#and know there's someone out there who genuinely cares about you.

[cometconmain]

That sounds fucking amazing and I hope we get to where you guys are on that one day. Also those names are hilarious and I love them. XD

(Heads up short rant below the keep reading in case people don't want to and let me know if this is annoying/bad etiquette on a funny lighthearted post and I'll delete it. /genuine)

Right now you have to word things very carefully to get medically prescribed weed in Australia and you certainly CANNOT tell them that you get any kind of anxiety on the wrong dosage/type or that'll undermine your point about how it helps with anxiety (it does; I've just had some shitty experiences with someone taking advantage of me being knocked out from too high a dose/deliberately dosing me to do that and now my brain immediately panics if I put even one foot past the not-at-least-50%-aware-and-able-to-push-through-in-an-emergency state of relaxed/happy/creative/calm-my-farm-because-my-brain-moves-too-fast I want and need.)

My situation is not a problem most of the time now because I say I'm a pathetic lightweight (which is true) and that I need a lower potency (also true) and that I take ridiculously tiny amounts so I really don't need much to get what I need without getting HighTM because I don't want to be (also completely true) and hell, I actually take LESS than the prescribed amount because he has me on it daily and only take it 2 times a week (3 maximum) because I like to keep my tolerance levels down because if they raise it fucks with my very careful managing of the exact amount I need which I know won't send me into a panic attack. (This part I don't say because they don't trust people to be responsible with it in my country even though they're perfectly happy letting people destroy their livers and lives with alcohol which is available in multiple stores and pretty much unregulated past the necessary laws like don't drink and drive).

I would love to be able to say all of that and not have them decide to take it off me despite how much it helps when I take it exactly the way I need to which is far less than many other people (who are also valid though they're constantly treated even worse, like they'll go full opium-level-addiction or something and that's so shit).

Crossed fingers I will one day get to see Ooga Booga Skywalker Cake on a weed store's shelves even if it's not the exact strain I need. That's fucking epic. XD

[venic-bxtch]

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼ Meet-Cute ✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

✼Joe Burrow x Ambitious!reader✼

Based on this ask: Hi! Can I request a JB fic where the girl isn’t much interested in the NFL and really focused on work or maybe finding work and then meets Joe. Like their meet cute and him pining for her if that’s okay? Thank you

⭒❃.✮:▹ A/N: LOVEEEEE, this idea🫶🏾

Warnings: none…just fluff as fluffy as a marshmallow!!!

She wasn’t like the other people at the gym. Joe could tell that the second he spotted her on the treadmill, jogging like she was on a mission, earbuds firmly in, completely ignoring everything and everyone.

He wasn’t used to being ignored. People usually gave him a double-take or tried to sneak a photo. But she didn’t even glance his way, and for some reason, that made her more interesting.

Joe wiped his hands on his towel, telling himself to let it go. She probably didn’t want to be bothered. But when he saw her frowning at the screen on her treadmill like it had personally wronged her, he couldn’t help it. He wandered over, hopping onto the treadmill next to hers.

“Hey,” he said, pulling out one of his earbuds.

She startled, glancing at him briefly. “Uh, hi?”

“You’ve got a good pace going,” he said, throwing out the first thing that came to mind.

She snorted—an actual snort—and he liked her even more. “Sure, if the goal is ‘don’t collapse in public.’”

Joe chuckled, slowing his treadmill to match her pace. “That’s a solid goal.”

She rolled her eyes but smiled, and for a second, Joe forgot where he was. There was something about the way her face lit up that made him want to keep her smiling.

“I’m just trying to not freak out before this interview,” she admitted, pulling out her own earbuds.

“Big interview?” he asked, leaning a little closer.

“Sort of,” she said. “It’s my third one this week, and I’m trying to stay optimistic, but it’s been… rough.”

Joe nodded, genuinely interested. “What’s the job?”

“Marketing,” she said, grabbing her water bottle. “But everyone wants experience I don’t have.”

“That’s tough,” he said. “You’ll get there, though. Sounds like you’re hustling.”

Her lips twitched, like she wasn’t used to hearing that kind of encouragement. “Thanks. What about you? You here to blow off steam too?”

Joe hesitated, scratching the back of his neck. “Kinda. I’m here for football. Gotta stay in shape.”

Her eyebrows raised. “You play football?”

“Yeah,” he said. “For the Bengals.”

She blinked at him, expression unreadable. “Like… professionally?”

“Yeah.”

There it was. The moment people usually lit up or started asking questions. But she just nodded like he’d told her he worked at the post office.

“Cool,” she said. “Not really my thing, but that’s cool.”

He couldn’t believe it. “You’re not a football fan?”

“Not really,” she said, smiling apologetically. “I mean, I know the basics, but I couldn’t name more than, like, two players. Sorry.”

Joe laughed, shaking his head. “That’s actually kinda nice.”

“What is?”

“Talking to someone who doesn’t care about all that,” he said honestly.

Her smile widened a little, and he felt his chest tighten. She had no idea who he was, but she was still talking to him like he mattered. He wanted to keep her here, to keep the conversation going, to learn more about the determined, slightly frazzled woman in front of him.

But she checked her watch and groaned. “I gotta go. Thanks for the pep talk, though. Uh… sorry, what was your name again?”

“Joe,” he said, grinning.

“Right. Well, thanks, Joe. Good luck with… football.”

As she walked away, Joe watched her go, his heart sinking a little. He didn’t even get her name.

Still, he couldn’t help the stupid smile that stayed on his face the rest of the day. And when he showed up at the gym the next morning at the same time, it wasn’t just for the workout.

Taglist: @joeybsboo @heavyhitterheaux @inmyfeelingsgnocchi @ikeepitlight @iknowdatsrightbih

[alwaysthefool]

Coincidence (Sylus x Reader/MC)

Tags: Angst, no comfort, jealousy, misunderstanding, GN Reader, MC Reader

Warnings: major insecurity,

Synopsis: You see Sylus with someone else, causing a misunderstanding between the two of you

It definitely wasn’t one of your best days. Your hair had been dull from exposing it to too much heat, and your skin was facing a breakout. He’d seen you at your worst and best before, and besides, Sylus didn’t care for those things so you didn’t think much about it when he called you over.

Maybe you should have.

She was everything you weren’t, everything people said you lacked, with a beautiful smile and perfect teeth. He called her closer to whisper something in her ear, to which both of them laughed, before she noticed you, gracefully bid her farewell to Sylus, and walked to the door.

“Will I be seeing you at the banquet tonight, sir?” She asked, turning slightly.

“I’ll let you know.” Sylus turned his attention to you, his lips curling up, and suddenly it did not feel so genuine. It felt cunning, manipulative, and the second you found your own brain blaming you for insecurity, you realised your thoughts were being manipulated. He wasn’t using his aether core or evol, it was all a plot, a power play to lift up your spirits and let you down, over and over again. Right?

“…you coming?” Sylus, whose voice was generally hard to ignore, had been talking about something.

“What?” You frowned, not sitting down or making yourself comfortable in his office like you usually would, which made him stand up and walk towards you.

“Would you like to come with me to the protocore auction tonight?” He repeated, staring deep into your blank eyes. He said he could see people’s deepest desires, and at that time you didn’t know what you even wanted.

“I’m actually busy.” You cautiously stepped back, feeling worse than you did when he first called you there. It hurt worse than your heart at its weakest state, than your throat all those times you’d scream when nightmares terrorised you, probably more than any other time an opponent hurt you.

He was about to say something, but a bailing ring on your phone interrupted you. You glanced quickly at who it was— Tara— and excused yourself to pick up the call, a cheerful voice saying something about being bored on her week off, and without a pause, you replied saying you’d be there.

“Really?!” She exclaimed, and you also realised how you’d been neglecting your friends, spending your free time with him instead.

“Really.” You replied solemnly, just walking out of his manor, only dropping a text that a friend needed you for something important.

You thought he’d chase after you, try to stop you, at least text you to stay, but he did nothing of that sort, and you were soon at Tara’s house with a pack of beer, chips, and hidden feelings.

“Maybe you should see other people.” She suggested, looking down at your palm to read the lines. “It seems like you’ll have many romances- ooh, I know, why don’t we go out tonight? Maybe we’ll find the one!”

“Tara, we’re not finding ‘the one’ at the club.”

“You never know!” Although she took the week off to recover, she was quite jumpy when getting ready, helping you too. It was pleasant to have someone like that around in times like those.

You looked better, finally, dressed well with your hair done, although you shouldn’t have done that considering how weak it was, but it felt nice to just feel adored for the first time in days. Tara took you to a tiny get-together with some of her team, the club thankfully not being too crowded. You got along with her friends, the free cocktails helping you get your mind off things.

It seemed you really hit it off with Andrew, captain of the analytics division, who also didn’t seem to mind Tara partying on her time off. “Everyone should have time off every once in a while.” He said, as the two of you watched her dance her heart out with a smile on your faces… and then trip on her own feet and fall.

The two of you rushed to her, helping her up, and calling a taxi for her. She insisted for you to stay and enjoy, telling you she’d be fine by herself. Andrew started to scold her for being reckless but she told the Taxi driver to step on it before he could finish, earning another laugh from you.

The cool breeze made you shudder, and the team leader gave you his coat. You thanked him shyly, the two of you talking for a while outside, until you spied a shiny eyed crow perched on a light pole, immediately ticking you off.

He was with someone else, so why was he interested in what you were doing? You put your arm on Andrew, leaning in to whisper something in his ear, holding his hand as the two of you went back inside.

Back at the base, Sylus watched you through Mephisto’s eyes, not having attended the auction himself as you wouldn’t be going.

“So that’s why you blew me off.” He mumbled to himself, turning off the screen after commanding Mephisto to make sure you got home safe.

He wondered what happened, where he went wrong, how he could fix things. You seemed down for a while, so he set up a perfect date night for the two of you, acquiring tickets for a ball in another city, having a designer deliver garments that would suit you personally earlier that day, because a week ago you told him you wished to attend one of those while mindlessly scrolling through the Pinterest board on your phone. He thought he’d surprise you, but then you hurried away from him, making him think something bad happened.

Now he supposed you just liked the simpler things in life, and a simpler man, too. Is that who called you when you ran without a bye? When he stared deep in your eyes and saw disgust again? You hated him, right? You liked someone else, right?

“Have it your way, sweetie.

Now I won’t chase after you.”

-x-

Pssst if you liked this, i wrote this concept (with a follow up happy ending chapter) for ZN too, I’ll link it in the reblogs!

Also let me know if you want a Part 2 to this and what it should be!

[firstkanaphans]

so u saying p’som not the one who find jobs for them ok so who does it? if GMMTV wants their artist to get money to the company so why some artists doesn’t have any jobs even if they are really successful? ppl was making points saying every single artist who is managed from p’som is seen jobless, while other from different managers have lot of jobs and isn’t even that successful. also, i really don’t think the actors themselves go outside asking for events or talking to brands, isn’t their job to act? im asking this genuinely, i know nothing from this industry, everything so blurry. tbh i find really weird how those managers have so many artist to take care of, i believed that each manager would have just one or two couple to take care of not above ten artist i was weirded tf out

According to Joong in that clip I linked, the person in charge of securing work for GMMTV artists is an Events Manager that is separate from the Artist Manager we usually see. In the case of First and Khaotung, P'Som is their artist manager and her job is simply to manage the schedules they already have. So, if you're wanting to get mad at someone for a perceived lack of work, you need to get mad at the nameless, faceless Event Manager instead of P'Som.

Artists might not have work for many reasons. If they aren't famous enough, no offers might be coming in, but in the case of both EarthMix and FirstKhaotung (who share a manager), they are 100% getting offers. They are simply not accepting them. As a general rule, the more famous you are, the less you have to do these gimmicky brand deals to make money. Win is probably the most popular artist at GMMTV and I haven't seen his face in like a year. They're not working because they don't want to work.

I don't know why this is such a strange concept for people. Like you said in your ask: they're actors; their job is to act. Nothing else is required of them and although the fans might enjoy seeing them every once and a while off screen, these events are not fun for the artists. They're just extra work.

The artists that do a lot of these events are people still trying to make a name for themselves. JoongDunk are a great example. I imagine that after THK, we'll see a significant decrease in their sponsored events as well because they will no longer need them to remain relevant. Not working is a luxury.

The only events that truly hold weight for me are magazine spreads and luxury brand endorsements, both of which are likely not coming in for FK—at least in Thailand—because they don't meet Thailand's very strict beauty standards. They're also both queer as fuck. Everything else is just pointless drivel to earn a few extra bucks, which they clearly don't need or they would do more of it.

These boys have a fantastic relationship with P'Som. They bought her a Nintendo Switch so they could all play together when they went to Brazil. The three of them + EarthMix hang out in their free time. They all went to a concert together just a few weeks ago. There is nothing to suggest they feel slighted by her and if they really didn't like their treatment at GMMTV, they could leave. Once again, they are adults. They do not need strangers on the internet making a fuss for them about some perceived slight that only exists in their heads.

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

I hope you had a great time seeing them in Germany! What do you think about reader seeing the boys live for the first time? ❤️

I really ran with this…

Vessel

He was shitting his pants. There were always some nerves before the show. That was inevitable when you genuinely cared about what you did. But suddenly he felt that he was more than fine to go in front of thousands of people. Even messes a line in his song. But knowing that you were there. That his team had secured you the best spot in the pit. That suddenly made him overthink every little thing.

Not to mention that you were there. In a sea of people. What if someone knocked you out while moshing? What if you fell? Did someone rob you? Punched you? No, he was flying off the hook. He had security there. There were a couple of people from the team who were there alongside you. You weren’t alone. He had nothing to worry about. No one knew you two were together. No one had a reason to target you. Yet he cared too much to not feel panic over it.

It all shifted when Vessel had finally made his way to the catwalk. For a moment he had forgotten that you were there. Too lost in the music. Too used to your schedule clashing with concert dates. But when his eyes met yours. The smile on your face could have sent him straight to his knees. You told him every day how proud you were of him. But there was something else about seeing it yourself. The glisten in your eyes. The way you shook your head almost in disbelief. That smile. Fuck him the smile that he had fallen for months ago. Without really thinking about it Vessel pointed at you. Making the crowd fall into fits of screams. Just they didn’t know that was for you and you only. You laughed softly shaking your head. He spent as much time as he could there at the end of the catwalk. Looking at you the whole time, thankful that his mask didn’t let others see that.

Pumped up with adrenaline after the show he could barely stand in one place as he waited for his team to bring you backstage once more. Crew passing by kept on congratulating, tapping his shoulder but he didn’t hear much of it. All his attention was on the little metal door that stood between you and him now. “Sir, could I get an autograph?”, a tap on his back made him do a 180 so quickly Vessel nearly lost his balance. And here you were. The same glistening eyes looked up at him. He simply smiled, hands reaching for your hips as he pulled you closer to him. Making you step on your tippy toes to kiss his lips softly.

