other hand to touch it, making him arch his back and squirt. “Ffuh- fuck~!” He mewls as you continue to touch it. He's in a permanent state of extreme pleasure, you're definitely going to break him. This is better than any of the fantasies he's had.

“You take me so well, Kae.” You stop, burying yourself deep inside him, then pump him full of your seed. Your supposed “possession” and your true consciousness start to meld together, you feel more in control of your body than ever before. You run your fingers through his hair and grab it. “You belong to me now.”

Kaeya's vision blurs and his lashes flutter as he loses consciousness.

You pull out, then flip him onto his stomach. You enter him again, somewhat plugging up the copious amounts of cum inside him. You're still hard despite everything, you're running on lust. You grab his waist and keep fucking him. You moan his name. There's no way you can leave him now.

Even if he hates you, you're going to keep him in your grasp. No matter what.

Kaeya finally wakes up. The sun is shining. His voice cracks as he feels his womb being penetrated again. He's lying on his side, his leg raised high in the air. His vision is too blurry to see properly. He calls your name sleepily, his voice is hoarse. There's an extremely abnormal amount of cum dripping out of him and on the bed. He can vaguely make out a bulge in his stomach, not in the shape of your cock but more so…bloated? Or full of cum. He shudders.

“Just one more time.” You roughly thrust into him. “You don't know how good you feel, Kae, it's addicting.” You huff.

Kaeya comes as he realizes you’ve been doing this all night. Using his body exactly how he wants you to. He’d rather spend the rest of his life as your cock sleeve.

He blinks a couple times then notices the glowing blue tattoo on his pelvis. He reaches for it then immediately pulls away as if struck by a lightning of pleasure. “Fuck~”

“Your tattoo is so hot, Kae–” You moan at the feeling of his pussy squeezing you.

“Wh- where did it co—” Kaeya mewls as you reach over to touch it again. “Oh my God–!" His toes curl. He almost forgot how this felt.

Your hips stutter as you come. Kaeya watches you pull out. His cunt flexes weakly with arousal as more of your cum dribbles out of him. You lay him down on his back and cup his cheek. “You're mine now, Kaeya.” You don't ask for his approval.

Kaeya nods softly. “Yours.”

[endahouselikecarpet]

Date Everything x Reader

Overly Emotional Reader

[taking a break from my Maggie series with this. Reader is basically that one vine of the girl getting knocked off the bed and yelling, “I’m SENSITIVE, Aubrey!” Also, I didn’t proof read this and I’m half asleep, so sorry if things are a bit jumbled. Will fix things later as needed]

Volt - he walked into the room to see you sobbing. “ Livewire? Oh! Come here, love!" He quickly rushed over to you and pulled you into his arms. “ There now. I've got you." he would hum as his hold would tighten. After you had settled a bit, he leaned back to wipe some tears from your face and look in your eyes. “Now, what has my livewire so upset, hm?“

You gave a few more sniffles before croaking out, "I thought about Eddie being mad at me."

His face creased with concern," Is Eddie mad at you?"

When you shook your head and buried your face into his jacket, Volt couldn’t help but chuckle.

“You’re overthinking things, love.” He soothed, “Come on, let’s go find him so he and I can kiss you all better.”

Timothy- “You were almost late!” He meant it more as a tease rather than an actual scold. However, that didn’t stop your lip from starting to quiver and your eyes from starting to well up. Honestly, he is so awkward about it at first tries to get you to stop by going, “Now, now! We don’t have time to cry written on the schedule!”

You try to stop, but that just makes you almost start hyperventilating. At this point, Timothy was wringing his tail trying to not panic and think of a solution.

Then it hit him- what’s the point of being part cat of you don’t act like it?

Loathe as he was to admit it, his Timmy side was handily bleeding through as he started nestling his head on your shoulder and purring in an attempt to calm you. It was a little embarrassing, but it was the least he could do after upsetting you.

Curt and Rod- You were all joking around and it accidentally went a bit too far. You still made yourself laugh and smile a bit because you didn’t want to make them feel bad. That didn’t stop them from noticing immediately though. “Aw, Curt! Look what you did!” Rod scolded as he pulled you into a hug.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to! Besides, you were in on it too!” Curt huffed as he tried to pull you away from Rod and to him.

“Huh-uh! I don’t think so!” Rod huffed as he turned around, “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll keep you safe from that bully!”

“I’m the bully? I’m the bully?! You’re the one holdin’ them captive!” Curt would argue as he tried to get around to you.

They use you for tug of war like this to try to get you to laugh again, but will stop if it’s making things worse.

Drysdale- He had just gotten done practicing a new routine, when he noticed you crying in the laundry room. He tried to see if he could spot the problem from where he was, but made his way over to you when he couldn’t. “Chin up, cherub! I’m sure whatever happened isn’t that bad.” He tried to encourage.

“But…but… it’s too much!” You barely got out.

“Too much? Are you feeling overwhelmed about something?” Drysdale was getting concerned.

“Soap…”

“Beg pardon?” Now he was perplexed.

What you said next was so fast and stuttered he almost didn’t understand it. “I accidentally put too much detergent in the washer and now Washford is going to be angry at me!”

He looked at the measuring cup in your hand and saw it was stained to the half cup mark instead of the fourth cup like you usually used. While it was indeed a bit overkill, it was still nothing that would do any harm.

“Oh, come, come! Our dear Washford could never be angry with you. You’re too darling for that to be possible! Not to mention, a little extra cleaning might be just what he needs.” Drysdale whispered the last part to you with a laugh.

“I heard that.” A deep voice scolded from behind you both.

Stella- You were about halfway up the stairs when you just stopped and silently started to cry. Stella is quick to check on you. “Dear, are you alright? Why are you crying?” She asks gently.

“I don’t know,” you reply.

“Oh, well, if you don’t know, then I don’t know how to help you.” She put a bit of a teasing tone to try to lighten things up.

“I’m sorry.” You try to stop, but it’s no use.

“Don’t apologize. You just focus on feeling better.” She shushes

Reggie- “Oh, we are gonna have to work on that or this world is gonna chew you up and spit you out.” They were almost in disbelief at how soft you were. The sort of person that will upset you (not too much, just enough to get you a bit tougher), but if anyone else even thinks about upsetting your it is over for them.

If anyone thinks they’re going to outdo Reggie, then they don’t know Reggie.

[waitingonher]

because i love you — [hoo boys headcanons]

summary: your "thing" with the hoo boys!

author's note: in honor of the pjo series coming out today,,have this rlly rlly short draft from earlier this year! xoxo

percy jackson — doodling on him

“give me your hand.”

“yes ma’am.”

minutes pass as you doodle gods know what onto percy’s hand. you always resort to this whenever the camp head counselor's meeting begins late—which seems to be every meeting—and giving percy "tattoos" certainly kills time. last meeting, you drew a can of beans and the time before that, was a bouquet of tulips. so honestly his guess being a pair of socks this time isn’t too far of a reach.

“okay, done,” you release his hand, a proud smile gracing your features, “cute right?”

he quirks a brow upon seeing the drawing, “is that…” percy turns his head to the side, gaining better perspective, “is that a flying fish?” 

“wow, you’re good,” you say, giving him a nod of approval, “although, last time you did say that my can of beans looked like a roll of toilet paper…” 

your boyfriend throws his hands in the air, “in my defense, you used a shitty pen so it was hard to tell.” 