“And?”, Vessel muttered after pulling away. “You were unbelievable!”, your hands clasped his biceps as you attempted and the key word here was attempted to shake all 6’3 of him. “I mean my god…”, you grunted throwing your head back, “I knew you were amazing but that”, you gestured back towards the stage. Vessel could feel his cheeks heating up. He knew that he always cared about what everyone thought but there was something special about knowing that people you loved, shared the love for something so special to you as well.

“Vess you were fucking amazing”, you beamed, cupping his still paint-covered cheeks. “You are too kind”, he muttered leaning closer. Brushing his nose against yours, before giving it a little kiss. “No i see you and that was life-changing”, your tone turned a lot more serious now, “that’s why people love you so much, baby”, you mused softly.

“I only had my eyes on you”, Vessel pointed out making you chuckle. “You better, I saw them girls with their titts out”, you narrowed your eyes at him playfully. Vessel let out a soft chuckle, “saw no titts only your eyes”, he muttered, pushing a strand of your hair away from your face. “Thank you for inviting me”, you whispered, stepping closer, and pressing your palms against his chest. “Thank you for being here”, Vessel smiled, leaning in once more, brushing his soft lips over yours. “Sorry you have paint…”, he grunted, reaching out to brush his thumb over the smudge on your cheek. “No, don’t brush it off - want to have my fangirl moment”, you pull back, grinning like a devil, making Vessel chuckle once more.

iii

Everyone knew a month prior that you would join them for one of the home shows they were doing. There wasn’t a soul left in the crew who hadn’t heard the whole “my girlfriend this”, and “my girlfriend that”, story. He was a proud boyfriend okay. Besides this band, you were the best thing that had happened to him and he wasn’t about to be quiet about it. So the whole morning he has a grin on his face because he’s in his car, going to the venue and you’re right beside him. His hand on your thigh as he grins.

Everyone else is being the sweetest, greeting you as if you are one of the team. Your hand is in his as iii slowly walks you through the whole setup. Showing you where all of his guitars are. “Hold on”, he muses, reaching for his black and red bass before putting it over your shoulders. “Jesus, you look tiny”, he chuckled at how huge it looked in your arms. “Wait, pose”, he’s laughing, taking shit tonnes of pictures of you with his bass. And you best bet that’s his new lock-screen.

When it comes to the show it’s, you also choose to watch it from the pit. Craving that rush of energy from the crowd plus it’s the best spot to see him from in all his glory. You’re grinning up at him the whole show. Singing the lyrics that by now are a part of your soul as well. Not being able to keep your tears at bay at some parts. “You cried”, is the first thing he says as you two reunite, “That bad?”. “That good”, you mutter back, wrapping your arms around his neck. iii stand up fully, making your legs dangle in the air as he sways you from side to side. “Next time stay backstage”, he muses against your neck, “want to come back between songs and give you a kiss”. You chuckle softly, “You wanted to do that on stage tonight didn’t you?”, because you could swear that man was teetering the line of falling off stage more than once. “What gave me away?”, iii chuckles. “I love you, you little crazy dude”, you shake your head, brushing your fingers through his messy hair.

ii

Yeah, you are in the pit. His side of the stage end of the story. He had told you once that there were shows where he felt forgotten. That people were there for everyone but not him. He was more than aware that he couldn’t go zooming through the stage with his drums but that didn’t mean that he didn’t feel left out at times. So the moment you knew that you were going, you had taken it upon yourself to make a sign. A sign that said: I’m only here for the drummer. All covered in pink glitter and bows because you knew that that would make him roll his eyes.

And you knew that you made the right choice once the girl barricading next to you muttered, “Cool sign”, you chuckled softly, “Thanks, got to show the love”. She simply nodded, asking if she could take a picture of you with it. “I love ii as well, he deserves to know that we see him too”, she smiled, making you smile alongside her. “Let me take a pic of you as well”, you motioned for her to hand her phone over. Falling into a soft conversation after.

You could tell the exact moment ii saw it too. He had halted. Only making you scream louder. Then did his infamous disappointed head tilt before shaking his head no doubt in laughter. ii had stopped and took a moment to get down, throwing some of his drumsticks for the crowd. Shaking a warning finger your way before throwing you one as well. You caught it with ease and almost instantly turned to the girl standing next to you.

“Here, have it”, you pointed the drumstick at her. Her eyes grew big, “No you caught it…”, she shook her head, yet you could see the suppressed excitement there. “Nah”, you waved her off, “trust me. Take this, I already have one at home”, you threw her a wink. Give her a quick hug before turning to find the crew waiting to bring you backstage.

ii was leaning against some of the gearboxes, arms crossed. His serious face morphed into a grin when he saw you skipping towards him as you waved your sign around. “Only, here for the drummer”, he muttered, right as you jumped into his arms. Giggling as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Yeah, sorry”, you shook your head, pulling back from him slightly, “everyone else is not up to my taste”. ii chuckled softly, arms moving to cup your ass as he moved your legs to wrap around his torso. “So how was the drummer?”, he asked raising one eyebrow at you. You tapped your chin a couple of times as if pretending to think. “Extremely sexy”, you wiggled your eyebrows making ii let out a laugh, “Played not bad too”, you shrugged, grinning, only to be met by ii fingers tickling your side as you squirmed in his arms. “Not bad, huh”, he muttered against your neck, making you giggle even more. “might have to come a couple more times to make sure he’s good”, you chuckled, leaning your forehead against his. “Well, that could be arranged”, ii nodded, leaning in to kiss you.

Ivy

Ivy had never taken anyone backstage. There has never been anyone in the crowd for him. Just fully for him. So when he’s telling the team that he’s bringing someone with him for the next show he can’t escape the wiggling eyebrows and woops that follow him. So he’s a nervous wreck stopping you right before you enter the green rooms.

“They are insane please don’t run away until the very end”, he whines, eyes pleading as he looks down at you. “Ivy, I’m here for you”, you cup his face, brushing his thumbs over his face. “I know just…”, iv shakes his head. It’s so weird for him to have someone he trusts so unconditionally. Someone he wants to make a part of every single thing in his life. “There could be a giraffe there and still all I care about is seeing you up there tonight”, you shrug trying to lighten his anxiety. “Sorry to disappoint we do not have a giraffe, that’s the venue next to this”, he sighed, yet there it was his infamous grin you had fallen victim to. “Bummer”, you scrunch up your nose before leaning in to chase a couple of fleeting kisses.

You watch him from the pit as well. I mean, that would be an opportunity wasted. He’s grooving the whole show. Pulling all sorts of stunts. Even Vessel joins in pointing towards you before yanking Ivy’s head back for a kiss. Fans scream around but all you can do is laugh at the death glare Ivy shoots at Vessel, who’s laughing to himself as he runs to the other side of the stage.

You’re lounging in one of his jackets when he finally comes backstage. Paint still smudged all over his face. “You look like a raccoon”, you chuckled, standing up to greet him. His arms are around you in an instant, bending you back slightly as he kisses you. “Okay, rockstar, knocking me out of my boots”, you blow a breath out, making him laugh.

“How was it? Tell me I looked hot?”, he wiggled his eyebrows at you. “How you submitted to Vessel? Yeah, that was sexy”, you smirked back at him, “You recon he would give me tips on how…”, but you don’t get to finish before Ivy’s lips are back on yours, kissing you senseless.

[dollishsz]

TRAITS THAT MAKE BATBOYS FALL INLOVE W YOU INSTANTLY ── .✦

a/n: genuinely I feel like as a enfp, idk what traits happen tbh oml, but literally i love romance but um 🧍🏻‍♀️ nobody asking me out fr fr (i barely go fucking outside) but anyways sorry if I haven’t got to your requests yet, I have like 7 to get to but I’m preparing for my birthday.

(Tags: batboys x reader)

DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

Playful and Fun-Loving: He adores someone who’s not afraid to be silly. If you randomly burst into song or dance around the kitchen, he’s HEAD OVER HEELSS.

Emotionally Supportive: He falls harder for someone who understands his emotional side and offers support without judgment. Bonus points if you can coax him into sharing his feelings.

Affectionate: Physical touch is everything to him—whether it’s holding hands, surprise hugs, or running your fingers through his hair. He thrives on it.

Independent but Loyal: He admires someone who has their own goals but always makes it clear they’re in his corner. Seeing you succeed makes him proud.

Quick-Witted: If you can match his playful banter, it’s game over. He loves someone who can keep up with his teasing and give it right back.

JASON TODD ── .✦

Stubborn but Soft for Him: He’s drawn to someone who’s tough and stands their ground but melts when it comes to him. That contrast makes him fall harder.

Protective: If you subtly look out for him, like reminding him to eat or wrapping him in a blanket when he’s tired, it shows him how much you care, and he’s done for.

Dark Humor: Jason adores someone who gets his sarcasm and can laugh at his dark jokes without getting uncomfortable.

Courageous: He’s impressed by bravery, even if it’s in small ways—like standing up for yourself or others. He loves seeing your inner fire.

Comforting Presence: If you know how to calm him after nightmares or offer quiet reassurance during rough times, he’ll fall deeper every time.

TIM DRAKE ── .✦

Curiosity and Intelligence: Tim falls harder for someone who’s curious about the world. If you ask deep questions or challenge his thoughts, he’s fascinated.

Nerdy Interests: Share his love for books, tech, or even video games, and he’ll fall head over heels. He loves geeking out with someone.

Kindness: Simple acts of kindness—whether to him or others—hit him hard. Seeing you help someone in need makes his heart swell.

Organized Chaos: If you’re the type who looks like a mess but somehow has everything under control, he’ll be utterly charmed by your efficiency.

DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦

Strong Moral Compass: He’s deeply drawn to someone who stands up for what’s right, even when it’s difficult. He admires unwavering integrity.

Loves Animals: Show kindness to animals (especially his pets) and he’ll be secretly touched beyond words. Bonus if you win Alfred the Cat’s approval.

Quiet Strength: He admires someone who doesn’t need to be loud to command respect. A calm, steady demeanor paired with strength is irresistible to him.

Artistic Talent: He’s captivated by creativity. Whether it’s painting, writing, or music, he falls harder if you’re passionate about your art.

Challenges Him: He loves someone who won’t be easily intimidated by him. If you call him out or challenge his views respectfully, he’ll be impressed—and smitten.

BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦

Compassionate Heart: Bruce is drawn to someone who cares deeply for others. Seeing you be kind, even when it’s inconvenient, melts his guarded heart.

Grounded and Calm: He falls harder for someone who brings peace into his chaotic life. If you’re calm and collected, especially in stressful moments, it soothes him.

Loyal and Trustworthy: Loyalty means everything to Bruce. If you’re fiercely loyal and trustworthy, he’ll feel safe in ways he rarely does.

Subtle Strength: He admires quiet, inner strength—someone who doesn’t need to boast but stands firm when it matters.

Sense of Humor: A soft, gentle humor that can get him to crack a rare smile or laugh when he’s brooding pulls him in deeper every time.

[act-nat-ural]

Secret Admirer

word count: 1387

The first time you saw Kita Shinsuke, you knew he was someone special. He stood among his peers, his posture perfect, his calm demeanor radiating confidence without a single word. It was during the opening ceremony of your first year of high school, and although there were many faces to remember, he stood out to you. You couldn’t put your finger on why, but you were drawn to his quiet confidence.

From that day on, Kita became a familiar face in the hallways, court, and your classes. But despite being classmates, you never quite found the courage to talk to him. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to — no, you wanted to speak to him more than anything. It was just that, for some inexplicable reason, every time you tried to approach him, you froze up. His calm presence and composed nature were both intimidating and awe-inspiring.

At first, it was just little things that made you smile. The way his friends teased him about his leadership role, and how he’d respond with a small, knowing smile. How he always made sure everyone in the volleyball team was accounted for, whether during practice or after games, with the air of someone who genuinely cared for the wellbeing of others. You found yourself developing an overwhelming fondness for him, a secret affection that you couldn’t seem to shake off.

–

The first few months of school were uneventful, at least in terms of getting closer to Kita. You would occasionally see him in passing, often in the library or the gym, but he was always surrounded by his teammates or friends. You observed him from afar, quietly enjoying his company in the most subtle ways — like how he would carry his textbooks with such care, or how he would lend a hand to anyone in need, always so effortlessly kind.

You never expected anything to come from your crush, but that didn’t stop you from feeling a little flutter in your heart every time he smiled, whether it was directed at someone else or when his eyes casually met yours. Those moments were enough to make your day, though you never let anyone know just how much he occupied your thoughts.

But soon, you decided to take small steps to get his attention — or perhaps just to make him aware of your existence.

It started with leaving him notes. The first one was simple: a small thank you for the way he handled things during a group project, how he made everyone feel included, even though you knew you were the shy one in the group.

You left it in his locker, tucked between the pages of his volleyball folder, hoping he wouldn’t think too much about it. But the next day, you received a quiet nod from him in the hallway. It was the smallest acknowledgment, but to you, it was everything.

From there, you continued leaving little notes — harmless compliments about how he handled himself during practices, or how his leadership on the volleyball court inspired you. Each time you left one, your heart raced, hoping that he’d notice, yet dreading the idea of being found out.

–

As midterms came and went, the distance between you and Kita felt even more noticeable. It wasn’t that he didn’t acknowledge you, but rather, you had begun to notice how focused he was, always giving his best in everything he did. He spent hours studying, ensuring that he was prepared for each exam, and it only made him more admirable in your eyes.

The most you ever exchanged were brief moments between classes, when your paths would cross in the hallways, and you’d share a brief smile or polite greeting. But it never went beyond that.

Then came the day when your secret was almost exposed.

You had, once again, left a note for Kita after a particularly intense volleyball game. This time, the note was longer. You thanked him not just for his leadership, but for how he seemed to inspire his teammates, even in moments of doubt. It was honest, heartfelt, and something you had poured your feelings into. You hoped that it would give him some comfort, as it was clear that his responsibilities weighed heavily on him.

But this time, you made a mistake. You were too distracted by the thought of Kita reading your note that you didn’t realize someone had noticed you leaving it in his locker.

The next day, as you entered the gym to watch the team practice, one of his teammates — Aran — approached you with a teasing smile.

“You know,” Aran began with a knowing smile, “Kita’s been reading your notes, huh?”

Your heart skipped a beat. You felt the blood rush to your cheeks, and you immediately stammered, “W-Wait, what?”

“Don’t worry, he hasn’t said anything about it.” Aran smirked, clearly enjoying your flustered reaction. “But we’ve noticed him reading them during breaks. He looks kind of… distracted after.”

You were mortified, and yet, a small part of you felt a sense of relief. Kita had noticed your notes, and despite not saying anything, he was taking the time to read them. But still, the idea of him knowing the truth made your stomach turn.

Aran must have seen your panic because he patted your shoulder, trying to comfort you. “Don’t worry. Kita’s not the type to confront someone about something like that. He’s more of the ‘keep it to himself’ type. But just so you know, he’s been curious.”

–

The second semester rolled around, and it felt like everything had changed, though nothing really had. Kita continued to be his composed, reliable self, leading the team, excelling academically, and taking care of his friends. However, now there was an unspoken tension — one that was impossible to ignore.

It was during a school assembly that you found yourself in a situation where you could no longer avoid him. He was seated two rows in front of you, and though you tried to focus on the speaker, your attention kept drifting to him. His posture, the way his hair fell into his eyes, and the quiet intensity with which he listened — you couldn’t help but admire him even more.

Then, during the break between sessions, you noticed him walking toward you. Your heart raced, and you instinctively tried to make yourself smaller, but it was too late.

He stopped in front of you and gave you a slight smile, one that made your knees weak.

“Thank you,” he said softly. “For the notes. I… appreciate them.” His voice was calm, yet there was something else in it — a warmth, a sincerity that made your breath catch.

You blinked, unsure how to respond. “I wasn't- I didn't realize you knew it was me,” you stammered, avoiding eye contact.

He gives a sympathetic smile and explains, “I saw you leave one a few months ago. I figured that if you weren’t signing your name, you wouldn't respond well to me pointing it out.” He hesitates before adding, “I noticed you stopped leaving them recently. I wasn’t sure if I said something wrong.”

You shook your head quickly. “No, not at all! I just… wasn’t sure if they were helpful,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. “I just wanted to… let you know that I think you’re doing great.”

Kita’s eyes softened as he nodded slowly. “You don’t have to worry about that. I always appreciate kindness.”

For a moment, there was silence between you, the air charged with unspoken words. You were both nervous to be the first to speak, but he broke the silence.

“I think you’re a good person,” he said with a gentle smile. “And I’d like to get to know you better, if that’s alright.”

You froze. For a moment, everything felt unreal. The crush you had carried for so long, the notes you had written in secret, the unspoken affection — it was all finally coming to light.

“I’d like that too,” you finally replied, your voice steady now, the nerves replaced by a growing sense of warmth.

And just like that, the secret you had held for so long was no longer a secret. Kita had seen it all — the quiet admiration, the small gestures — and he wasn’t pushing you away. Instead, he was inviting you closer.

note: I had an urge to write for him... hope y'all enjoy!! Lev is next btw :)

[siflooping]

adding into this to say that i think it'd be a great exploration of like. ok let me try to word it.

edit this ended up being Way Too Fucking Long so its under a readmore. AND i broke it into two parts (added a bit of siffrin Braintime Thoughts (bad) to the next rb). i got wordy bitch disease!

so first there's the stuff that's relevant to sifloop in both canon and an au like this. loop is someone who changed so much from the Torment Nexus they were put in that they felt completely removed from who they used to be, who feels like the trauma they experienced is all they are. who loathes the person they used to be with passion, thinks that they were stupid and pathetic and needy. their past self who always felt like such a disgusting and terrible person that they assumed even their loved ones were put off by them and always one mistake away from hating them. who thought that they were objectively fundamentally unloveable.

and then loop meets someone who IS who they used to be, as a separate, distinct person. the person they, for a very long time, considered to be worthless, unloveable, repulsive by nature. they get to see themselves in third person, to interact with them as a person rather than an abstraction or their past self. and he's. well. just some guy (gn)? to someone on the outside of their head he's not horrible, mean, disgusting, selfish, monstrous, or any of the innumerable negative things siffrin as a person has always believed to be. they're just. a little guy? who is actually. kind of funny and endearing, who does his best, who loves their friends so much it hurts. who loop ends up genuinely enjoying the company of and caring about.

which i think is neat vis a vis self-perception, self-compassion and the extemely subjective way one usually sees themselves! i just think it'd be interesting to see an angle of this where sif like. remains as they were in act 1 instead of being put in the torment nexus and how that'd influence the rship.

there's no way loop WOULDN'T feel extremely bitter about the difference in their circumstances! i'm 50/50 as to whether theyd direct that towards sif as is at first (why does HE get to not suffer?! Why did THEY have to suffer where he didn't! it's not fair!). or if they'd instead direct it to like, the universe at large? in the 2hats fight they say they hate their country, the universe, the stars, but notably (to ME!) they never say they hate siffrin.

tbh i think either way they'd end up kind of hot and cold, both bitter and protective. prolly v possessive either way bc like that is LITERALLY who they were as a person before the timeloops tore away their personality and body! it's THEM. they're ALL that remains of the "original" siffrin. so if anyone gets to have him, to keep him, it should be loop! they went through hell, then had to do it AGAIN in a different flavor by watching one of their family members go through the Torment Nexus. and break out of it where they couldn't. and of realizing the reason the Torment Nexus existed, that both loop and one of their family members were pushed to the brink in a hell of repetition is bc of a Wish they accidentally made. they lost EVERYTHING. so. SOO! they deserve to have this at the very least (as a treat).

toxic yuri aside, i think non-looperrrrr siffrin's company would be unexpectedly comfortable & comforting to loop bc like. they know exactly how siffrin thinks bc you know. they used to be siffrin. esp since this siffrin isn't changed by the timeloop experience. so there's no anxiety over what he may be thinking of them (be it negative or positive) or if they secretly hate loop, because they can tell very easily! so hanging out with this siffrin would be like... reading a book you've read a million times, watching a play you've watched so many times you know every beat, or like comfort food. i knowww they'd do the equivalent of when cats act like them laying on your lap and purring is totally a coincidence, incidental, circumstancial, and does not indicate anything, you mean nothing to me, what do you mean you're going to the kitchen come BACK DONT LEAVE ME. fun for the whole family!

ok wait you know what'd be interesting and more importantly hilarious. sifloop, but in an au where someone else from the party is looping. can you fucking imagine

[hispanthicc]

Sex As A Guy Who Got Fat On Purpose

I like sex. I enjoy sex a lot. I haven't always "gotten off" during sex but that wasn't really a priority for me because I just liked the act of doing it. I think mostly I enjoyed getting my partner off. I used to have a lot of sex, or at least a lot in comparison to now, but since i've gained weight I haven't had much sex or any at all really.

I didn't realize how much this lack of sex was affecting me. I think having sex and being able to find people to have sex with me made me feel attractive. So the lack of it has made me feel unattractive, at least to locals. Online people seem to still find me attractive. I know that just because I haven't had it doesn't mean that I am unattractive. I know there are also a lot of factors that play into it. Anyways I went from having it regularly to not having it at all.

Gaining is hard for me so for the first few years of me trying to get fat on purpose I was basically just skinny, toned, and had a slightly rounded tummy which would completely disappear if I flexed. I could pass as skinny for a while. Then COVID hit and my physical activity levels became non existent. I very quickly went from being stuck at 130 lbs all the way to 220 lbs at my highest during 2020-2021. I also had a serious surgery which meant I couldn't do anything for about a year. So I got pretty chunky for a bit. then I lost like 40 lbs after going through a break up. which btw was not a sexual relationship, and I think that also affected me a lot in a negative way. Especially because of some of the things he said in the end which made me feel really unattractive.

I'm not really the type of guy that chases anyone or initiates anything and this has nothing to do with my weight because i've never pursued anyone that isn't already pursuing me. I am really shy and the very few times i've tried, i've been rejected. So I don't. This usually just leads to me talking to a bunch of guys that i'm not attracted to which definitely doesn't lead to sex.

I used to be really open sexually. i've found thing i've written and posted from years ago that I would probably be too shy or too embarrassed to say now. But being with my ex he kinda made me feel a lot of shame for the things that I liked sexually or was attracted to. Since then I find it hard to connect with people sexually.

I think i'm also afraid that if I am too open sexually it'll attract the wrong kinds of people, which is something I unfortunately have experience with.

Most of the guys that are attracted to me are usually not locals and unfortunately means that a lot of the communication is all talk. They usually want me to send nudes or they want to send me nudes and sometimes looking is nice but I am not always in the mood to take pics for someone especially when they're probably just gonna disappear when they cum. Online sexual communication doesn't really do it for me. I want it in real life, the online barrier is frustrating and it honestly feels no different than jerking off to porn, which is fine but the real thing is so much better. There seems to be a lack of a real personal connection with it and it feels like i'm like mentally turned off by it. I never ask for nudes because I don't want anyone asking me for nudes. I genuinely hate when I’m talking to someone and they're so nice at first and then they say "Can I see more of you" because then it feels like they didn't mean any of the compliments they were just trying to soften me up to get nudes out of me. I usually only send stuff like that to friends.

It also seems like guys are more focused on what they want instead of what I want and many of them say things like "I want to do this to you" and never "would you like it if I did this to you" which maybe isn't that big of a deal but it comes across as less caring,

I don't know how I appear to others but I would say currently I look pretty chubby all over and I don't think I would be mistaken for skinny even when I suck in. Sometimes I shock myself when I see my reflection or see a pic someone else took. My body is bigger all over and it's still very new to me to actually be a fat guy. I like the way I look and I like the way being fat feels. I feel sexually aroused by it and I keep trying to make myself bigger and bigger but I know that isn't a common thing for people to be into IRL. So it's kinda like "do I lose weight so that I can be physically appealing enough to have sex irl" or do I just keep gaining cuz it makes me happier in general even if it is killing my sex life. I also think about how a lot of people in the gainer community are Asexual-ish or their sexuality is so tied to the fat that if I did lose weight i'd probably lose the affection of those people too. So many times I see "so-and-so lost weight and now I’m not attracted to them anymore" which is extremely hurtful even if it doesn't apply to me at the moment.

I wish I wasn't so shy but I’m not sure that it would matter. I feel like everyone has an idea of what they want in a partner (sexually or romantically) and I’m not sure that I fit, no pun intended, what people want where I live, and I hate knowing that eventually i'll probably have to move just to find someone.

I also know that my tragic dating life and non existent sex life are my fault. I'm not an easy person to get close to or be with but I’m trying to learn how let people in and be the best I can be for someone whenever I do actually connect.

[rorygilmoresgf]

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ — unexpected love; elphaba thropp & glinda upland

paring : elphaba thropp x glinda upland x fem!reader

reader sticks up for elphaba, glinda feels bad and starts being nicer, she finds herself feeling things, that aren’t platonic?

The air at Shiz was always electric, the hum of students rushing through hallways, whispers of gossip swirling in every corner, and the constant pressure of exams hanging over everyone’s heads. 

For most students, this was just part of the grind—but for you, there was always something else: the undercurrent of loneliness that seemed to follow Elphaba, as constant as her shadow.

It wasn’t that she wasn’t capable of handling it. Elphaba was strong, more than anyone gave her credit for. But there was something about the way she carried herself—isolated, guarded, as if she were constantly preparing for a world that was always just a step away from breaking her.

You never could quite understand why people treated her the way they did, but there you were, sitting beside her at the long wooden table in the common room, a soft breeze trickling through the open window. You tried to concentrate on your homework, the quiet clatter of books and papers the only sound in the room, when suddenly, you heard Glinda’s unmistakable voice.

“Well, Elphaba,” Glinda said with a little too much cheer, her voice dripping with something between amusement and mockery, “are you sure you’re not going to burn your papers with all that… heat you’re giving them?”

You could feel Elphaba tense beside you, her eyes narrowing at the comment. 

Her quill paused mid-sentence, and for a second, you swore the temperature in the room dropped a few degrees. Glinda, oblivious as always to the weight of her words, continued, her gaze flicking between you and Elphaba.

“I mean, really,” she added, her words light as a feather but sharp as a blade. “You can’t possibly be having fun with all this studying, can you? I don’t even know how you do it. You must be miserable.”

You didn’t even think, just reacted. You pushed yourself slightly out of your seat, leaning over to face Glinda.

“Glinda, that’s enough,” you said, voice steady but carrying an edge. “Just because Elphaba doesn’t care for endless gossiping and glitzy parties doesn’t mean she’s miserable.”

Glinda blinked, surprised by your sudden defense. “Oh, come on, I was just joking around!” she said, her tone faltering. “We’re friends, right?”

You couldn’t help the frustration that bubbled up inside you. “Being friends means treatingeach other like friends, not making sarcastic comments about how someone spends their time. Elphaba works hard. And maybe if you stopped acting like her studying was some kind of joke, you’d see that.”

There was a charged silence in the room as the words hung in the air, the tension between you and Glinda palpable. 

But then, you saw it. The faintest glimmer in Elphaba’s eyes, the tiniest of smiles tugging at the corners of her lips. It was small, but it was there. And for a split second, you wondered if you’d made a mistake.

“I’m… sorry,” Glinda said, her voice soft, and the apology seemed genuine, though laced with the uncertainty of someone who didn’t quite understand what they’d done wrong. “I didn’t mean to upset you, Elphaba.”

Elphaba didn’t look up, but her voice was quieter than usual, a softness you didn’t often hear. “I’m fine, really. But… thanks. For standing up for me.”

The words landed between the three of you, shifting the atmosphere like a breeze before a storm. Glinda, for once, seemed at a loss for words, and you couldn’t quite read the expression on Elphaba’s face—was it appreciation, or something else?

But in that moment, something changed. Maybe it was just a small crack in the surface, or maybe it was the beginning of something deeper. 

The three of you sat there, the awkwardness lingering for just a moment longer than it should have, before the tension slowly eased, replaced by the comfortable silence of shared space.

—

The days after the incident in the common room were strange—different, in a way that neither of you quite understood. Elphaba still kept mostly to herself, immersed in her studies, and Glinda, while she made an effort to be nicer, still hovered around with her usual antics. 

But something had shifted. There was a subtle warmth between you and Elphaba, something unspoken, but real.

You weren’t sure what had changed exactly—maybe it was the way she’d looked at you after you stood up for her, or the quiet thank you she’d offered afterward, but the distance between you seemed to lessen. 

You started finding excuses to sit near her during meals, offering her a quiet smile or the occasional comment about the weather or the homework that both of you hated equally. Small things, but they meant something.

One day, you found yourself sitting at the corner of the courtyard, nursing a warm drink in your hands as you watched the late afternoon sunlight spill across the grass. The rest of the campus had emptied out, leaving only a few students wandering between buildings, but you weren’t alone. 

Elphaba had joined you quietly, as she always did—no words at first, just a soft thud of her boots as she sat beside you.

You didn’t mind the silence. In fact, you welcomed it. There was a comfort in sitting with someone without needing to fill the space with chatter. Elphaba always seemed to prefer it that way, and so did you.

After a few minutes, Elphaba shifted slightly in her seat, her eyes on the distant horizon. You knew she wasn’t one for small talk, but you couldn’t help yourself.