“whatever.” 

jason grace — sewing your initials on his clothes

“hi love,” jason says, plopping down beside you on the couch. you give him a bright smile as he places a gentle kiss on your head, “almost done?” 

nodding proudly, you hold up his pair of jeans to show him your work: your initials sewn onto a corner of his back pocket, “yup, just finished actually! what do you think of the color? i think you bought the thread for me on our second date. but i totally forgot i had it until i went digging in my supply box.” 

a grin plasters itself on jason’s face as he nods his head in realization, “i knew the color seemed familiar. i remember wondering why a tiny spool of thread was so expensive. but it’s perfect, i love it,” he kisses your cheek, “all my friends are gonna be so jealous that they don’t have their girlfriends’ initials sewn onto their clothes.” 

you laugh as you imagine jason vehemently bragging about his jeans to all his friends, “tell them i’m charging $50 if they want me to do theirs,” you wink. 

“we’d make more than the stolls’ and their smuggling business if we did that,” he laughs, admiring your work once more. who knew that having your initials on his pants would have such an affect on him, “also, can you do my sweaters and my other jeans?"

you raise a brow, "i might have to start charging you at this point."

leo valdez — impromptu fashion shows

“wow!” you clap enthusiastically, “your outfit even puts paris fashion week outfits to shame!” yes, because a rainbow checkered crop top with a humongous green tutu and a pink boa paired with insanely skinny stilettos beats any and all high fashion runway outfits, “now, leo valdez, can you give us a few words about your new clothing line? and possibly a bit about what it’s like to be so amazingly talented?” you inquire, raising an invisible microphone to his mouth. 

leo oh-so humbly bows and rises with a proud grin, “thank you, thank you, but i honestly must give all credit towards my beautiful muse, y/n, she’s the inspiration behind my new line. and about being so talented, it really is such hard work to be this naturally gifted.”

“ooh, do tell about this ‘y/n.’ i’ve never heard of her but she does sound absolutely gorgeous!” you exclaim, keeping up with the act. 

your boyfriend nods firmly, “oh yes, she’s very, very, very beautiful,” adding a playful wink, “but i must say, she has the worst morning breath i’ve ever encountered!” 

your smile drops and you squint your eyes, “i’m going to choke you with that stupid ugly boa if you don’t take that back right now.” 

“uh ma’am,” leo backs up nervously, clutching his boa, “i’m going to have to call security if you threaten me again.” 

"i'm seriously going to kill you."

[originalwinnerfanfish]

Well, I did it

Megatron - I love his tfp design. Probably one of the best iteration of Megs. He is huge, heavy armoured, his face covered with scars… He doesn’t looks like an ordinary military leader who is only capable of giving orders, but like real warrior who can destroy any enemy with his bare hands.

So, in the WOF version, he definitely shares some features with Princess Burn, not only because of his might, but also because of his horns shape and dirty-dark scales (that absorbed blood of his enemies)

Starscream - Boy, I hate him so much 🤣… but in the good way, trust me! In my opinion, when the show's creators make you feel such strong negative emotions towards a villain, it means they've done a great job. Also, I think that his animation in the show was absolutely incredible, because even though he's a 3D model, he still manages to move like a 2D character, which is amazing!

I feel that in my design he still looks more like a skywing, than an icewing (which is kinda logical)

Soundwave - This one was tricky. I couldn't figure out what his mask would look like, so I just made his face a really dark color. I think Soundwave has both gifts of the nightwings, and he’s equally great at telepathy and a future vision. So he doesn't really need equipment to predict enemy movements, which makes him an ideal communicator in the WOF setting. His Laserbeak is part of the armor enchanted by Shockwave, and it might also allow him to open portals (but I'm not sure with this one)

Shockwave - My favourite evil genius. He would definitely have animus magic and mind reading. I think Shockwave is the only one who has advanced the study of magic so far, precisely because he combined it with scientific knowledge and created safer methods of using it, that don't damage the mind. It's like if a Mastermind got animus magic in books.

I also like to think that he didn't heal the damaged part of his face just so that his enemies would fear him more)

Dreadwing - This man deserved better! It's really a shame that he was removed from the show so quickly due to financial problems. It would be great if his arc got a proper conclusion in season 3.

Considering that I didn't want to make him a hybrid, it was difficult to choose a suitable color palette. So let’s just say, that I tried my best😅

I don’t think that he would have any nightwing powers, but honestly it doesn’t even matter - this guy can make a bombs, what else does he need to be cool

Arachnid - Did anyone even doubt that she would be a hivewing? Damn, she even got her own “Othermind” virus. Her design was the easiest to work with - just a little poisonous ass (suspiciously similar to Maleficent).

Just like Starscream, I hate her, but in a good way. She's one of the creepiest characters in the entire series, who’s acting like a fucking heartless monster, especially with Arcee, but even so, there's always was something mesmerizing about her. I just really like strong female villains

Knockout - Wery bright and charismatic guy, definitely one of my fav cons!

I tried to draw him as handsome as possible. Worked a lot on the face shape and coloring, and as for me it turned out pretty nice (finally).

Most decepticons think Knockout is as stupid and lazy as all the other rainwings. And it's not like he completely disagrees with that. Of course he’s not stupid and lazy, but if it’s means less dirty work on the battlefield, well, he’ll continue act like a tipical rainwing

(I also believe that Megatron keeps him as an “art”)

Breakdown - Fun fact: "Operation Breakdown" was the very first thing I saw in this series. And it was an interesting experience for 8 year old me. Maybe that's why I'm so scared of eye gouging scenes in movies now…

I think that he didn't have any siblings initially due to his parents nature, and even after meeting Bulkhead, he felt uncomfortable among the other mudwings. And this is why he later chose the side of the decepticons. And maaaaybe because of one cute rainwing influence)

P.s.

I think that, being mostly nightwings and icewings, the decepticons are much more concerned about purity of their blood and rarely accept half-breeds into their ranks.

During the war, there were many animus dragons among decepticons, which is why they have so many artifacts that allowed teleportation and communication at a distance. But, honestly, I still can't imagine what Nemesis would look like in this AU

[prettydaisygirl]

just like that! (streamer!James Potter x influencer/pornstar!reader): part two

stream title: playing GTA V with @yourusername | !podcast

🎧 cupid's chokehold/breakfast in america - gym class heroes

a/n: this is part two of a series I am writing with @twovialsofamortentia <3 part one is linked at the beginning of the chapter or above where it says !podcast. PS I hope it's not super obvious that I've never played GTA myself and I am only a casual fan, sorry :)

cw: NSFW 18+, streamer lingo, streamer!James being horny, reader makes twitter porn and has a sex podcast, James built a second setup so they can play together, Grand Theft Auto 5 and all associated warnings, reader is not good at games but is very enthusiastic, oral (m)

part one

streamer!James Potter Masterlist & series masterlist

°˖✧✿✧˖°

James is fucking nervous. Probably more nervous than he’s ever been in his life and of course it’s over a fucking girl. 

But this isn’t just any girl. She’s the girl. The girl whose pictures he’d jerked off to for most of his teenage years. The girl who he’d imagined in almost every fantasy since the first time he saw what her tits looked like.

The girl who is coming over to his house right fucking now. 

He’d cleaned the house from top to bottom three times. James wouldn’t consider himself a slob, but he’s certainly not a neat freak. He just doesn’t want her to think he’s gross, he really doesn’t want to fuck this up. In his journey to impress her, he found himself cleaning parts of his house he didn’t even know existed. He’d exhausted himself to the bone the last few days, fueled by anxiety and the chance to (maybe, possibly, someday) fuck his favorite pornstar. 

So now, everything is done, the minutes tick by and James sits on his couch with his leg shaking as he chews on his nails. His eyes are dialed in on the street, and he spots the moment your car pulls up.

He jumps up, opening the front door before you even have a chance to knock. 

“Hi,” He says, and his voice cracks in the most embarrassing way. He watches you adjust your bag on your shoulder, a light smirk appearing on your pretty lips. God, those lips.

“Hi, handsome,” You greet, pushing past him to enter his house. He watches as you take everything in, and seeing you in his house takes his breath away. 

He shows you around, eyes hardly leaving your figure at all. You seem to brighten excitedly when he shows you the stream setup. 

“Oh! It’s not that different from the pod!” You say, flipping your hair over one shoulder as you lean over and reach out to touch his mic stand. His eyes trail drown your body again and he swallows thickly, his hands itching to reach out and touch you. 

“Hey,” Your voice interrupts his thoughts, teasing and light. Your eyes are glowing with delight when James’ finally raise back up to meet them, and James finds himself turning bright red. He clears his throat, scratching the back of his neck, and looks at the streaming setup to avoid looking at you. 

“L-Let’s just get ready for stream, we only have about an hour…”

stream title: playing GTA V with @yourusername 

“Alright, love. This joystick moves you forward, and this one you can look around.” James explains, pointing to each knob on the controller. 

You sit cross-legged in his spare gaming chair, nodding at his instructions despite the confused upturn of your eyebrows. “Okay, but how do I shoot my gun?”

James snorts, pointing to one of the buttons on the controller. “Here. But don’t go around just shooting because-”

You’re already shooting. You laugh, almost maniacally, as bullets fly and hit random cars and NPCs. You get three stars almost immediately. James glances at you out of the corner of his eye, lips pursed as he holds in his own laughter. His chat seems to love you already.

prongsupmyahs: yooo is that yourusername??? 🤤 f3r4lb1t6h: her laugh lmaoooo better than her moan too maraudersfan420: you’re doing great, sweatie

James sets the two of you up to try a heist mission. You spend far too long planning your heist outfit, and James lets you while he stares at you with heart-shaped eyes. The chat bullies him relentlessly, especially after you catch him staring and send him a wink.

wormtail4mepls: omg??? 👀 00_robin: y’all fucking or what prongsupmyahs: hey notice me yourusername pls baby I could make you so happy

“Wait!” You gasp while James is speeding down the road on the way to start the mission. “Stop! Stop!” James does, he slams on the brakes and watches as your character climbs out of the car. His eyes dart over to your monitor, watching as your character sprints in the direction you just came from. 

Your face breaks into a mischievous grin, eyes alight with mischief. “You didn’t tell me there would be a strip club!”

James is forced to follow you into the club, watching as your character explores each room. You whoop and cat-call at the virtual strippers, which has chat going wild. It gets worse when one of the strippers does a move on the pole that has your head tilting and your lips parting in a way that leaves James breathless.

“I think I could do that.” You say. James thinks he might die if you try, and chat clearly feels the same.

rayzorrai: holy fuck prongsupmyahs: do it i will literally do anything plz 🙏 timl0ng_: hi prongs, hi chat, helloooo yourusername 😜

When he finally wrangles you into doing the mission, several hundred dollars wasted at the club and another outfit change later, he learns that you are simultaneously completely dedicated to the mission and also so easily distracted.

The two of you have to restart the mission dozens of times, either because of you dying or because of you killing an NPC that you shouldn’t. If it was anyone else, James would be so frustrated he would be ripping out his hair. But it’s you, and so he finds himself smiling and laughing and enjoying it all the same. He’s happy to be sitting next to you.

The chat loves it too, obviously. Some mock your poor gaming skills, but most find your enthusiasm (and cleavage) makes up for the lack of direction or actual progress. James finds himself completing the mission mostly alone, while you run around trying to shoot at things. 

He can’t help but adore you more and more every second.

When that “Mission: Passed” screen finally pops up, James doesn’t have a chance to celebrate. Because you are already celebrating. You stand, cheering loudly and shaking your ass in a way that makes James’ jaw drop and he immediately gets hard. Everyone in chat is too given the amount of messages flying by.

myb4biPads: 🥵🥵🥵put that on twitter prongsupmyahs: saved a clip for later  cxtxkem13: 💸cheer100 💸cheer100 💸cheer100 💸cheer100 💸

You finally sit down, brushing your hair off of your shoulders as you lift yourself to cross your legs underneath you. You give James a bright grin. “Back to the strip club!”

“The strip club?” James raises a brow.

“It’s not a real victory unless we get bitches, James.”

James watches as you readjust your bag on your shoulder, heading for the front door. He doesn’t want you to go, obviously. His chat loves you, already begging him to have you on again. At the end, someone even sent in a donation suggesting you join the marauders on their next game night.

“Oh!” You’d said, “Yes, your friends! They should come on the podcast!” All of his followers seemed excited at the idea, and you promised you’d invite on the entire Marauders crew to spill all of their dirtiest sex secrets. 

“Are you really going to have the boys on?” James asks now, and you tilt your head up to look at him. He inhales sharply, his heart skipping a beat. Sometimes your face will move a certain angle and his brain will be flooded with images of you naked, hips grinding, your head tilted just like that. 

“Yeah!” You say, completely unaware of his dilemma, “I think that would be fun! Don’t you think?”

“Um… yeah!” James tries to sound enthusiastic but all of the blood in his body is rushing to his cock and away from his brain. You notice, the corner of your mouth raising just a bit.

“You alright?” You ask him, eyes scanning over him as you seem to so easily figure him out. You read him like a book, like it's second nature.

“It’s just…” He swallows thickly, “sometimes I look at you and I can’t help but see you… you know.” 

“Naked? Covered in sweat and fucking myself on a dildo?”

“Jesus!” James chokes on his own spit, starting to cough. You’re so forward, he never gets used to it.

“I know, it's okay!” Your smile is sweet, but there’s a glint in your eyes that has his stomach churning, especially when they trail down his body again. “Do you… want help with that?” 

The whole world stops. James is sure he really did die. 

“You- I- Huh?”

You chuckle, a hand coming up to your mouth for a moment as your eyes meet his again. “Do you want me to blow you?”

“Are you serious?” James feels like he’s having an out of body experience when you nod and smile.

“I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t serious.” You say.

 “Holy fuck, yes.” James finds himself dizzy when you take his hand and lead him to the couch, kneeling between his legs. You pause.

“Do you have your phone?” You ask softly as you reach for the button on his pants. It takes him a moment to register your words, his brain overwhelmed.

“Uh- Yeah, I… I think.” He chokes out.

“Film it, so you can watch it again later.” You say, lowering the zipper and maneuvering to free his cock from his boxers. “Just for you, though. No sharing.”

James’ hands shake as he digs his phone out from his back pocket. He has to lift his hips and you raise your brows, a teasing smile on your lips, giving him that look he knows he could picture with his eyes closed. 

“Jesus, fuck.” He manages to press record and he hopes his hands aren’t shaking so bad that he won’t get every detail. Because he’s going to rewatch this so many times, he’ll rub his dick raw. 

You spit on your hand, wrapping it around the base, and smile up at him. He’s already leaking just from him looking at you like this. His breaths start to get shaky as your hand slowly begins to pump up and down the shaft. When you lean forward to lick his cock, tracing a vein with your tongue, his head falls back against the couch. He’ll be forever grateful that you suggested he record this.