“Do you think the world will ever change?” you asked quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. “Like, really change?”

Elphaba’s gaze flickered over to you, and for a moment, there was hesitation in her eyes. She had a habit of keeping her emotions tightly locked away, but you could see the shift—the way her shoulders relaxed just a fraction, as if she was finally letting herself breathe.

“You mean in the way people treat each other?” she asked, her voice low but thoughtful.

You nodded, meeting her eyes now. “Yeah. I mean… Glinda and the others—they don’t always see what’s really going on with you. They don’t see how hard you work, or how much you care. They just see… whatever they want to see.”

Elphaba’s lips tightened for a moment, and you could see the familiar bitterness flash in her eyes. But then, she sighed, a soft, almost reluctant sound. “I’ve learned to stop trying to change their minds. People don’t change that easily. But maybe… maybe it’s enough if I change the way I see things.”

You didn’t speak right away, letting the words sink in. There was something vulnerable in her tone, a rare honesty that you didn’t expect from her. You offered a small, reassuring smile, the kind that didn’t need to be said aloud.

“Maybe the world doesn’t have to change all at once,” you said. “Maybe it just takes one person to change the way they see things. Even if it’s just you and me.”

Elphaba looked at you then, her green eyes softening, and for the first time in what felt like ages, you saw a glimpse of something warm—something genuine.

“Yeah,” she said, the corners of her lips lifting into the smallest of smiles. “Maybe you’re right.”

From that moment on, it was clear that something was blooming between the two of you. It wasn’t fast, it wasn’t perfect, but it was real. 

There were no grand gestures, no big moments of dramatic confession—just the slow, steady building of a quiet friendship that you both desperately needed.

—

The next few weeks felt like a blur—study sessions, homework, and the constant shuffle of life at Shiz. But between the chaos, you found yourself drawn to Elphaba more and more. It wasn’t anything spectacular, just the quiet comfort of being in each other’s company.

One evening, after a particularly grueling day of exams, you found yourself sitting by the fire in the common room. Elphaba was at her usual spot by the window, a book in hand, her dark green face partially illuminated by the soft glow of the firelight. You were curled up in one of the armchairs, trying to relax your sore muscles.

Elphaba glanced over at you, noticing the tense line of your shoulders. “You’re not sleeping well, are you?” she asked, her voice unexpectedly gentle.

You looked up at her, surprised. “What? Oh, I just… I’m fine. Just tired.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You look like you’re carrying the weight of the world. You should take a break sometime, you know.”

You chuckled softly, leaning back in your chair. “I guess it’s hard to stop once you’ve gotten used to pushing through it.”

Elphaba paused, her eyes thoughtful. “Sometimes pushing through can break you.”

The unexpected honesty caught you off guard, but you could tell she wasn’t just speaking from theory. You met her gaze, offering a small, understanding smile.

“Maybe we can both take a break then,” you said, sitting up. “You know, from all this studying.”

Elphaba raised an eyebrow. “And what exactly do you suggest?”

Without warning, you reached for the stack of books on the table and tossed them aside. “I don’t know… something more fun. How about a walk around the campus? The fresh air might do us some good.”

Elphaba looked like she was about to protest, but after a long pause, she gave a slight nod. “Fine. But if we end up in the stables, I’m going straight back inside.”

You laughed, already standing up. “Deal.”

A few days later, you and Elphaba were sitting on the grassy hill near the courtyard, sharing stories and laughs. 

The conversation drifted from mundane things—what the professors had said in class that day—to more personal matters. 

Elphaba opened up, little by little, talking about her childhood, about the people who didn’t understand her. You listened, never interrupting, just offering a kind word when it was needed. There was a rare vulnerability in her voice, a softness you hadn’t seen before.

“I don’t think many people really get me,” she said quietly, looking out at the sunset. “But I’m starting to think maybe… maybe that’s okay.”

You smiled gently, your heart swelling at the moment of quiet connection. “You don’t have to be like everyone else, Elphaba. You’re already pretty amazing the way you are.”

The words seemed to hang in the air between you, both of you silent for a long time, just enjoying each other’s presence.

It wasn’t long before Glinda started showing up, too—seemingly out of nowhere. At first, she’d wander into the courtyard while you and Elphaba were sitting together, her high heels tapping loudly against the stone path.

“Okay, okay,” Glinda would say, holding up her hands in mock surrender. “I’ll join you guys, but only because I can’t stand seeing you both brooding all alone. It’s so dramatic.”

You and Elphaba exchanged amused glances, but neither of you protested. Glinda, despite her sometimes overwhelming personality, had her moments of genuine sweetness, and she seemed to be trying—really trying—to be more kind.

Slowly, the three of you fell into a routine.

 Glinda would join you and Elphaba for casual walks around campus, or sit beside you both at meals. It wasn’t perfect. There were moments of tension, especially when Glinda’s usual teasing slipped out, but you could tell she was making an effort. And for Elphaba, that meant something.

One afternoon, the three of you found yourselves in the library. Elphaba had just finished another stack of books, and Glinda had somehow dragged the two of you into a heated debate about the best way to decorate the dorms for the upcoming semester. 

The conversation was lighthearted, but there was something new in the air—the way you all felt more like a team, like friends who’d somehow found each other.

At one point, Glinda leaned back in her chair, smirking. “You know, you two really are a mysterious pair. Elphaba’s always so serious, and you,” she turned to you, “well, you’re just toonice. You balance each other out pretty well.”

You exchanged a look with Elphaba, a smile tugging at your lips. “I guess we do.”

And in that moment, despite the chaos of everything around you, it felt like you were finally all on the same page. Glinda, with her shine and spark, Elphaba, with her quiet intensity, and you, somewhere in between, finding your place.

It wasn’t perfect. But for the first time in a long while, it felt like things were right.

—

It was a quiet evening, and the three of you had just finished a rather long study session. You were now lounging in the common room, the crackle of the fireplace the only sound filling the space. You were tired, but there was a strange sense of comfort in the familiar routine of being with both Elphaba and Glinda.

Elphaba, of course, had her nose buried in yet another book, her eyes scanning the pages with intensity. Glinda, however, had managed to sneak away from her own homework, casually leaning back in her chair and humming a tune.

After a moment, Elphaba let out an exasperated sigh, clearly frustrated with whatever she was reading. She rubbed her temples, closing the book with a soft thud.

“Something wrong?” Glinda asked, not even looking up from her reflection in the mirror as she adjusted a strand of hair. Her tone was light, teasing, but there was something softer in it than usual.

Elphaba didn’t answer immediately. She simply stared at the pages of her book, a frown creasing her brow. You could tell it wasn’t just the material that was bothering her.

“It’s just… this isn’t going the way I thought it would,” Elphaba muttered, her voice quieter now. “I thought I could just study and figure things out. But sometimes, it feels like no matter how much I do, I’m still falling short.”

Glinda finally turned her head, meeting Elphaba’s gaze. For a moment, there was a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes—something real, something far from the usual bubbly facade.

“You’re not falling short, Elphaba,” Glinda said softly, her voice sincere. “You’re doingeverything. And sometimes, that’s enough, even if it doesn’t feel like it.”

Elphaba blinked, clearly caught off guard by Glinda’s sudden seriousness. The words seemed to hang in the air for a moment, as if Elphaba was processing them, allowing herself to actually hear them.

“Thanks,” Elphaba finally said, her voice almost shy. She shifted in her seat, her tone slightly more hesitant than usual. “I… I know I don’t always say it, but I appreciate it.”

Glinda smiled, though it wasn’t the usual teasing grin. It was soft, almost tender. “Of course, Elphie. You know I’ve got your back.”

There was a long silence after that. You could almost feel the weight of the moment hanging between them, and for the first time, it didn’t feel forced. There was no pretense, no sarcasm—just two people, quietly learning to understand each other.

Another day, the three of you had wandered into the courtyard after dinner, the air crisp as the sun began to dip below the horizon. Elphaba and Glinda had naturally fallen into their usual banter, but there was a new ease in their interactions—like the sharp edges of their old rivalry were softening just a bit.

“So, how’s that little project you’ve been working on?” Glinda asked, throwing Elphaba a sidelong glance. “I’m sure it’s something insufferably intellectual, right?”

Elphaba shot Glinda a look that would have been intimidating on anyone else, but Glinda just giggled.

“I’m trying to write something,” Elphaba said, a small but proud smile playing on her lips. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

Glinda gasped dramatically, her hands flying to her chest. “I knew it! You’re secretly a poet! I should’ve figured it out all along. You’re so deep, Elphaba, it’s tragic.”

Elphaba rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress the chuckle that escaped her lips. “I’m not a poet, Glinda. I just think—well, never mind.”

But Glinda wasn’t about to let it slide. “No, no. Tell me! What’s your secret talent? Come on, I’m practically begging you.”

You watched as Elphaba seemed to hesitate, but then, slowly, she gave in. “Fine,” she muttered, turning to face Glinda more directly. “I write letters. To people I don’t know. Just… random thoughts.”

Glinda blinked in surprise, and for a moment, you thought she might say something sarcastic, but instead, she looked almost thoughtful.

“That’s… actually kind of nice,” Glinda said quietly. “I think it’s sweet that you get your thoughts out that way. It’s… personal, you know?”

Elphaba didn’t look at Glinda, her gaze focused on the ground beneath her. “Yeah, well. It’s the only way I can make sense of things sometimes.”

There was something almost vulnerable in Elphaba’s words, and for once, Glinda didn’t tease her. Instead, she reached out, gently tapping her on the arm.

“Hey, I think that’s really cool, Elphie,” she said softly. “If you ever want to share one, I’ll listen.”

Elphaba looked at her, and for a fleeting moment, there was a quiet understanding between them—a moment where the walls they’d both built started to crack, just a little.

—

The day was clear and warm, the kind of afternoon that made Shiz seem less like a strict, academic institution and more like a peaceful haven. 

After much coaxing, Glinda had convinced you and Elphaba to join her for a picnic in the gardens—though Elphaba had initially protested the idea, claiming that she “didn’t have time for such frivolity,” you knew she’d come around. 

There was something about the way the sunlight filtered through the trees that made it hard to resist.

By the time the three of you found a good spot near a large oak tree, the air was thick with the sounds of birds and distant chatter from other students enjoying their free time. Glinda spread out a blanket with more flourish than necessary, tossing her hair over her shoulder dramatically.

“Look at us, spending a lovely afternoon together,” Glinda said with a smile, her voice warm. “Just three friends, living our best lives. Totally not a date.”

You raised an eyebrow, glancing at Elphaba as she set down the basket. Elphaba rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

“Right, not a date,” Elphaba agreed dryly. “I’m just here to make sure neither of you gets sunburned.”

You chuckled, settling down on the blanket and pulling out a sandwich. Glinda, of course, had already prepared an impressive spread, with sandwiches, fruit, and something that looked suspiciously like cupcakes.

“So,” Glinda started, her eyes sparkling mischievously, “what’s the deal with you two, anyway?”

You froze for a second, glancing at Elphaba. “What do you mean?”

Glinda grinned. “You know… you two. You’ve been hanging out a lot. It’s adorable, really. Everyone at Shiz is starting to talk.”

You could feel the warmth creeping up your neck, and Elphaba’s expression mirrored yours—both of you caught off guard by the sudden shift in conversation. Glinda, though, was practically glowing with amusement, clearly enjoying the moment.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said, fumbling with your sandwich as if that would somehow distract from the awkwardness.

“Come on,” Glinda continued, eyes twinkling. “Don’t pretend you haven’t noticed the way Elphaba looks at you. And you—” she pointed at you, “—you get all shy whenever she says something nice.”

Elphaba’s face turned a shade darker, and she quickly reached for a piece of fruit to avoid looking at either of you. “You’re ridiculous, Glinda. It’s not like that,” she muttered, though her voice lacked its usual sharpness.

“Oh, sure,” Glinda said with a wink. “Whatever you say, Elphie. But it’s not just the two of you. I mean, look at how you’re all sitting so close. The world can tell, you know.”

You looked down at the blanket, realizing that, somehow, you and Elphaba had ended up sitting next to each other, with only a few inches between you. 

Glinda was sitting just a little further off, but still close enough that it made the arrangement seem… odd. 

Was it a date? It hadn’t felt like one, not in the way Glinda seemed to be implying. You and Elphaba had always shared moments like this, just the two of you, without any intention of anything romantic.

But now, in the warm afternoon sunlight, with Glinda’s teasing floating in the air, you couldn’t help but feel a little self-conscious.

“I don’t think anyone’s going to get the wrong idea,” you said quickly, shifting uncomfortably. “We’re just friends, right?”

Elphaba shot you a look, and despite herself, a small, almost imperceptible smirk tugged at her lips. “Right. Just friends.”

Glinda leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Are you sure? Because if this is a secret date, I have to know all the details. I’m your number one fan, after all.”

You laughed nervously, the awkwardness still hanging in the air. But even as you spoke, you couldn’t help but notice how comfortable you felt sitting next to Elphaba. It was natural, easy, like the conversation didn’t even need to be said aloud.

“Maybe we should just enjoy the picnic, huh?” you suggested, trying to steer the conversation away from romance and back to the lightheartedness you had before.

“Fine, fine,” Glinda said, leaning back with a dramatic sigh. “But I’ll be watching. Don’t think I won’t figure this out.”

The afternoon continued, and as the sun began to set, the three of you settled into a more relaxed atmosphere. 

Elphaba, despite her usual guarded nature, actually seemed to be enjoying herself. She even joined in on some of the jokes, laughing along with Glinda’s exaggerated tales of her “glamorous” life.

You caught a quiet moment with Elphaba near the end of the picnic, the two of you standing together at the edge of the blanket.

“Don’t mind her,” you said softly, nudging Elphaba gently. “She likes to stir things up.”

Elphaba smirked, but it was warmer than usual. “Yeah, well, if she keeps calling us a couple, I might just have to kiss you to make her stop.”

Your eyes widened, and Elphaba, clearly having fun with her teasing, quickly added, “I’m kidding.”

But for just a split second, you both locked eyes, and there was a strange flutter in your chest. Maybe it was the lighthearted teasing, maybe it was just the moment, but there was something in the air between you that felt different. Real. Honest. And just maybe, Glinda wasn’t entirely wrong.

—

It was one of those rare, quiet evenings when the campus seemed to settle into a peaceful lull. After a week of chaotic classes and exams, the three of you—Elphaba, Glinda, and you—found yourselves gathered in the Shiz common room. 

The fireplace crackled softly, casting flickering shadows across the space. You were all tired, but there was a certain warmth in the room—something unspoken that made you want to stay there, together.

Glinda, as usual, was sprawled out on a couch, her legs propped up on the armrest, a bright grin on her face. You and Elphaba sat nearby, Elphaba with a book in hand, and you just enjoying the peaceful evening.