You gently wrap your lips around the head of him, tongue tracing over the tip. James hisses and his hips buck just a bit.

“Sorry,” He says instinctually, really trying not to fuck this up.

“‘s alright, baby,” You pull back just enough to reassure him, and James lets out a whine, biting his lip so he won’t cum just from you calling him baby.

You take him into your mouth slowly, relaxing your throat as you push forward until your nose is against his pelvis before pulling back. You begin a slow rhythm, bobbing your head while sucking your cheeks in. The fingers of his free hand tangle in your hair, broken whimpers and almost-sobs leaving his lips.

“Shit, ah- you feel so good.” His hips jerk a bit again and you hum at the unexpected movement, but don’t choke. The vibration makes James hiss, and he grips his phone so tight in his hand that he has white knuckles, capturing the whole thing. 

You quicken your pace, tongue swirling around him as your fingers move to fondle his balls, gently squeezing and playing with them. James’ mouth is open, his eyes squeezed tightly shut as he tugs at your hair. He tries to watch, he really does, but it feels so fucking good and a lot of his focus is set on keeping the camera on you. He doesn’t seem to have much control over the rest of himself. 

“Ahh, mmmh,” James’ hips buck up into your mouth, his face contorting into a silent sob. Every nerve in his body is on high-alert, and he can feel himself getting close.

“‘m gonna cum,” His words come out just as whiny as his moans, about two octaves higher than normal. “Where… Where should I…?” He lets his question trail off as his eyes roll back again. His peak is approaching so fast, and then you pull away. He lurches himself to sit up, worried he did something wrong, but you’re still between his legs.

“Where do you want to cum, James?” You ask, and the sound of your voice will haunt him every night for the rest of his life. He can’t help but shiver, hissing as he holds back his release just a little longer.

“I…” He shakes his head, curls sticking to his sweaty forehead. “On your tits.”

You smile with a knowing look, easily tugging off your shirt. The sight of you, in your bra, kneeling between his legs, is enough to do it for him. He finishes as soon as your hand returns to him, hips thrusting into your fingers as the thick whiteness of his cum lands over your boobs. He groans your name, just like he used to in the shower. 

When his ears finally stop ringing, you’re cleaning yourself up. You smile at him, then stand, leaning over him to press a gentle kiss to his cheek. James manages to end the recording and stand up right as you’re approaching the front door again.

“You’ll have to get your friends to agree to the pod.” You tell him, leaning back against the door for a moment. “Mostly so I have an excuse to see you again.”

“I will,” James says, and there’s a moment before he moves forward, a hand coming to your lower back as he presses his lips to yours. Softly, and just for a moment. You blink up at him with eyes so pretty after he pulls away that his heart aches.

“I really like you.” He says, holding the front door open for you as you step outside. You blow him a kiss.

“I know.” You say, giving him a wink and a wave as you step out of his front door. “I’ll be waiting for your call.”

°˖✧✿✧˖°

© prettydaisygirl

[odinsblog]

“One weird, silver lining positive from the WGA's strike has been a sense of calm over a reality that has plagued me with anxiety for years — the fact that despite having a great agent, manager, and lawyer, despite having been in hundreds of rooms with top execs and producers, despite having pitched countless networks, and despite having sold multiple pilots and pitches, I still work in food and bev. For so long, it felt like such an embarrassment in so many ways because it felt like I was the only one who was biding time in between sales with a side hustle. When I would tell people at work that I wrote television, they'd look at me like I had ten heads, or like I was delusional. They couldn't IMAGINE someone who *actually* wrote television would also be asking them what temp they wanted their salmon.

But the reality is, TV money goes fast, especially when it's just a pilot sale. And if shit doesn't get picked up to series, that money only lasts for so long. Being responsible meant swallowing my pride and keeping a job that was more consistent and steady but also gave me the ability to take pitch meetings, to write on my down time, do rewrites, answer e-mails, and take notes calls.

And for so long I thought I was a minority in that regard. Like I had done something wrong to not be successful enough to rely solely on my career as a writer.

Yet the strike has pushed SO many stories to the forefront of writers doing the exact same thing I've done, GOOD writers, great writers, writers who shit I watch all the time, whose names I instantly recognize, whose reputations in this industry precede them. So when the studios leaked that the goal was to bleed writers dry, to make it so we lost our homes, I had to laugh. Writers like me will literally do anything to keep the dream of writing alive. It's in us. It never goes away, no matter how many steaks you server, how many martinis you mix, how many cold calls you make, how many Uber passengers you pick up, how many pizzas you have to deliver. We always always always find a way to make it to that next great hope of a pitch, a sale, a green light.

And that's how you know that the CEOs are so fucking out of touch with reality. With the industry. With the POINT of the industry the point for most (not all, but most) has never been to be filthy rich, or own a yacht, or even have a membership to SoHo house. It's been to make something we love. To see it come to life, and make other people happy, or sad, or angry, or scared. To take this story you have kicking around your head and turn it into some epic journey. To be part of the process of making worlds and characters come to life. To tell stories.

The CEO's point has been to make as much money as humanly possible. And so they think that's all there is motivating writers. it's not. It never has been. Just because those CEO's wouldn't wait tables or mix drinks or drive a Lyft in order to keep a dream going, doesn't mean the rest of us wouldn't. The CEO's don't have a dream, they have a lifestyle. And I promise you a dream is a much better motivator than a yacht or a Porsche.

Try to bleed us dry, guys. Just because you'd let your own dream bleed to death, doesn't mean we would. We will always find a way to keep it alive.”

—Stefanie Williams, a tv writer on strike

[kokonoiis]

gentle lover── pt. 1 ❝ his favorite place to kiss you ❞

Ⅰ. tokyo revengers ft. k. hajime, i. seishu, m. chifuyu, h. ran, h. rindou. h. shuji Ⅱ. blurbs Ⅲ. tw. the haitaini brothers are asses, reader is shorter than hanma. Ⅳ. a/n. i'm writin my faves to get into the groove of it !! gonna try to include as many of the main characters as i possibly can in this short little series since it's easy to write and good practice

── kokonoi hajime. nape of your neck hajime hates standing in front of people, so he's almost always standing behind you, his watchful gaze always scanning the area for any lingering threats no matter how peaceful the world may seem around you. he just wants the best for you, that much he knows for certain. he worries too much, that you'll be taken away from him before he's really had a chance to protect you, and this overprotectiveness manifests in several different ways. but sometimes, when he's absolutely sure that the two of you are safe, and you're well protected, he'll lean forward, arms lazily wrapping around your waist, pulling himself closer. you can feel just how much he needed the contact by the grip on you, his face buried in the crook of your neck, as if he were trying to memorize everything about you. almost without thinking, his soft lips find the skin of the back of your neck, pressing kisses along your nape until the stress in his body has relaxed. you can feel him smile against your skin as you lean into his touch, needing him just as much as he needed you. he lets his kisses tell you exactly how much he loves you.

── inui seishu. hand seishu is a man known for just using a few words to get his point across, but no one can deny that he's absolutely a gentleman when he wants to be. and for you, he wants to be a gentleman all the time. his rough around the edges and blunt personality are no match for how happy he is when he gets to see you smile a truly happy smile, so he finds himself softening just slightly around you, more so for anyone else. he greets you the exact same no matter where you are or what you're doing, gently taking your hand and bringing it up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against the back of your hand. it's so sweet, and never fails to bring that smile to your face, which is exactly what he's aiming for. if he can start off every interaction with you smiling, then he knows that he's done a good job as your boyfriend. and now, with your hand in his, he has a perfect excuse to link your fingers together so the two of you aren't separated. doing small things like this has become an unconscious act for him. loving you has become something of a necessity for him.

── matsuno chifuyu. cheek chifuyu prides himself on being a cool and reliable partner, or at least, he tries his hardest to be. he wants to be someone you can lean on when you've had a hard day, someone who can make you cheer you up even on the worst days. he's driven by a sense of right and wrong, wanting to do good for the people around him, and of course, you were the most important person in his life for him. he knew that he could be sarcastic sometimes, and even with as sweet as he tried to be, sometimes his words came out the wrong way, so he didn't like to lean too hard into his words all the way. sometimes all that was necessary was a silly little gesture. the one that he was most fond of himself was to take your face with both of his hands and pepper kisses all along your cheeks until you were nothing but a giggling, blushy mess for him. it made his own face flush up, watching you squirm and try not to laugh as you were bombarded with millions of little kisses all around your perfect face. to him, nothing was better than seeing you laugh like this.

── haitani ran. temple ran likes to surprise you with simple little surprises. he enjoys the way you jump slightly if he sneaks up on you, and the way you glare his way if he's done something a little too silly for your liking. a secret joy of his is the way that he loves you when he thinks you aren't prepared for it, because he's always so stupidly in love with you. he likes feeling your body tense and then relax as his arms find their way around your body, instinctually calmed down just by his presence. he'll hold you like this for as long as possible, whether that's two minutes or two hours, it makes no difference to him. just being able to have that contact with you for any amount of time is a good time for him. he'll lean over, nuzzle your cheek slightly, sorta like a cat almost, before kissing there. and he'll kiss everywhere he can reach. your cheek, forehead, neck, anywhere. but he always goes back to your temple, holding himself for a moment there so he could feel your heartbeat against his skin, the way it quickens just for him. he loves knowing that he has this kind of affect on you, and he'll never take it for granted.

── haitani rindou. corner of mouth rindou finds it so silly how easy it is to rile you up. its as if no matter what he does, he's always going to find a way to annoy you even just a little bit, and that definitely holds true when he's being all lovey dovey with you. he can't help himself, he just loves the way your eyebrows knit together and that adorable pout on your lips when he does something he knows will annoy you just a touch. he'll give you what you want, he always does, but he likes making you at least ask for it, sometimes more if he's feeling a little more devious than normal. when kissing you, he always makes it a point to kiss you everywhere except for where you want to be kissed. first your forehead, then your nose, then your jawline, then your cheek. and finally, when you've asked him enough times to kiss you on your lips, he'll kiss the very corner of your mouth, just barely any contact at all. it never fails to make you whine just a little bit, sometimes you'll even take it upon yourself to kiss him if you're fed up enough with his crap. he thinks it's adorable, and he has no intention of stopping.

── hanma shuji. top of head shuji loves that he can rest his head on top of yours pretty easily. nothing like having his partner in his arms as they chatted about nothing in particular, watching the world around them. he's an unabashed lover, it would take a lot more than anything you could do to embarrass him, and he most certainly wasn't embarrassed about holding what was his, especially if he were in front of other people. but it's not always around other people, either. sometimes he's just at home with you, with you sat in between his legs on the couch, and his slender arms wrapped around your frame, his chin resting on top of your head. he'll mumble something about how you can't sit still, but he makes no movement to try to get you away from him. instead, he picks his head up, and leans down slightly, gently kissing your scalp. it's such a tender moment for a man like him, who prides himself on being someone unpredictable and wild. but it does never fail to earn a surprised little gasp from you, so he supposes it still counts.

──kokonoiis 2024

[thatweirdtranny]

When broadly blaming “the left” for a series of collected takes, incidents, and attitudes that have occurred in the context of an incredibly high-casualty war (which many who are up in arms about consider a genocide, given the scale of attacks on civilians and health infrastructure), where it is not possible for any one person to rectify these perceived wrongs because of how fractured and scattered the left is, do you ever think that you are only benefiting the right? In what way do you articulate an alternate positive vision, other than just blaming “the left”?

1) it’s actually not that much of a high casualties war, which isn’t to say that it’s not terrible for the people living through it but it’s just a fact that a ton of other recent wars had much higher casualties. which is interesting considering hamas has been hiding behind civilians this whole time

2) i’m not blaming the entire left, i am specifically calling out the radicalization and extremism going on in the far left

3) if you have to change the definition if genocide in order to call it genocide then it’s absolutely not genocide. what it is though is a war and war is fucking terrible and it’s a super privileged take to think this is different from other wars just because it’s terrible.

4) if you’re saying that i shouldn’t call out radical leftists just because you *think* it might benefit the right tells me you condone everything that the radical left has done to jews since oct 7

5) the part of this ask that actually pisses me off most is “where it’s impossible for any one person to rectify these perceived wrongs” like first of all? they’re not “perceived wrongs” they’re antisemitic hate crimes and hypocrisy, and second of all? it’s 100% possible for individuals to take a look at their actions or their silence in the face of bigotry and change their fucking behavior

do better

[nightingale-prompts]

Engaged...In Conflict- Beholder AU-DCxDP

Part 8

Rest of the series

Rest of the series here

"Let me get this straight DUMBASS!" Jason pinched the bridge of his nose as Dick stood between him and Tim. "You two timed your boyfriend with Phantom. My friend and sometimes sidekick, Phantom. He called me and said he wanted me to keep you as far as possible from him! I should strangle you by our gangly neck!"

"Tim, I'm very disappointed in you but I know you probably had a good reason." Dick said putting a hand on Jason's chest to keep him at bay.

Tim had done the last thing he wanted to do. He had chosen to keep his family out of this as long as possible but now he needed help. He had to admit he didn't know what he was doing. He didn't count on Phantom telling Jason before he could and things looked bad.

"I was having issues and I just happened to met Phantom. Keep in mind Phantom usually flirts with me so I thought it would be okay." Tim tried to defend himself only for a strike from Dick to land on his head.

"Where did I go wrong? What made you think that was okay?!" Dick sighed.

Another hit landed right after this time from Damian.

"How can I be expected to look up to you? You already have Daniel. Must you run around sowing wild oats?"

"First off, you don't even like me! And it wasn't like I was in a relationship with either of them."

"That's disgusting Drake. You really are scum."

Tim dragged a hand across his face. They really are no help at all. He needed to get out of here.

Right when it was needed his phone got a text.

[Danny]: I'm making food. How does pizza sound?

"Well this has been nice but Im needed elsewhere," Tim said heading for the stairs.

"Tim. Please don't hurt him. You are going to end up hurting yourself. If you really love him, you won't treat him like an experiment. And apologize to Phantom. He deserves to be treated better then that." Dick said somberly.

Tim felt a twinge of agitation at the thought of apologizing to Phantom for anything but he knew deep down that was just jealousy talking but he didn't acknowledge it.

"Thanks for the life lesson boy meets world. I'll handle it."

The chorus of sighs that followed signaled that they didn't have any faith that he'd handle it.

****

Danny didn't really know what to do. He felt that soon he'd have to tell Tim the truth. But how do you tell someone something like this, especially your fiancé?

How could Tim trust him? How could he forgive the lies?

He should be upfront and honest. It was the only option.

When Tim finally came home Danny went for it.

"Tim...you can't cook." He said quickly as Tim closed the door.

"Uh, okay. Thanks for saying that as soon as I came in. Wait! You said you liked my cooking!"