“So,” Glinda began, turning to look at you with a mischievous glint in her eyes, “tell me, dearest,” she addressed you with exaggerated sweetness, “have you thought any more about… us?” She leaned forward a little, her voice full of playful teasing. “You know, you and me. We’d be fabulous together.”

You blinked, unsure of where she was going with this, but you recognized the look in her eyes—she was clearly setting the stage for another round of her usual flirtatious games.

“Oh no,” you said, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you’re going to start again.”

Glinda pouted, dramatically flicking her hair over her shoulder. “What? No! I just think we’d be so cute together, don’t you? You’re so charming, so adorable… And honestly, I’ve got nothing but time and way too many compliments for you, darling.”

Elphaba, who had been trying to ignore the conversation by pretending to focus on her book, couldn’t help but roll her eyes. She made a sound of disbelief—half annoyance, half amusement.

“Glinda,” Elphaba said, not bothering to hide her sarcasm. “You can’t just flirt with everyone you meet. You’re giving all of us a headache.”

Glinda simply flashed Elphaba an innocent smile, unbothered by her comment. “Oh, come on, Elphie, it’s all in good fun. Besides,” she added with a sly smile, “I can’t help it if I have perfecttaste, can I?”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Right, because you just can’t resist flirting with me.” You paused for a moment, making eye contact with Glinda, before adding with a teasing tone, “Is it because you secretly like me?”

Glinda leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with a flirty challenge. “Oh, you,” she said with a sigh, batting her lashes. “You make it so hard to stay professional, don’t you?”

Elphaba, clearly not amused, raised an eyebrow. “Are you really flirting with her right now? In front of me? This is ridiculous.”

You chuckled, knowing exactly what Elphaba meant. There was something a little over-the-top about the whole situation, but you couldn’t deny it—Glinda’s flirting was kind of entertaining, in a way. And in some strange way, it was oddly… fun. But there was also something else there, hidden behind her words, a warmth that was starting to feel less like playful teasing and more like something real.

As Glinda continued to talk, there was a subtle change in her energy. She was still being her usual dramatic self, but there was something deeper in the way she was looking at you. Her teasing smile softened, and her voice became quieter, more genuine.

“Seriously though,” Glinda said, her gaze lingering on you for a moment before glancing at Elphaba, “you two are different. You’re like… a breath of fresh air. I don’t know how to explain it, but it’s kind of… refreshing.” She smiled softly, a rare moment of vulnerability breaking through her usual bubbly demeanor.

You were taken aback by her sudden shift, unsure of how to respond, but there was a softness in her tone that made you feel like maybe there was more to her flirtations than you realized. And then, just as quickly as it had come, her flirtatious nature returned, almost like a defense mechanism.

“You two are lucky I’m not making more moves,” Glinda said, winking. “Otherwise, I’d be trouble. You’d never escape me.”

But this time, her teasing didn’t feel like a joke. There was something in the way she looked at you, and something in the way her eyes briefly flicked over to Elphaba, that made you realize that maybe, just maybe, there was more than just flirtation here.

You glanced at Elphaba, noticing the way she had become more still, her eyes focused on her book again but her attention clearly elsewhere. There was a strange tension in the air, like something was hanging between the three of you, unspoken but very much present.

And then, for the first time in a while, you caught Elphaba’s gaze—just for a brief moment—but it felt like more. It wasn’t just the usual friendly glance. It was like she was considering something, feeling something, and so were you.

“Alright, alright,” you said, standing up and trying to shake off the awkward tension. “Let’s just enjoy the quiet for a second, huh?”

Elphaba nodded, clearly still processing everything that had been said. But as the silence stretched on, you noticed her stealing a glance at you every now and then, her usual guarded demeanor slipping just a little.

—

The night had fallen quiet, the fire in the hearth crackling softly as the three of you sat in the common room. Glinda had slipped into one of her more reflective moods, no longer speaking in her usual dramatic tones. She was sitting cross-legged on the couch, a rare moment of silence surrounding her. You and Elphaba had been talking about trivial matters at first, but it wasn’t long before the conversation began to slow, leaving a heavy stillness in the air.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was different—more real—between the three of you now. All of the teasing, the laughter, the flirtations, had led to something unspoken, something that was sitting just beneath the surface, begging to be addressed.

Glinda was the first to break the silence, her voice soft and uncharacteristically serious.

“Do you ever feel like you’re too much?” she asked, looking at both of you. “Like… like you’re pushing everyone away without even meaning to?”

You glanced over at Elphaba, but it was Glinda’s vulnerability that caught you off guard. You didn’t expect her to speak like this, not after all the playful flirting and teasing. The sudden shift in tone left you feeling a little exposed, like she was finally letting down the walls she’d been hiding behind.

Elphaba was quiet, her lips pressed together in contemplation. You could tell she wasn’t sure how to respond to that either, but the vulnerability in Glinda’s voice seemed to make her rethink her usual sarcasm. She shifted a little on the couch, leaning back against the cushions.

“You’re not too much, Glinda,” Elphaba said softly, her voice calmer than usual. “You’re just… honest. Even if it’s wrapped up in jokes and teasing, it’s real.” She glanced at you, and you could feel the unspoken words hanging between you.

You took a deep breath, your heart racing as you finally met Glinda’s gaze. “You know,” you began slowly, “it’s not always about the jokes. Sometimes, the things we say… they actually mean something.” You hesitated, the weight of your own words hitting you harder than you expected. “And I think—”

Glinda’s eyes flicked between you and Elphaba, a sudden realization flashing across her face. “Oh,” she said softly, her voice quieter than before. “So, we’re all just… pretending, huh?”

Your heart skipped a beat. Glinda’s smile faltered for a second, and it was then that you realized how much she truly cared—about you, about Elphaba, about everything. The flirting had never been just for fun; it was her way of masking something deeper, something she had been too afraid to confront.

“I’m not pretending,” you said firmly, taking a step closer. “I think we all know by now that… there’s something between us. Something more than just… whatever we’ve been calling it.”

Glinda’s eyes softened, her usual confident demeanor wavering as she processed your words. And then, finally, Elphaba spoke.

“I’m not good at this kind of thing,” Elphaba said, her voice low and a little unsure. “But I’m not pretending either.” She turned to you, her eyes lingering for just a moment before meeting Glinda’s. “There’s something here. And I think we’ve all been trying to avoid it for too long.”

The words hung in the air like a delicate thread, pulling all of you closer together.

Glinda’s eyes met yours again, and for the first time, you saw the vulnerability behind her teasing. She bit her lip, as if unsure whether to speak her heart. But then, with a deep breath, she said the one thing that made everything click.

“I think… I think I’m in love with you,” Glinda said, her voice barely above a whisper, but the weight of it was undeniable.

You blinked, shocked by the sudden declaration, but as you looked at her, you realized that it wasn’t just a flirtation anymore. This was real. The way her eyes shone with something deeper, something more serious. And in that moment, you realized that you were falling for her too.

“I—” you began, unsure of how to respond, but then Elphaba spoke, her voice steady but full of something raw.

“I’m not going to pretend that I haven’t been feeling the same,” Elphaba said, her eyes unwavering. “I don’t know what this is—what any of this means—but I know that I care about you.” She turned to Glinda, her voice softer now. “And I care about you too, Glinda.”

The room seemed to still as the three of you stood there, unsure of where to go next. The words were out in the open now, hanging in the air, and all you could do was let the silence settle around you.

Glinda’s gaze flicked between you and Elphaba, her lips trembling as she spoke again, this time with a little more certainty.

“Maybe… we don’t need to have all the answers right now,” she said, her voice quieter than before. “Maybe it’s okay just to… feel this. Whatever this is.”

You nodded, your heart still racing as you stepped closer to both of them. “Yeah. Maybe it’s enough just to feel it.”

For a long moment, the three of you simply stood there, the weight of everything that had been left unsaid finally coming to the surface. And in that quiet, uncertain moment, you realized that none of you had to be afraid of what was happening. Maybe the truth was messy, but it was real, and it was yours.

And for the first time in a long while, you felt like you were exactly where you were supposed to be.

—

The silence stretched between the three of you, heavy and thick, like the calm before a storm. The confession had left you all exposed in ways you hadn’t been before. But for some reason, the tension felt comforting rather than awkward, as though the raw honesty between you and Elphaba and Glinda had created a new kind of connection.

You could hear your heart pounding in your chest, a rhythm that echoed through the space. It wasn’t just the lingering weight of the words spoken—it was the feeling of being on the edge of something new, something that had the potential to change everything.

Glinda was the first to break the silence, but her voice was quieter now, softer. Her usual confident, flirtatious tone had been replaced with something more genuine. “So… we’re really doing this, huh?” Her smile was faint, but there was something in her eyes that made you want to step closer.

You nodded, your voice low as you met her gaze. “Yeah… I think we are.”

Elphaba stood beside you, her arms crossed over her chest as she observed the two of you. There was a quiet understanding in her eyes, and for a moment, you wondered if she was thinking about how all of this had come to be—how you had all been strangers, then friends, and now… something more.

And then, before you could overthink it, Glinda stepped closer to you, her breath catching slightly as she tilted her head. The look in her eyes was intense, but there was something hesitant in her movements—like she was still unsure if she should close the gap that was growing between the three of you.

Without thinking, you reached out, your hand brushing hers. It was a small touch, but it sent a shock of warmth through you. She looked down at your hand, then back up at your face, her expression softening.

“I… I’ve never done this before,” Glinda admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve never… felt like this. Not for anyone.”

You didn’t need to say anything in return. You just moved closer, a part of you knowing what was about to happen. And as you stood in front of her, you felt Elphaba’s presence beside you—her steady gaze, her warmth, her unspoken approval. It was as if everything had aligned in this one moment.

Glinda reached up, her fingers brushing against your cheek before she hesitated, searching your eyes. “Are you sure?” she asked softly, her lips only inches away.

You nodded, the closeness between the three of you too electric to ignore. Without waiting any longer, you closed the gap, your lips meeting hers in a soft, tentative kiss. It was slow at first, a gentle exploration of emotions that had been building for so long. You felt the weight of everything that had led to this moment, and in that kiss, you knew that this was the beginning of something new, something beautiful.

But then, as the kiss deepened, you felt another warmth press against your side—Elphaba. You’d almost forgotten she was there, but the moment she moved closer, her hand finding your wrist, you realized that it wasn’t just between you and Glinda anymore. It was between the three of you.

You didn’t pull away from Glinda as you turned your head, your lips now meeting Elphaba’s in a kiss that was both fiery and soft, full of everything that had been unsaid between you for so long. The sensation of two pairs of lips on yours sent a rush of emotions through you—an intoxicating mixture of longing, tenderness, and the realization that this was exactly where you were meant to be.

The kiss was electric—full of unspoken promises and the weight of everything that had been simmering beneath the surface. It wasn’t rushed, but it wasn’t without urgency, either. It was a kiss that spoke volumes without saying a word.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and wide-eyed, you saw the same mixture of wonder and uncertainty reflected in both Glinda’s and Elphaba’s eyes. It wasn’t a perfect moment, but it was real—and for the first time, none of you were afraid to admit that.

Glinda gave a soft laugh, her lips curling into a smile that was equal parts shy and confident. “Well… that was unexpected.”

Elphaba, who had been quiet since the kiss, finally let out a breath, her face flushed. “I guess we’re not pretending anymore,” she said, her voice still slightly unsteady.

You smiled, feeling your heart race as you stood there, between them, realizing that this was just the beginning of something completely new. It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t easy. But it was yours.

“Not pretending,” you agreed, your hand finding Elphaba’s, and then Glinda’s. You stood there for a moment, feeling the weight of the night settle in your bones. Whatever this was, you were ready to face it—with them, together.

laur yaps ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ — okayy first fic how are we feeling about this? I made it in 30 minutes so it may not be the best…but oh well!

have a great day or night <3

[nausicaamusiclover20]

How’s Dating James Hetfield?

How you met?

★You met James at a backstage party after one of Metallica’s concerts. You were hanging out with mutual friends, and you didn't even realize who he was at first. He struck you as approachable and down-to-earth, someone who didn’t carry the usual “rockstar” arrogance. You talked about your shared love for music, and when you mentioned your love for the classics, his eyes lit up. There was an instant connection.

First impression

★His first impression might make you think he’s reserved, maybe even a bit distant, but in reality, he's just more of a gentle soul than anyone expects. You’re not just another fan to him; you’re someone he genuinely wants to get to know. His warm smile catches you off guard—it’s genuine, not forced. There's no arrogance in his manner, just the kind of humility you don't expect from someone who's performed in front of millions.

Despite being one of the biggest rockstars in the world, James somehow feels approachable and real. His presence is calming, not overwhelming. You quickly realize that what makes him stand out the most isn’t the fame, but his ability to make you feel like the most important person in the room.

First confession of feelings

★One quiet night, as you were driving together, James opened up. “I can’t stop thinking about you,” he confessed, his voice soft. You felt the same, and it was clear that this connection wasn’t just physical—it was emotional too.

What James loves about you?

★ James loves that you see beyond his rockstar persona. He appreciates that you’re not intimidated by his fame, and you never treat him differently because of it. You’re genuine and have this calm presence that balances out his intensity. He loves your sense of humor, especially when you can make him laugh during tough days, and how you always know when he needs space to recharge but also when he needs affection.

What makes him happy?

★Seeing you genuinely happy is what makes him the happiest. Whether it’s watching you perform a small act of kindness for someone else or catching you lost in a moment of joy, it fills him with warmth. And when you’re with him, you make him feel like everything in the world is right. He loves making you laugh, and nothing makes him happier than seeing you smile.

What he loves when you do something for him?

★James isn’t someone who asks for much. But when you surprise him with something thoughtful—like cooking his favorite meal after a tough day, or taking care of him when he’s under the weather—he becomes incredibly soft and appreciative. The way you make the effort to look out for him melts his heart, and he can’t help but adore you more for it. When you show up at his concerts to surprise him, or when you pick out something you know he’ll love, it makes him feel deeply cherished.

Pet names

★James isn’t one for cheesy pet names, but he has a few sweet ones for you. He might call you “love or babe" in a deep, gravelly voice when he’s feeling affectionate. When he’s being playful, he might say something like “hottie” or “princess” But it’s the way he says them—soft, almost like a secret between you two—that makes it special. And when he’s feeling particularly romantic, he’ll call you “my love.”

Would he teach you play the guitar?

★Absolutely! James would love to share his passion for music with you. He’d patiently teach you basic chords at first, encouraging you even when you struggled. He would make it fun, cracking jokes to keep the atmosphere lighthearted, and showing you how to play some of his favorite Metallica riffs. When you finally nail a tricky part, he’d beam with pride, and you’d know he was more than just teaching you an instrument—he was sharing a part of his soul.