"I lied. You burn everything you touch. That's why I try to do all the cooking or get takeout. I just can't take the idea of spending our entire relationship like this."

Relationship. He said they were in a relationship. Tim kind of tuned out the rest after that word was said. It didn't really matter. Danny could hate everything Tim ever attempted to cook but if he still wanted to be with him it was worth it. He also now understood why Alfred was so insistent that he stay out of the kitchen.

"Honestly maybe you should learn from Red Hood."

That actually stopped Tim in his tracks.

"Red Hood? You know Red Hood." Tim asked deathly serious.

"Well...yeah. His turf is where my apartment is."

"Okay, but how do you know him? How well?"

"Tim, I don't like where this is going. What's wrong?"

Danny suddenly felt uncomfortable. It was hard to explain how he met Jason. It wasn't like he knew Danny's identity outside of Phantom. It was just that Danny did a lot of soul collection and the alleys needed a lot of cleaning. He had no right to tell Tim about the revenant and he didn't want to talk about his other work.

Besides the less Tim knew about Phantom the better. Heros, vigilantes, and rouges? Danny wasn't a part of their world. And he didn't want Tim in it either.

"Nevermind, let's just go get something to eat. I don't feel like cooking tonight." Danny said grabbing his coat.

Tum knew Danny was hiding something and that was something Tim was never known to let go of.

[writteninessence]

Backstage Pass idols!Hyunjin x Felix x Chan x manager!reader

Hair sticking to his temples, lip bitten raw, gaze bright with effort. He turned his head toward you like he’d felt your eyes on him, and for a second, just a second, he looked right at you. Didn’t smile. Didn’t nod. Just… looked.

Warnings: short lil sum, fluff, suggestiveness, might make your heart beat a little harder, make ya toes curl, forbidden(?) relationship, poly, dom!Bangchan (has my heart), some I probably forgot Word Count: 771 Tags: I don't have any yet! Comment or message me if you wanna tag along for the ride <3 A/N: possible series... be nice. we don't tolerate any hate over here. Enjoy <3

You’d learned how to walk on a tightrope.

It wasn’t in the job description, but no one told you what to do when your artists looked at you like that—like they were starving and you were the one thing they weren’t allowed to touch.

And maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if they weren’t them.

If Hyunjin didn’t move like sin in silk, fluid, unbothered, his beauty so sharp it felt intentional. He was always watching you out of the corner of his eye like he liked catching you slipping. Like he knew he was the one you couldn’t stop thinking about at 2 AM when the schedules were finalized and the lights were off and your fingers hovered over your phone.

If Felix didn’t have that voice. That impossible, low, honey-dipped drawl that made everything he said sound like a secret. And if he didn’t touch your arm every time he thanked you. And smile at you like you’d just done something miraculous for him, even when all you did was hand him a damn protein bar.

And if Bang Chan—God—if he didn’t make it so damn hard to keep your head on straight. If he didn’t know things before you said them, or watched you like you were a blueprint he had already memorized. Like he wanted to be the one to break your rules for you.

You were their manager. Their anchor. The one who kept everything running when they were tired, stressed, and cracking. You were supposed to be neutral.

 Unshakeable.

And yet, there you were—shaken.

They were rehearsing for an end-of-year stage—tight choreography at a grueling pace. You weren’t even watching. Not really. Not until someone called “break,” and you looked up just in time to see Hyunjin drop to the floor, chest heaving.

He didn’t look exhausted. He looked alive.

Hair sticking to his temples, lip bitten raw, gaze bright with effort. He turned his head toward you like he’d felt your eyes on him, and for a second, just a second, he looked right at you. Didn’t smile. Didn’t nod. Just… looked.

And you looked back.

Something in your chest stuttered.

Then he blinked and looked away. Gone.

You swallowed hard and glanced away, pretending to scroll through your tablet. Notes. Tomorrow’s flight. Anything that wasn’t him.

It happened again the next week during a late-night recording.

Felix was in the booth, hoodie pulled low over his forehead, voice dipped into his chest. You were sitting behind the glass with Chan, going over production notes on a tablet. You heard Felix finish a take, and before you could speak, he glanced up.

Right at you.

Not Chan. Not the engineer. You.

His gaze lingered, curious. Soft. Familiar.

Like he liked the sound of your silence more than the beat.

You blinked and looked away, typing some note you’d already forgotten before you finished it.

Inside the booth, Felix smiled to himself.

And then Bang Chan—the worst of them, the one who knew better—he didn’t say anything when it started. He just watched.

Not in a creepy way. No. He watched like a leader. Like someone who saw the way Hyunjin’s voice got low and polite when he asked you if you needed anything. Like someone who noticed Felix was suddenly helping you carry things no one asked him to. Like someone who saw your hands shake when he stood too close.

He saw it all. And he didn’t stop it.

It was only you and Chan left behind, finalizing lyrics before the rest of the boys gathered in the studio to record them.

He didn’t say anything at first.

Just stared.

Elbow draped over the couch back, one knee propped up, shirt slightly clinging to him. Calm. Still. Like he was giving you a chance to speak first.

But you didn’t.

So he did.

“You need to be more careful.”

You blinked. “What?”

“You’re watching them too openly,” he said. His tone was low but firm. Measured. Like he was weighing every word before handing it to you.

“I’m not—”

“You are.”

He stood slowly, notebook in one hand, the other running through his curls as he stepped into your space. Not enough to touch. But close. Too close.

“You’re making it hard for them to hold back,” he murmured.

Your breath caught.

“What makes you think they’re holding back?” you whispered.

Chan leaned in, close enough to brush your cheek with his breath.

“They told me.”

You froze.

He pulled away, walking toward the door like he hadn’t just cracked the ground open under you.

And then he left.

To be continued

-E

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (33/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: The first encounter after.

Warnings: angst, some fluff

Word Count: 3.2k

series masterlist

previous part

A/N: kisses to all of you. I love you so much. feedback is appreciated!

Although Raphael stood outside your front door in the middle of the night the other night, shouting in the hallway and insulting you, tonight was a lot worse. 

You lay awake in bed for hours, tossing and turning and staring at the ceiling in the hope that the explanation for Charles' behavior was written up there. But the only thing you could see was the moonlight shining gently through the window, right on the empty side of the bed. 

It felt wrong to lie here alone and have the whole mattress to yourself. You lay as close to the edge of your side of the bed as you could, trying not to breathe in Charles' scent still clinging to the sheets or feel the chill his absence left behind. In such a short time, you got so used to his closeness that you were so cold without it that you had to pull the comforter up to your chin. 

But none of this helped you fall asleep or think about anything other than the man you would have loved to have next to you, lying just a few meters away from you in the living room. 

You've admitted to yourself that you would do anything for Charles, that you want to be someone for him to hold onto when the ceiling falls in on him, or to push him to be better, even if it costs you your heart. Even though you both emphasized several times that you were just friends - best friends, even - you always carried that little piece of hope with you. And although there had been several moments that dampened the spark, it never fully went out. 

Until last night. 

Charles seems to have clearly drawn the line of friendship, which you had previously only drawn very gently with a pencil, in thick, dark black. 

"All I want from you is your friendship."

There's a huge difference between agreeing to a friendship and being told that it's the only thing you want from someone. Whether you push aside the sexual tension for the sake of friendship to protect it, or deny every possible scenario, every moment that was more than just friendship and act as if nothing ever happened. 

The distance you needed last night to come to terms with your feelings and the final rejection was to buy you time. Time to extinguish the spark of hope inside you and get rid of the ashes before the fire takes you over completely and destroys you. But Charles had taken your escape from bed upon himself. 

You could never feel uncomfortable in his presence. And you had wanted it too. You even wanted more than he gave you at that moment - much more. You would have given him everything without hesitation - you would have given yourself - if he had asked for it. 

You almost feel a little ashamed of how quickly you fell in love with him, especially since you closed yourself off from your feelings for so long and lied to yourself. For seven days, you blocked out the voice inside you that kept shouting hypocrite so that you wouldn't have to admit the truth. And now, when the tears have dried on your cheeks and you can think clearly again, you also know that it would have been smarter if you had listened to that voice.

You love Charles. The Charles who only wants your friendship and has unconsciously broken your heart, which you were supposed to protect.

And you want to keep it that way. You would never let him know what he has unintentionally done to you. Not because you don't want to give him the satisfaction - you're pretty sure he'd feel bad about hurting you like that - but because, firstly, you don't want his pity and, secondly, the truth that you love Charles would ruin your friendship. If Charles knew how you felt about him, he would no longer be able to see you as a friend, just as someone he can't give what they need. 

He shouldn't feel obliged to be friends with you.

You press your face into the pillow. How pathetic to love someone who wants nothing more than friendship from you. Someone who has opened their home to you and you have misinterpreted their every word, every moment and every touch. 

Not even when Raphael cheated on you did you feel as sorry for yourself as you did in this moment. Although your relationship has lasted longer, in none of the countless moments have you felt as strongly for him as you have for Charles for days. And although those few days were emotionally challenging and exhausting, and at times you would have loved to bang Charles' head against the wall or pull him into bed, they were so breathtaking and fantastic that nothing and no one would ever come close to Charles.

You smack your palm against your forehead. The chances that you would die alone increase with every moment that you hope that Charles might eventually return your feelings.

You need to get over these feelings, there's no doubt about it. Since you've both already established that you can't be without each other and it might hurt Charles if you were to end this friendship - "I don't think you realize how important your are to me" - there's no other option but to throw yourself fully into this friendship and erase this boundary you've been walking on. If there is no boundary, there is no beyond. Just friendship, nothing more and nothing less.

Before you can really think about whether the idea is as good as you think it is, you swing your legs over the edge of the bed. According to the time on your cell phone, Charles could already be awake, so you shouldn't wake him as you walk down the hall to the bathroom. Besides, you can't hide in your room forever, so you decide to just get the first encounter over with. Come what may. 

As you pull a sweater, which you make sure is actually your own, over your head, you pause for a moment. Would it be weird if you were face to face? Would you even be able to get a word out? And if so, what would you say?

"I think it's good that we're going back to the beginning, where we didn't share a bed or touch each other. We should leave so much distance between us that outsiders would question whether we're even friends."

Definitely not. 

Of course you need to protect yourself and the distance that's been between you since last night certainly helps you get over your feelings, even if it's strictly speaking the last thing you want. But what you want most of all, what you desire and long for - you can't have that, unfortunately. 

If this friendship was the only thing you could get from Charles, you would gratefully accept it. Having a piece of him is still better than nothing.

You slip into a comfortable pair of sweatpants and fluffy socks before sticking your head out of the room. Although nothing can be heard, you leave the safety of your four walls and almost sprint towards the bathroom, where you brush your teeth and comb your hair. The dark circles you see in the mirror are the result of a sleepless night, so you try to conceal them a little, hoping that Charles won't recognize them and then realize how much his absence has kept you awake and bothered you.

Semi-satisfied, you enter the hallway and trudge towards the kitchen, passing the closed living room door. Apparently Charles is still asleep, which is why you quietly take boards and pans out of the cupboards in the kitchen to conjure up a decent breakfast on the table. Maybe that's your thing - trying to bypass strange conversations with a good breakfast, even if until today breakfast consisted of croissants and pain au chocolat.

As you dice two bell peppers and small tomatoes, you hear the living room door open. You look up from the chopping board in front of you and see Charles standing on the doorstep to the kitchen. 

"Good morning," you smile, hoping your smile looks as genuine as you imagine it does. "Would you like an omelette? The bell pepper and tomatoes are ready." Without waiting for an answer, you open the fridge and take some eggs out of the carton before placing them on the kitchen island next to the peppers. "I wanted to make you a coffee too, but I didn't know when you'd wake up and it would be a shame if it got cold."

Charles' gaze wanders from your face to the food in front of you before he looks at you in confusion. "Uh, yeah. Thanks." He scratches the back of his neck nervously before pointing weakly towards the bathroom. "I'm just going to freshen up. I'll be right back."

"I'm here," you say cheerfully, trying to ignore the fact that his hair is sticking out of his head in a disheveled mess and how ravishing it makes him look. "I'm not going anywhere."

As you hear the bathroom door slam shut, you exhale in relief. So far it's gone better than you expected, even though it's been less than ten sentences and you can't interpret Charles' confusion. Did he expect you to stay sadly holed up in your room and not dare to leave? Or was he confused because you were preparing breakfast for him?

Lost in thought, you fry his omelette in the hot pan and make coffee, which you place in a large cup on the counter in front of you. You serve the finished omelette on a plate as Charles returns to the kitchen. He hesitantly sits down opposite you and examines the meal in front of him. 

"Everything all right?" you ask him with a raised eyebrow, supporting yourself with your hands on the worktop. "Does it look that awful? I know I'm not a five-star chef, but I don't think it looks that bad."

Charles opens his eyes and shakes his head. "No, no! Everything's fine. It looks great." He picks up his knife and fork and smiles at you. "Thank you. I wasn't expecting that."

You wave it off before turning around and washing your hands in the sink. After all the thoughts you've had this morning, you've lost your appetite. "No problem. We live together and friends cook for each other." You know that's not what he meant, but you don't want to talk about last night. About his touch, his thigh between your legs, the look on his face when he told you he was going to sleep on the couch.

Charles clears his throat, but doesn't respond either. "How did you sleep?" he asks instead, before shoving a piece of egg into his mouth. 

You turn back to him. "Just fine," you lie, hoping that the concealer under your eyes is doing its job. "I was a bit cold, but I was fine. And you? How was the couch?"

Your roommate shrugs. "Definitely more comfortable than the one in the other apartment." He takes a sip of coffee. "But I'll still be glad when my bed arrives soon. I got an email saying it should be delivered in the next few days."

You look at him in confusion. " On Christmas?"

Charles shakes his head. "After Christmas. I think it's the day Lando invited you and me to party."

He doesn't even say it. The us. The idea that there could be more between you than friendship seems that absurd to him. You try not to let on how much this is affecting you. 

"Okay." You chew the inside of your cheek. "If you want to go partying with Lando, I can stay here if the bed hasn't been delivered yet," you offer. "Then you can have a nice evening."

Charles raises an eyebrow. "Why would you stay here when it's my bed?"

Maybe because you don't want to see Charles flirting with other women? Or even going home with them?

You shrug your shoulders. "I don't know how much you want to stay here and sit around waiting when you could go out partying with your friends. After all, you said yes to him."

Charles places his cutlery on the plate in front of him a little more firmly than necessary. "What's that supposed to mean? Don't you want to go out at all?"

"I didn't say that." You cross your arms in front of your chest. "I just offered. Because friends do each other favors." Because friends help each other.

"Then why do you want to stay here so badly?" he asks, annoyed. "Don't you want to spend the evening with us? Or rather, with me?" There is an angry glint in his eyes.