Singing to you when you're sad

★James is surprisingly in tune with your emotions. When he notices you’re feeling down, he’ll do everything in his power to cheer you up. One of the things he might do is quietly pick up his guitar and play a soft acoustic version of one of his songs, singing to you in a voice that’s comforting and intimate. Sometimes, he’ll just sit with you, humming along to the melody, or even singing a completely random song to make you laugh. His way of making you feel safe and loved through music is one of his most touching traits.

Shower together

★When you’re both exhausted after a long day or tour, James loves the idea of unwinding together in the shower. It’s both funny and intimate—he’ll make you laugh as he tries to avoid getting soap in his eyes, and you’ll both jokingly fight over who’s taking up more space. But it’s also a moment of closeness. James will run his fingers through your hair, wash your back for you, and even steal a kiss here and there. It’s a simple, yet profoundly intimate moment of connection.

Sleeping together

★James has a surprisingly soft side when it comes to sleeping. He’s not overly clingy, but he loves being close to you. On most nights, he’ll be the little spoon, enjoying the comfort of your warmth. He’ll bury his face in your neck and often fall asleep to the sound of your heartbeat. But there are times when he wants to protect you, and you’ll find him being the big spoon, holding you close as you both drift off to sleep. Either way, he always makes sure you’re comfortable, often tucking you in and making sure you have everything you need before settling in.

How he reacts when you're sad

★When you're upset, James is an emotional rock. He won’t try to fix everything right away, but he’ll listen to you talk about what’s bothering you. He knows when to give you space and when to comfort you with a simple touch. If you’re crying, he’ll pull you into his arms, rub your back gently, and quietly reassure you that everything will be okay. His deep voice murmurs things like, “I’ve got you” or “You don’t have to carry this alone.” He’s the kind of partner who doesn’t just want to help you get better—he wants to help you heal.

When you're sick (and when he's sick)

★When you’re sick, James becomes incredibly protective. He’s the type to make you soup, get you medicine, and stay by your side to make sure you’re comfortable. He may grumble about how much he hates seeing you unwell, but deep down, he’s genuinely concerned. He’ll even skip band rehearsals or cancel plans to stay home and take care of you. If he’s sick, though, he’s way clingier. He’ll want you around all the time, asking for cuddles, extra attention, and comfort. When he’s not feeling his best, he just wants you close, and he’ll complain about everything—from his stuffy nose to his sore throat, but he’ll also be extra sweet, asking for your company more than usual.

Is he protective about you?

★ Absolutely! Though James Hetfield may appear tough or intimidating on stage, in reality, he's deeply protective in every sense when it comes to someone he loves. He’ll always make sure you feel emotionally safe, listening intently when you need to talk, offering comfort when you’re upset, and stepping in quickly if anyone disrespects or hurts you. He’s physically protective too, guiding you through crowded spaces, keeping an eye out for potential threats, and making sure you're never in a situation that feels unsafe. Whether it’s standing up for you or just quietly being your shield in stressful moments, he’ll always have your back.  His protectiveness isn’t just about grand gestures—it’s in the little things, like holding your hand, checking in on you, and making sure you're okay. With James, you always know that you’re safe, cherished, and never alone, no matter what the world throws at you.

In bed

★James is passionate and tender. During intimacy, he’s not just about the physical connection but also the emotional one. He checks in with you during and after, making sure you’re comfortable and feeling good. “How are you feeling?” he’ll ask softly, always making sure you’re enjoying every moment.

[midnight-mourning]

*Taps mic* Heard y'all like Moon around here, you're in luck, this one's for you

massive, MASSIVE thank you to @lunarmoves for beta-reading this chapter!!

She put a lot of time and effort into making my BS readable for y'all and it's greatly appreciated <3 <3 <3

Shay also makes really good dca stuff (also sebastian solace but I know very little about the fish tbh) and you should check her out!

Also, happy 200k+!!! We're only 297k from truly becoming the 500k enemies to lovers slowburn of our dreams lmaoooo

But for real I apologize for such a delay with this one. If you'd like to hear my excuses/reasoning they're below the cut, or you can just go read the chapter whatever suits ya ^-^

Tag list (if you would like added please see this post for more info):

@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8

@luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @amarynthian-chronicles

@robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva

CW: medical stuff & additionally a bit of unreality mentions

Okay going to try and keep this simple bc I've said parts of it before

So as most of you know, I've been sick for 3 months now

I've now been on two rounds of steroids, and currently on my third round of antibiotics, which are basically keep me fucntional, not improving

besides general discomfort and pain, my memory has been pretty shot at times, I will go through the day and barely remember what I did/what I'm doing/what I need to do

as someone who had brain fog caused by covid a few years ago, this was genuinely a scary experience because ultimately, this has been worse

i've felt out of control of my body, having times where I'm mid thought and then instantly lose it

this is not my normal, I usually pride myself on my memory, so losing it has been incredibly devastating and scary

this was not helped by the fact that the quick care I went to (THREE TIMES for this) basically kind of sort of tried to gaslight me into believing nothing could be done and that it's not an infection

so not only has this entire thing has gotten dragged out so much more, which makes me sad tbh, but I've also felt like I've been going crazy bc it felt like no one was believing me when i said I was sick and not getting any better (including friends, family, coworkers etc, though unintentional on their parts to be fair)

I feel like I've lost three months of my life and coming to terms with that has been, yeah

on top of all that, I'm still in school AND doing grad stuff, and while the school side of things has been okay (thank god), grad's had it's moments, won't get into it but have had multiple issues with my advisor that have been at times just really tough to deal with

Confused spirit got pushed to the back burner, because i quite literally at times could not think, and when it comes to this fic, where there's multiple ongoing plot threads, characterizations, lore, and so on to keep track of, it was just, impossible to me to even consider writing for it

having shorter stuff like promptober, the oneshots and such was great to keep me writing, and also still interact with everyone in the community, plus i had a lot of fun with them so that helped too

this is all to say that I do sincerly apologize for the delay, and at the very least I should've clearly communicated about there being a hiatus, when this all started I thought i'd be down for two weeks max, then as that time kept increasing I just kept putting it off and putting it off because i thought i was going to get better, and then I didn't

I do this for fun and for nothing else, fic writing isn't content (it's engaging with fandom) and i have to remind myself of that sometimes but given that I've been around in some capacity on and off I feel I should've said something in some regard

Having said all that, I'm doing okay now! Still sick, but as long as I'm on meds I'm functional, stuff is getting managable with grad, and hopefully have some fun things coming up irl! Point is, the last three months haven't been the best, but they've been alright, due in part to all the support you all have given me, so thank you for that, can't say it enough :)

Okay, I think that just about covers it, thank you for taking the time to read all of this if you did <3

[unreleasedwrites]

heyy im the anon in the prev ask! i want to request a fluff smut with Jake, like a quickie in the morning (with spooning position) to deal with his morning wood problem hehe 😉 thank you in advance 🩷

First Thing In The Morning

content: Spooning with your boyfriend on an empty weekend has its perks. One of which is how you get to be there when he’s pent up first thing in the morning.

contains: Jake Kim x fem!reader [ Lookism ]

cw: MDNI— implied smut, slight somnophilia at first, nicknames (baby), morning wood, some plot w fluff, reader consented!! slight ooc (depends on you haha), kissing, established relationship

— Saturday Night, Nov 30, 2024 • Sunday Evening, Dec 1 2024

You were fast asleep in your boyfriend’s arms, who was hugging you ever so tightly. You could feel his toned arms wrapped around your figure, holding on like a little boy.

You were in a relatively deep sleep as you were tired from the events that took place during the past few days.

To make matters worse, you were so busy that you couldn’t make time to hang out with your boyfriend— until now, that is. You knew that he was busy as well with big deal and so you chose not to bother him throughout the week— not that you could even do so…considering your packed schedule.

But nonetheless, you two were able to make time on this Saturday and that was all that mattered now. You guys met up and spent the day on a little date together and now you were wrapped in his arms. He had his arms wrapped around you from behind and had his face buried in the crook of your neck. It was such a peaceful moment, he could hear your shallow breathing and his steady breathing was also the last thing you heard before you drifted into a deep slumber, with not a single care for anything else in the world now that Jake has you in his arms again— not worrying about big deal or a certain someone just as he usually is.

So why did he wake up with a hard on? He couldn’t remember what he was dreaming about before he suddenly woke up but all that was occupying his mind was you. He was unbearably hard, which caused him this constant, intense pain and was probably why his body woke him up at 9 in the morning when he wanted to sleep in. His dick was stretching his boxers out so much, to the point that it was uncomfortable and tight in all the worst ways.

If you were awake at the moment, you definitely would have been able to feel the tent formed in his boxers, poking at your ass with such intrusion. But you weren’t awake so you were completely unaware of your boyfriend’s member poking you from behind, impatiently aching and desperate for some attention.

He groaned lowly, “shit. right now? seriously..?” He felt so desperate and yet helpless, he didn’t want to wake you but he seriously needed some help from his pretty little girlfriend who doesn’t know it yet, but will definitely be helping him out a whole lot.

He looked at your sleeping figure, so peaceful that it for some reason made his dick twitch. You were wearing his shirt along with some small, tight shorts that hugged your ass in the best way possible. And Jake absolutely loves your ass, to the extent that he takes any chance he gets to fondle with it. So your cute little outfit really wasn’t helping with his growing problem. He sighed to himself as he looked at your sleeping figure, you looked incredibly gorgeous and he kept his eyes locked on you. He then gently caressed your shoulder and stroked your soft skin with such genuine care. But he knew what he had to do, and so he decided he would do it.

He managed to slowly slip his boxers off his dick, leaving it exposed underneath the blanket you two were wrapped in. He slowly pulled your bottoms off and pushed your panties to the side, looking down at his mischievous act. He almost hated himself for doing this while you were asleep and unaware but with his aching member, he really wasn’t focused on that part as much.

He gently lined himself up at your entrance and didn’t have to lubricate you beforehand with how much his dick was leaking precum despite being untouched.

He knew what he was doing was wrong, so he was silently hoping you wouldn’t be mad at him.

He slowly pushed himself in, groaning as he felt the pain lift and the pleasure immediately began running through his body. He started pushing it in— centimeter by centimeter while still caressing your soft skin in hopes that you wouldn’t wake up. But you did, almost immediately too. You slightly groaned as you did so and your walls tightened at the sudden feeling of bring so full— earning a groan from Jake.

“Fuuuck…. don’t do that, baby” He suddenly whispered in your ear, you involuntarily clenched around his girth again from hearing his raspy morning voice right in your ear. His grasp on your shoulder tightened and he started to move in and out, trying to get any friction that he can while you were still trying to stir up what’s happening.

“Jake?? What’r you doing..?” You managed to utter out despite the constant distraction going on under the blanket.

“Couldn’t help m’self, baby.. needed this so bad,” He responded directly in your ear, earning the same goosebumps to form on your skin from the seemingly innocent gesture that somehow riled you up over and over again, “needed you so bad, please.” He added with his voice starting to get more labored and his breathing becoming more strenuous. He continued to push himself into your hole repeatedly, chasing his climax.

You were still a bit dazy but felt comfortable nonetheless with how he was spooning you while helping himself. You’ve been with Jake long enough to know that he is such a sweetheart in bed, all gentle and loving with you. And at this moment, he still was despite being desperate to solve his problem.

You decided to help him out by subtly grinding your ass on his cock which almost pushed him over the edge, but he didn’t want to cum just yet. He wanted to drag this for as long as he can because it just felt that good.

“Mmhh, Jake.. S’deep,” You whispered, earning another groan from him. You knew he was close with how his pace was increasing and his groans were getting louder.

“You feel so good, baby.. Hugging me so tight, so perfect and warm f’me…” He spoke into your ear, pulling yet another moan out of you. He trailed his hand down into your shirt and started fondling with your boobs. He buried his head even further into your neck, only to start kissing and sucking on your skin harshly yet sweetly.

His thrusts started to get sloppy and his dick started to twitch in your pussy, earning pointless babbling from you. He only shushed you in response, whispering sweet nothings in your ear to get you even more aroused—which definitely worked because you could feel yourself getting closer to your climax as well.

He continued to thrust his dick into you, sloppy yet harshly— producing slapping sounds from your guys’ skin hitting each other repeatedly. He moved his hand over to your ass and groped it hard. As he kept thrusting in and out of you, he fondled with your ass and sucked on your soft skin.

It was all too much and the room was filled with your moaning and babbling about your boyfriend, paired with his low groans that progressively got louder as the moment went on.

You were in absolute ecstasy with how much pleasure was given to you in such short time, and Jake was trying his best not to turn you over and fuck you roughly right then and there. He held his composure while pounding into you.

“Shi..t, shit. shit.. I-I’m close,” He spoke out, obviously struggling not to lose his mind right there, “can I cum inside, pre..tty please, please. please,” He immediately added, and boy was he was desperate. You frantically nodded and spoke, “m’cumming—!!”

“Then cum with me, pretty girl,” and you did. Almost immediately after he said that, too. He buried himself as deep as he could in your guys’ position and squeezed your ass tightly.

You were in absolute ecstasy while being filled up, both of your guys’ breathing was intense and all that you could understand at that moment was just how deep he was, you could practically feel his bulge on your stomach and the vibrations as his dick twitched and released in you was pure bliss. Your walls squeezed him ever so tightly as you came, causing him to feel even more euphoric.

“Sorry to wake you, baby..” Jake said once he was able to catch his breath. You replied, “it’s mkay baby, anything for you.”

“Such a sweet girl, aren’t you?” He responded, stroking your hair.

You only giggled in response and he gave you a kiss on the cheek. He continued to stroke your hair ever so gently as both of your heartbeats slowed down, going back to its normal rate.

What a way to start the day, right?

notes: yes i disappeared for so long.. ive been busy and i really wasn’t in the mood to write at all, or even if i was i just didn’t have time.. so im very sorry for all the unanswered requests and pending works..

I’ve also decided to just make my layout simple with this one divider that I made and no more extras, since that’s a lot of unnecessary work for me hehe and its just been bothering me, if i could archive my works w/o deleting them, i would because id like a fresh start because there are works im not proud of but they have a bunch of notes so it doesn’t feel right to just delete 😓 (how to archive help)

anyways, thank you for the request and sorry for it taking so long!! I appreciate all interactions with my works and as per usual, please don’t copy or steal my work in any way <3

[smakonca]

[Previous]-[Next]-[First]

Killer can read between the lines. And knows perfectly when to strike.

As I said earlier, yes, the death of Nightmare's lover was partially his fault.

He was extremely scared, insecure and obsessed with him. He thought that the only way to keep his lover safe was to trick him into joining his side. You know, corrupt the worlds together.

Nightmare did this not out of spite or pure sadistic desire. He did that because he thought his lover would eventually give up hope on him and leave him forever. Despite living for a long time, Nightmare still refuses to believe someone could genuinely care for him and want to stay in his presence.

After all, Nightmare already suffered through the loss of his brother, who loved him despite his differences (and still does, but Nm is just to blind and stubborn to see that). And Nightmare thought that complete destruction of his lover's beliefs would keep him safe. So that they can always be together. But... Didn't think about the consequences. The road to hell is always paved with good intentions. Nightmare's desperate wish for the other to stay with him resulted in his lover's tragic death.

Now. Does it make Nightmare less responsible? No. His decision was entirely selfish as he didn't even ask his lover whether he wanted this all or not. He just assumed that he'd understand him eventually.

But was this decision based only on cruelty and the desire to posses? No. I'm not saying Nm didn't know better. He could have done plenty of things that wouldnt ended their relationship in that way. But he lacks determination and refuses to make great changes in his life. Nightmare didn't change for his lover, but made him change instead. That's why their relationship was doomed.

And yet, their feelings were mutual. Nightmare did love him. But, unfortunately, did that with obsession and fear.

Credits:

Killer belongs to rahafwabas

Nightmare belongs to Jokublog

[leftoverghosts]

i am drowning

there is no sign of land.

Patrick's announcement hit you like a tennis ball to the gut. He had just gotten back from winning the junior US Open, but instead of celebrating together, he was ending things between you. The sharp sting of disappointment cut through your heart as you struggled to make sense of it all. This wasn't the end of your relationship, though.

patrick zweig x reader. patrick x tashi. mentioned tashi x art.

warnings: angst. like angst for the sake of angst. sex at the end. some curse words. not for minors. p in v sex. use of she/her for reader. no use of y/n. patrick sleeps with reader for a bed.

nori says: hiiiiiii, i've been lurking in the challengers tag and now have something to contribute. this is heavily inspired by the break up scene in whiplash. it just feels so patrick coded. also, i love tashi, it's not her fault that the boys were weird about her. send me ideas if you want to! xoxo.

word count: 4,818

2006, September. Per Se Restaurant, Manhattan.

“Also, Patrick has a girlfriend.” Art had told Tashi, and Patrick had responded with “I do not”.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

“I can’t believe your dad let us use his reservations. This is the coolest thing ever! I feel so grown up,” a cheerful voice interrupts Patrick’s thoughts, pulling him back to the present moment. Sitting across from you now, celebrating his triumphant win at the Junior US Open, he can't ignore the guilt and doubts that gnaw at him. Though you were never officially a couple, there were undeniable feelings between you two and Patrick had pursued you relentlessly. He couldn't resist your sweetness, especially since you’ve been friends for so long and despite being just a teenage boy with wandering eyes fixed on tennis skirts, even he understands that you genuinely care about him.

Patrick thinks with all the agony that the thing between his legs can muster, that he’s an asshole, that he shouldn’t of fucked up this situationship only to chase after a girl who made him compete for her attention. Part of him hates himself for betraying your trust and pining after someone else, but the other part of him is drawn to Tashi in a way he can't explain. She gets him, but more importantly, she understands true tennis.

Patrick fidgets with his cup of water, tracing your name on the condensation as if it holds some sort of salvation. But deep down, he knows that no amount of apologies or excuses can change what he has done.

"Listen, I have to be honest with you," Patrick finally speaks up, his voice strained with emotion.

You pause, feeling a sense of unease settle in your stomach as you wait for him to continue.

"I can't keep pretending that this is going to work out. My dreams of becoming a professional tennis player are consuming more and more of my time and focus. And when I am with you, all I can think about is training and winning matches."

As his confession sinks in, your world tilts on its axis. The realization hits you with startling clarity - his passion for tennis surpasses everything else in his life, casting a shadow over what bloomed between you. You always knew that tennis was important to Patrick, but you never fully understood just how significant it was until now. Your mind flashes back to all the times you thought tennis was just a hobby for him, a way to cope with his parents' high expectations. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you realize that this is not how you imagined your relationship with Patrick ending. You try to hold back your emotions, but they overflow despite your best efforts.

"You'll probably start feeling like I'm ignoring you and get mad that tennis is more important to me than our relationship," he continues, regret evident in his eyes. "And if you ask me to ease up on my training, I won't be able to comply because this is my passion. It's what I was born to do."

"Where is this coming from, Pat?" you ask, your voice trembling with hurt. You had never wanted to come between Patrick and his dreams, but now it seems like there was no other option.

“It’s been building up for a while.” In the midst of shattered expectations and unspoken regrets, Patrick's gaze meets yours fleetingly before retreating, unable to withstand the weight of your hurt and disappointment. The truth hangs heavy in the air - priorities laid bare, futures diverging like roads leading into different horizons. "Because sooner or later, we will start resenting each other for not understanding our priorities. It's better to end things now before they turn toxic."

"I can't believe this, I thought we were in this together." Your palms are clammy and your heart races as you try to process everything. You had been nothing but supportive of him, rearranging your schedule whenever he came home from the academy just to spend time with him. But now he’s telling you that it wasn't enough.

"We were, but I wanna be one of the greats.” He sighs.

“And would I stand in your way?”

“Yeah.”

“You know I would, you're sure about that?” You ask, wishing this would just stop. “Yes.” He reaches out to take your hand, but you pull away, unable to bear his touch after what he's done. "I'm sorry," he mutters, his face contorted with guilt and sadness, and the knowledge that he’s a liar. That this conversation is only happening because he’s chasing greatness and Tashi Duncan.

"I'm just a naive girl to you, aren't I? Someone who will never measure up to your grand ambitions.” As the words tumbled out of your mouth, your voice quivers with hurt and disbelief. You couldn't comprehend how someone that you love could make you feel so worthless. “You'll leave me behind as you chase after greatness," you cried out, feeling utterly small and insignificant in his eyes. “You don’t understand me. You never have." His accusation is like sharp, dagger-like punctuation mark, ready to cut off any lingering hopes and pierce through the heart of your relationship.

You look at him, feeling a mix of anger and heartache. "Why did you even bother pursuing me then? If your tennis career was always going to come first?"

"I'm sorry," he finally says, his voice heavy with remorse. "I never should have said those things."

His apology hangs in the air, hollow and insufficient. The bustling restaurant fades into the background as you try to comprehend the sudden change in your reality.

"Sorry doesn't fix this, Patrick," you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Patrick runs a hand through his curly hair, frustration etched across his face. "I know, I know. I'm messing everything up. It's just... there's so much pressure. The tennis, my parents, the academy. And now..."

He trails off, leaving the sentence unfinished. You lean forward, searching his face.

"And now what, Pat? What aren't you telling me?"

Patrick's blue eyes meet yours for a moment before darting away. "There's someone else," he admits quietly.

Your heart shatters into a million pieces, each shard piercing your chest with unbearable pain. The revelation hits you like a serve you never saw coming, leaving you breathless and disoriented. You struggle to find words, your mind reeling from the betrayal.

"Someone else?" you finally manage to choke out, your voice barely audible over the clinking of glasses and murmur of conversation around you. "Who?"

Patrick shifts uncomfortably in his seat, avoiding your gaze. "Her name is Tashi. We met at a party after the tournament. She's... she understands tennis in a way that—"

The name strikes a chord of recognition. Tashi Duncan. You've heard whispers about her – the rising star in the tennis world, known for her fierce determination and unmatched skill on the court. Suddenly, everything clicks into place. The late-night phone calls, the distracted looks, the growing distance between you and Patrick

"That I never could," you finish for him, bitter understanding washing over you. Of course. Of course it would be someone from his world, someone who could match his ambition step for step.

"I think she could make me really happy," Patrick says, his voice pleading for you to just get it.

“You know, I really do hope that you make it. I hope you get to be number one or whatever,” You let out a wet scoff, he could have at least let you finish your meal. “But I’m glad that I’ll never understand you, Patrick.”

With those words, the conversation comes to a halt as you both sit in stunned silence. The waitress brings over your food, but neither of you have an appetite anymore. Patrick pushes his plate away, his stomach churning with guilt and regret. He realizes now that breaking things off like this is a mistake, he’s a coward, he shouldn’t have met up with you in person.

2019, August. Parking lot of a Roadside motel, New Rochelle.

Patrick slams his fist against the side of his beat-up Volkswagen Tiguan in frustration, feeling the sting of anger and disappointment course through him. His phone remains pressed to his ear, waiting for you to pick up, but it rings on with no answer. He begins and deletes a desperate text to you, twice, before finally you're calling back and he answers on the first ring. “Hey! Got a weird favor to ask you. Your new place is near Westchester, right?” His voice trembles with nervousness as he taps his fingers anxiously against the car door.

“A whole year, that’s a new record for you. Run out of money already?”

“Shit,” he swears under his breath, trying to use some charm or magic to convince you. “You know how the tour goes. I’ve been struggling to stay afloat. But uh, how’ve you been?” He forces a smile through the grimace as he thinks about his current financial state - a checking account with only $70 left. It’s a far cry from the greatness he once promised he was leaving you to pursue.

“Go to hell, Patrick.” The line goes dead and he pulls the phone away from his face, staring at it in disbelief as if willing you to call back. He knows you, so he waits anxiously until a notification with your name appears again on the screen, accompanied by a new address.

Same day. Private residence, Bronxville.

Everyone knows that Patrick's parents have stopped providing financial support for him, and even though your own father would be furious if he knew you were aiding this deadbeat, you can't bring yourself to let him go without. It's only the occasional bit of cash for gas or food, but Patrick always finds a way to repay you in ways that you didn’t even know you needed. There is an unspoken agreement between the two of you that hangs heavily in the air.

Despite everything, you can't turn him away completely, even knowing he will never truly change. Tennis is his first, great love and with the Donaldsons in town, you can't help but think Tashi might still be his second. And you, you are nothing more than a temporary lifeline – a benefactor to someone who will never truly appreciate your sacrifices.

His heart races with guilt and desperation as he parks his car and approaches your door. He knows he doesn't deserve your help, but the familiarity of these meetings brings a sense of safety.

You watch from your living room window as Patrick's battered Volkswagen pulls into your driveway. The sight of him emerging from the car, all scruffy charm and desperate energy, sends a familiar pang through your chest. You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for the encounter to come.

As Patrick approaches, you open the door before he can knock. He stands there, looking simultaneously sheepish and hopeful, his eyes searching your face.

"Hey," he says, his voice soft. "Thanks for... you know."

You scoff at his attempt at gratitude, your bitterness cutting through the air like a knife. "Is that supposed to be a thank you? I didn't know you knew how to use manners," you retort, your tone dripping with resentment. It's not like you to be so angry, but Patrick always has a way of bringing out the worst in you.

You step aside, allowing him to enter and close the door after him. Patrick's eyes dart around your new place, taking in the tasteful decor and the obvious signs of your success.

"Nice place," he comments, his voice tinged with a hint of envy.

You shrug, maintaining your emotional distance. "It serves its purpose."

Patrick nods, fidgeting with the hem of his worn t-shirt. The silence stretches between you, thick with unspoken words and shared history.

At thirty-two years old, in the final stages of your cardiology fellowship, your father still treats you like a child who is expected to become an astronaut neurosurgeon, or some other fantastical career straight out of a Barbie movie. Meanwhile, your mother constantly laments about not having any grandchildren to spoil, as if that is the sole purpose of your existence. You often snap back with sarcastic remarks, such as suggesting that your cat could use a new diamond-encrusted bowl, a sharp retort that only serves to deepen the tension between you. The truth is, you yearn for an escape just like Patrick did. If you had any talent for tennis, you would have run away long ago.

Patrick clears his throat, breaking the heavy silence. "I, uh... I really appreciate you helping me out. I know I don't deserve it, after everything."

You let out a humorless laugh, crossing your arms over your chest. "You're right. You don't deserve it. But here we are."

He takes a step closer, his gaze intense and pleading. "I never meant to hurt you. Everything just got so complicated, with tennis and Art and Tashi and—"

"Don't." You hold up a hand, cutting him off. "I don't want to hear about her. Or about tennis. I’m not sixteen drooling over you anymore. I don’t need to pretend that I care. That's your world, Patrick. It always has been."

He looks down, shame and regret etched across his handsome features. "I know. I fucked up. I fuck everything up."

Despite your anger and resentment, a part of you softens at his vulnerability. You've known Patrick for so long, seen him at his best and his worst. And even after all the heartbreak, there's still a connection between you that refuses to die.

"Why do you keep coming back here, Pat?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. "Why me?"

Patrick lifts his gaze to meet yours, and for a moment, you're transported back to that fateful dinner at Per Se, when your world first began to crumble.

"Because you're the only one who really knows me," he admits, his voice raw with emotion. "The only one who sees past the bullshit and the bravado. Even when I don't deserve it."

Your heart clenches at his words, the irony in them isn’t lost on you.

“I still hate you.” You say as you step forward and wrap your arms around him, feeling the solid warmth of his body against yours. Patrick stiffens for a moment before melting into the embrace, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin. "For everything."

You close your eyes, allowing yourself this moment of vulnerability, of connection. Tomorrow, you'll go back to your separate lives - you to your fellowship and the weight of your parents' expectations, Patrick to his endless pursuit of tennis glory and the shadow of Art Donaldson. But tonight, in the quiet of your home, you can pretend that things are different, that the choices you've made haven't led you down such divergent paths.

As the embrace lingers, the air between you shifts, charged with a familiar tension. Patrick pulls back slightly, his eyes searching yours, asking a silent question. Your breath catches in your throat as his gaze drops to your lips, and you know what comes next.

It's a dance you've done before, a temporary escape from the harsh realities of your lives. And as Patrick leans in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, you let yourself surrender to the moment, pushing aside the hurt and resentment that has festered for so long. His hands roam your body with a desperate urgency, as if trying to memorize every curve and contour before this fleeting connection inevitably fades away.

You melt into his touch, your own hands tangling in his curly black hair, pulling him closer. The kiss deepens, a clash of tongues and teeth. Patrick's fingers find the hem of your shirt, slipping beneath the fabric to caress the soft skin of your waist.

A moan escapes your lips as his touch ignites a fire within you, a burning desire that consumes rational thought. You tug at his clothes, needing to feel his skin against yours, to lose yourself in the physicality of the moment.

Patrick responds in kind, his lips trailing hot kisses down your neck as you head towards the bedroom. You stumble together, a tangle of limbs and half-shed clothing, until you fall onto the bed in a heap.

For a moment, you stare at each other, chests heaving, eyes dark with want. His lips trail scorching kisses down your neck, his stubble rasping against your sensitive skin.

"Pat," you gasp, arching into his touch as his hands touch wherever they can reach.

He pauses, hovering above you, his eyes dark with desire and something more, something akin to regret. "Tell me to stop," he whispers, his voice strained. "Tell me you don't want this."