"I didn't say that!" you defend yourself. 

Charles gets up from his chair and circles the kitchen island before standing directly in front of you. "Why are you distancing yourself from me like that? Am I so awful that you don't even want to spend the evening with me anymore?"

Quite the opposite. You would love to cling to him and never let him go again. But the thought of seeing him with another woman makes you feel sick. But you can't tell him that, so you stare at him silently. You can feel tears stinging your eyes. 

"I'm sorry that you feel uncomfortable and I'll do everything I can to make sure this friendship doesn't go down the drain," he sighs softly. "If it means never touching you again, then that's what I'll do. If you want to go back to the beginning, then that's what I'll do. But please -" His voice is more of a plea than a request. "Please don't shut me out of your life. It may sound selfish of me, but I can't - please stay with me."

The angry glint in his eyes has gone out, instead you see tears flash and all you want to do is wrap your arms around him and hold him so tightly to you until neither of you can breathe and you would die a happy death because it would be in his arms. 

But you have to protect yourself, your heart, which is why you only smile slightly at him. "I told you." Your muscles ache, you have to restrain yourself so much from touching him and showing him that you're exactly where you want to be. "I'm not going anywhere." 

Charles breathes a sigh of relief and turns away briefly so you can't see him wipe the tears from the corners of his eyes before turning back to you. "All right then." He stands up straight in front of you and tries to play the tough guy, but his shaky voice betrays him. 

You look uncertainly at the plate still on the worktop. "Besides, I don't want to miss your mother's Christmas dinner. I think she'd haunt me and decapitate me if I didn't show up."

Charles laughs. "I'm afraid so, too."

You stand facing each other in silence for a moment until something occurs to you. "You said to your mother yesterday that we had a lot to do today. Was that serious or just a white lie so we could get home quicker?"

Charles bites his lower lip for a moment before reaching for his cell phone, which is lying next to the plate on the worktop. He presses the button on the side twice before sliding his finger across the screen. After a minute, he looks at you. "I meant that for real. I thought maybe you and I could do something today so you wouldn't lose your photography skills."

You give him a mock scowl, but can't help smiling. "And that would be?" He holds out his phone to you with the weather app open. The weather forecast for today is unusually good, almost twenty degrees. You look at him, confused. "Okay? And what does that mean?"

Charles puts his phone in the pocket of his black jogging bottoms. "I thought maybe you and I could go out on the boat. My fans haven't received any new pictures of me for a few days. Maybe you'd like to take some of me?" he suggests. 

You look at him, puzzled. "You really want me to take photos for your Instagram account? Your official Instagram account?" you ask skeptically. When he nods, you tilt your head. "What happened to 'I'm trying to protect you'? Have you thrown your principles overboard now?" 

"Was that pun intentional?"

"Maybe."

He rolls his eyes. "Listen. Kika has already tagged you in her pictures, so I think it would be fine if you took some of mine too. I don't necessarily have to tag you in them and push my luck. But you're good at what you do and Joris doesn't have time for me at the moment to take professional photos with me. And on the way to the harbor, I'll keep a low profile so that no one else sees you and me."

You purse your lips. "So I'm just your second choice, hm?"

He comes a little closer to you, but doesn't touch you. "You're always my first choice." His breath brushes over your face. "So, what do you say? Spend the day with me on a nice boat?"

"Depends," you reply, raising an eyebrow. "What's in it for me if I can't get any publicity from you?"

Charles has to grin. "There's a chef on the boat who will prepare anything you want."

You pretend to think for a moment before shaking your head. "Not good enough for me."

"There's a great bar where you can get drunk," he continues to offer, but again you wave his offer away. 

"Nope."

Charles takes a deep breath before running a hand through his hair and then leaning so elegantly against the kitchen island and leaning towards you that your heart skips a beat. "I'll let you steer the boat." As your grin widens and almost reaches your ears, it's obvious he's got you hooked. "So, would you like to spend the day on a boat with me, mon amo - ami?" he quickly corrects himself. 

You heard him anyway. And inside you wonder whether he calls all his female friends that. Maybe it's a habit he has that he's trying to break just for you. So that you don't feel uncomfortable, even though it triggers the complete opposite in you, which you try to ignore.

"As long as I'm allowed to steer the boat," you reply.

Charles' hand, which is hanging at his side, twitches briefly, as if he's trying hard not to lift it up and place it against your cheek.

"Deal."

[curseofdelos]

mentally I'm still here:

Nico insisting that neither of them are going to be sacrificed/left behind to satisfy the prophecy is a perfect encapsulation of his growth over the series and it makes me SO soft to think about

Nico as a character - particularly in BoO - doesn't have a lot of self-preservation. He doesn't really care what happens to him as long as the mission gets done. We see this most explicitly after he almost fades into nothingness after the Bryce Lawrence incident:

And again when he considers shadow travelling into Octavian's tent to assassinate him:

(Nico himself notes here that it was unlikely he would survive another jump. If Will hadn't stopped him, he probably would have died.)

In both cases, Nico was willing to risk death for the sake of ending the war. He puts very little value on his own life, and repeatedly argues to Reyna, Hedge, and Will that the possibility of saving camp (a place he never felt welcome at, might I add) is worth the risk of losing his life.

Even before Nico went on the quest with Reyna and Hedge, the others were concerned about his safety. Percy tried to remind him how unpredictable his shadow travelling could be, and Hazel notes that he has been acting strangely lately:

It's not quite clear what Hazel is worried about here, but my interpretation of this scene is that she's concerned that Nico isn't thinking - or perhaps, isn't caring - about what effect the constant shadow travelling will have on his wellbeing. Between Tartarus, the jar, and the Cupid incident, Nico's mental state is at its worst at this point in the series, and I think Hazel is worried he'll do something reckless - something he can't come back from.

And so in TSATS, when Nico is told that he's going to have to leave something of equal value behind in order to save Bob, the old him would have had zero issue sacrificing himself if that's what it took to ensure Will and Bob's survival. This version of Nico, who's been going to therapy w/ Mr D and opening up more and built a little support system for himself, can't fathom it.

Nico in BoO did not have a future. He had fully convinced himself that nobody cared about him or would miss him if he was gone - not Percy who fought for him at every turn in PJO, not his sister Hazel, not his new friends Jason and Reyna. He was ready to leave both camps behind because he couldn't see himself ever being happy there. He couldn't see himself being happy at all.

But now, in TSATS, he has a boyfriend that he loves, he has friends that he loves, and he has a community in Camp Half-Blood. He has experienced so much loss that losing someone else is his worst fear. The old Nico would have considered sacrificing himself to protect Will and Bob. At the very least, he would have kept that option in his back pocket as a 'just in case'; he wouldn't have sworn on the Styx that he wouldn't stay behind.

This Nico, however, is doing much better - not perfect, but better. He loves Will, and he wants a life with him, and he's not willing to give that up for anything. Nico has hope for the future, and he's clinging to that hope with everything he has. He sees a light at the end of the tunnel, and he wants to reach it. He's not willing to sacrifice himself because it means losing that future.

Gone is the cynical pessimistic Nico who assumes the worst because the worst is all he thinks he can have. Here is the Nico who has had a taste of happiness and is willing to fight to keep it. He's not going to sacrifice himself because he wants to live. He's not just fighting for Will here; he's fighting for himself too.

And seeing him go from "if it kills me, it kills me" to "it's not going to be me" makes me so ASDFGHJKL