But you can't. Because despite everything, the hurt and the anger and the years of distance, you do want this. You want him, even if it's just for tonight, even if it's a mistake you'll regret come morning.

"Don't stop," you breathe, pulling him back down to you.

Your shirt is discarded, followed by your bra, as Patrick's hands and mouth map the newly exposed skin. He lavishes attention on your breasts, his tongue swirling around each nipple until they peak into hardened buds. You writhe beneath him, your nails digging into his broad shoulders as the pleasure builds.

Patrick's lips trail lower, blazing a path down your stomach, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your jeans. He pauses, glancing up at you through his lashes, silently seeking permission. You lift your hips in response, and he tugs the denim down your legs, taking your panties with them.

Exposed and vulnerable, you fight the urge to cover yourself, to hide from the intensity of his gaze. But Patrick looks at you like you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen, his eyes filled with a reverence that steals your breath.

"You're perfect," he murmurs, his hands skimming up your thighs, spreading them wider. "I never deserved you."

Before you can respond, his mouth is on you, his tongue delving into your folds, lapping at your most sensitive spots. You cry out, your back arching off the bed as he works you with expert precision, stoking the fire that burns within you.

Patrick slips a finger inside you, then two, curling them just so as his tongue continues its relentless assault on your clit. The dual sensations are almost too much to bear, and you feel yourself hurtling towards the edge, your body tensing in anticipation.

"Pat, I'm going to—" you gasp, your words cut off by a moan as he redoubles his efforts, determined to unravel you completely.

And then you're shattering, your orgasm crashing over you in waves of blinding ecstasy. Patrick works you through it, his fingers and tongue gentling as you come down from the high, your body trembling with aftershocks.

He crawls back up your body, pressing tender kisses to your skin as he goes. When he reaches your lips, you taste yourself on his tongue, a heady reminder of the intimacy you've just shared.

"I need you," you whisper against his mouth, your hands fumbling with the button of his jeans. "Please, Patrick."

He helps you undress him, kicking off his jeans and boxers until he's as bare as you are. His erection springs free, hard and heavy against his stomach, and you reach out to wrap your fingers around him, reveling in the velvety softness of his skin.

Patrick groans at your touch, his hips jerking forward involuntarily. "Condom," he grits out, reaching for his discarded basketball shorts.

You wait impatiently as he rolls the latex over his length, your body thrumming with anticipation. When he settles between your thighs again, the blunt head of his cock nudging at your entrance, teasing you with the promise of fullness. Your breath hitches as he slowly pushes forward, stretching you deliciously as he fills you inch by inch. A low moan escapes your lips at the exquisite sensation of him inside you, his thick length pulsing with need.

Patrick stills for a moment, giving you time to adjust, his forehead pressed against yours as he struggles to maintain control. "God, you feel incredible," he rasps, his voice strained with desire. "I've missed this. Missed you."

The confession tugs at your heart, a bittersweet reminder of the connection you once shared, the love that never quite died despite the pain and the years apart. You cling to him, your legs wrapping around his waist, urging him deeper.

He begins to move then, his hips rocking against yours in a steady rhythm that builds in intensity with each thrust. You meet him stroke for stroke, your bodies moving in perfect sync, as if no time has passed at all. The room fills with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, the mingled gasps and moans, the whispered words of encouragement and praise.

Patrick's mouth finds yours again, his kisses deep and demanding, as if he's trying to pour all of his unspoken emotions into the press of his lips. Your fingers tangle in his curly black hair, tugging lightly as the pleasure builds, coiling tighter and tighter within you.

He shifts the angle of his thrusts, hitting that spot deep inside you that makes stars explode behind your eyelids. You cry out, your nails raking down his back, leaving crescent-shaped marks in their wake. Patrick hisses at the sting, but it only seems to spur him on, his movements becoming more frantic, more forceful.

"Touch yourself," he commands, his voice rough with need. "I want to feel you come around me."

Obediently, you slip a hand between your bodies, feeling the heat and sweat radiating off of Patrick's skin. Your fingers glide lazily over his chest and down towards the area of need. However, unsatisfied with your own rhythm, Patrick's fingers boldly enter your mouth, collecting the saliva and making you involuntarily gag. Without hesitating, his fingers make their way back down to their intended destination, gently nudging yours out of the way. His thumb finds your clit, tracing tight circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves. The added stimulation sends electric shocks of pleasure coursing through your body, causing your inner walls to flutter around his throbbing cock.

You arch into his touch, your hands now exploring the hard planes of his chest, tracing the lines of his happy trail.

As Patrick moves within you, his eyes lock with yours, and for a moment, you can almost pretend that this means something more than a temporary escape, a fleeting connection in the midst of your fractured lives. But deep down, you know the truth.

This is all you can ever have with Patrick - stolen moments of passion, brief respites from the weight of your respective burdens. Tomorrow, you'll go back to being strangers, two people whose paths diverged long ago, held together only by the tenuous threads of history and desire.

With each deep thrust, Patrick stokes the fire building within you, pushing you closer to the brink of release. The fingers of his other hand dig into the soft flesh of your hips as he drives into you with increasing urgency, chasing his own climax.

"I'm close," he pants, his breath hot and ragged. "Give me another one. Come with me, baby. I’ve got you."

The endearment slips out unbidden, a echo of the past, of the tender moments you once shared. It's enough to send you tumbling over the edge, your walls clenching around him as euphoria floods your senses. Patrick follows a heartbeat later, a guttural groan tearing from his throat as he spills himself inside you, his hips jerking erratically with the force of his release.

As your breathing slows and reality seeps back in, the weight of your history, of all the unspoken words and unresolved hurt, settles heavily in the room. Patrick rolls off of you, disposing of the condom before collapsing onto the mattress and pulling you to him.

For a long moment, you lie tangled together, chests heaving, hearts racing in sync. Patrick's weight is a comforting presence, his face buried in the crook of your neck as the aftershocks of pleasure gradually subside.

But as the haze of desire dissipates, reality begins to seep in, cold and unforgiving. You feel Patrick tense against you, his body growing rigid as the magnitude of what you've done settles over him. He moves away from you, tugging on his boxers in swift, mechanical movements.

The silence that stretches between you is heavy with unspoken regrets, with the bitter knowledge that this changes nothing. You pull the sheet up to cover your nakedness, suddenly feeling exposed and vulnerable in the harsh light of aftermath.

You turn your head to look at him, taking in the familiar lines of his profile, the curl of his lashes against his cheek. "What are we doing, Pat?" you ask softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

He sighs, running a hand through his sweat-dampened hair. "I don't know," he admits, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. "I just... I needed this. Needed you."

Your heart clenches at his words, a bittersweet mix of longing and resignation. You know you should put a stop to this, to the cycle of hurt and temporary solace that keeps bringing you back together. But the pull between you is too strong, the history too deep.

"I can't keep being your escape, Patrick," you say, your voice trembling slightly. "I can't keep pretending that this means something more than it does."

He turns to face you then, his lake blue eyes searching yours, a flicker of something raw and vulnerable in their depths. "What if it could?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. "What if we could make it mean something more?"

For a moment, you allow yourself to imagine it - a life where you and Patrick find a way to bridge the gap between your worlds, to build something real and lasting. But the dream fades as quickly as it forms, the harsh realities of your lives intruding once more.

"I wish things could be different," Patrick murmurs, his voice barely audible in the stillness of the room. "I wish I could be the man you deserve."

Your eyes search his face for a glimmer of the boy you once knew, the one who stole your heart with his reckless charm and unbridled ambition. "We both made our choices, Pat," you whisper, your fingers reaching over to brush a stray curl from his forehead. "We can't go back.”

Patrick moves to sit on the edge of the bed, his back to you, shoulders hunched with the weight of his thoughts. You watch him, your heart aching with a familiar longing, a desperate wish for things to be different.

“I don’t even know what you really want from me. I doubt you do either. You’re just latching onto me because I’m something steady to grab a hold of.” Your voice is soft, tentative. “Look at me, Pat.”

He flinches at the sound of his name, as if the mere utterance is a painful reminder of the intimacy you've just shared. "Don't," he says, his tone flat, emotionless. "Please, just… don't."

You swallow back the words that threaten to spill out, the confessions and pleas that will only fall on deaf ears. Because you know, deep down, that Patrick will never be yours, not in the way you want him to be. His heart belongs to the court, to the thrill of the game, to the relentless pursuit of greatness that has consumed him for as long as you've known him. And the more it alludes him, the more desperate he is to obtain it.

And you? You're just a temporary port in the storm, a fleeting respite from the chaos of his life. A reminder of the girl he left behind, the love he sacrificed on the altar of his ambition.

Patrick stands abruptly, reaching for his discarded clothes. He dresses quickly, efficiently, his movements sharp and purposeful. You watch him in silence, a lump forming in your throat as the weight of the moment settles over you.

“Will you stop?” You sit up, pulling the blanket around you. “Just sleep here for tonight, Pat. You’re being difficult for no reason.”

Patrick's steps falter as he turns to you, his grip tight on the fabric of his shirt. His face is a mix of anger and frustration, but then it transforms into a vulnerable expression that catches you off guard. He runs a hand through his hair before letting out a heavy sigh. "I know I shouldn't ask after what happened between us...but will you come watch me play tomorrow?"

[honeygr-ls]

The Shadows And The Light - Chapter 2

Ao3 - Honeygrls

The clinic lay in quiet stillness as Sevika sank into unconsciousness, her breaths becoming deep and measured under the soothing embrace of the anaesthetic. You took a moment to gaze at her, drawn in by her stillness. Each scar on her face told a story of battles and resilience, evoking a deep sense of sympathy within you. Her mechanical limb lay beside her, quietly whirring and humming, the gears turning with a gentle rhythm.

With a determined breath, you pushed aside any lingering thoughts and prepared to begin your work. Sevika wasn't your concern besides patching her up; as soon as you finished, she would be out of here and thrust back into the ruthless world that is Zaun.

But something gnawed at the back of your brain, perhaps a hint of curiosity…or even pity. You had seen many hardened souls before, all of them chewed up and spit out onto the streets of the Undercity, yet, something about Sevika was off, as if she carried a weight that felt…different.

Pushing your thoughts aside once again you focused back on the task at hand. The bullet was lodged quite well into her abdominal region, the jagged edges making it difficult to locate it. You delicately moved your tools inside of the wound, your skilled hands locating the bullet within seconds.

“Gotcha,” you murmured, your fingers deftly pulling out the bullet, its weight suddenly lighter as you dropped it onto the metal tray with a soft, metallic clink that echoed in the silence of the room. You took a deep, steadying breath, the sterile scent of antiseptic filling your lungs, and began the process of disinfecting the wound. As you threaded the needle through the delicate layers of her tissue, it glided effortlessly, the rhythm of your stitching providing a brief distraction from the chaotic thoughts swirling in your mind.

You couldn’t shake off the memory of her words just before she lost consciousness. Why do you do this? The question replayed over and over in your head, tugging at the corners of your mind. It wasn't the first time someone had asked, and you were aware it wouldn’t be the last. The truth was that you didn't know why you did this. Yes, you wanted to help the people of the undercity—that part was genuine—but deeper beneath that facade lay a confusing mix of emotions. Perhaps it was a sense of obligation, the unspoken legacy of your mother who had devoted her life to this clinic, pouring every ounce of energy, love, and hope into it. Or maybe it served as a distraction, a way to channel your own feelings and unresolved struggles by focusing on others' problems instead.

As you finished cleaning the area around the freshly stitched wound, a low groan cut through the silence, pulling you back into the current moment.

“You're awake,” you remarked, stepping back just enough to give her some space, but not losing your watchful gaze.

“No shit,” she rasped, her voice thick and hoarse, a sharpness lingering in her tone. She glanced down at the careful work you had done, taking in the sight of her closed wound, and then met your eyes, weary but defiant. “You done prodding around?”

You rolled your eyes at her lack of gratitude, frustration bubbling just beneath the surface of your professional demeanor. The least she could do was acknowledge the effort you had put in, yet you restrained, biting back the retort that threatened to escape your lips.

You wet your lips before speaking, “Well, all I gotta do is put a wrap around it, and you'll be good to go.” You turned around, grabbing a fresh roll of bandages and ushering her to sit up slightly so you could wrap them around her torso.

“The stitches should hold as long as you refrain from any intense movement or lifting. Just take it easy okay? Also, you should change the wrap everyday to keep the area clean.”

She chuckled, swinging her legs off the table with a wince. “Guess I owe you won.”

“You guess?" You huffed incredulously, raising an eyebrow at her.

A weak smirk weaselled its way onto her face. “Don't push it doc.”

You rolled your eyes, stepping aside as she pushed off the table, her movements slow yet deliberate.

“Remember what I said, alright? Take it slow, I don't want those stitches bursting open and you bleeding out once again.” You warned, your voice softening despite yourself.

“Understood,” she replied with a playful glint in her eye. “You wouldn’t happen to have a shirt that fits me, would you? I’d rather not be parading around Zaun with my tits out, y’know?” A mischievous smirk danced on her lips as she locked her gaze onto yours. The unexpected boldness of her words caught you off guard, and a warm flush crept onto your cheeks as you took a moment to fully appreciate her appearance.

“Ah, right—sorry about that,” you stammered, feeling slightly flustered. “Give me just a second; I should have something in the back.” You quickly turned on your heel and hurried down the dimly lit corridor, your heart racing as you navigated through the cluttered space. The faint sounds of Zaun beyond the clinic’s walls only added to your urgency as you made your way to the laundry room.

Once inside, you rifled through the piles of clothes, searching for a shirt that would be large enough to fit her comfortably. The scent of detergent and the faint hum of machinery surrounded you, and after a brief search, you finally spotted a faded, oversized shirt hanging on a hook. Satisfied, you seized it and dashed back to the operating room.

Upon entering, you found Sevika still leaning casually against the table, her confidence radiating as she remained just as you had left her. The sight of her relaxed demeanour stirred a mix of admiration and nervousness within you, but you quickly focused, holding the shirt out with a slightly sheepish smile.

“This should fit?” you asked, your voice laced with a hint of playful uncertainty as you tossed the shirt toward her. She caught it effortlessly, a flicker of approval crossing her face as she slipped it on gently over her head. The fabric draped perfectly over her frame.

“Alright. Just know, if the stitches come undone, you know exactly where to find me,” you added, an awkward lopsided smile making its way onto your face.

She nodded at you, her expression a mix of gratitude and mischief, before turning to leave. As she paused at the door, a moment of stillness hung in the air. She cast a quick glance back at you, her eyes slowly roaming over your body, scrutinizing every detail. When her gaze finally met yours, a confident smirk danced across her lips—a silent challenge or perhaps an invitation.

With a light chuckle, she turned away, opening the door with a soft creak, the cool night air spilling into the room. As she stepped out, the darkness enveloped her, blending her silhouette into the shadows.